#but sure i’m a timewaster
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gregmarriage · 1 year ago
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i wish all doctors and “medical professionals” a very fuck off and die x
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libraryleopard · 4 days ago
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The worst part of A Quiet Place: Day One is that it made me go “damn this Joseph Quinn fellow is a pretty good actor actually” and then I looked at his other acting credits and there’s like Absolutely Nothing Else I’m willing to watch him in
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28dayslater · 6 months ago
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Was about to say fuck it just start timewasting but all we’ve done since minute 13 is waste time so I’m not sure how much it’d achieve
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episodicnostalgia · 9 months ago
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Reading Break - Worms & Spiders
Featured Art: MotaArt: (above) Rick Leonardi & Al Williamson:  Spider-man 2099 #1 Mark Bagley & Art Thibert: Ultimate Spider-man #11 Patrick Olliffe: Amazing Spider-man Family #3
Welp!
It’s been longer since I last posted here than I'd hoped it would be.  Unfortunately, I’ve had to prioritize work for the time being, and it’ll probably be a little while longer before I have the opportunity to post my next episode review [TNG ep. 123 will be next in line, when I do finally get to it].  In lieu of writing, I’ve been trying to be at least bit more mindful with my downtime, avoiding the various social media timewasters, and taking more time to read.
For my "serious" reading, I’ve been slowly picking away at ‘God Emperor of Dune’, which is pretty fucking trippy.  Seriously, If you thought the first book was weird, then I’m here to tell you that whatever "spice" Frank Herbert was using, he upped the dose exponentially for each subsequent entry.  I’ve read a lot of disparaging reviews and comments online about ‘God Emperor’ that led me to believe it might be pompous and dull, but I’ve honestly found it to be thoroughly engaging, though admittedly subject-at-times to some ignorant world views.
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For my "fun" reading, my recent reviews of ‘Spider-man: TAS’ have inspired me to peruse through my old Spidey comics, which have been a real trip down memory lane (and very on-brand for this blog). The two series I’ve been bouncing between are the original ‘Ultimate Spider-man’ from the early 00’s, and ‘Spider-man 2099’ (early 90’s).  I remember when each respective series was first being released, and how cutting edge each of them seemed.  Overall, I’d say they hold up decently well, although clearly products of their time.
‘Spider-man 2099’ is unsurprisingly the more noticeably dated of the two, and a lot of that comes down to the now-unmistakeable 90’s aesthetic, along with the somewhat clunky ‘future slang’, which seems to predominantly consist of substituting profanity with vaguely techno-sounding-words.  If you don’t know what the Shock I’m talking about you can go look it up for yourself. But It’s Rick Leonardi’s artwork where the book really stands out to me, though.  I always thought he was an underappreciated artist, and deserved a proper run on ASM, but 2099 probably gave him a better opportunity to flex his talents.
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I feel like a lot of people forget today (as I suppose they inevitably tend to) that Ultimate Spider-man was once THE hottest Spider book on the market, and while reboots-featuring-a-teenage-peter-parker may be a dime a dozen today, it was a breath of fresh air in the year 2000.  It’s easy to see why too, Bendis and Bagley work great together, and it didn’t hurt that Marvel spared no expense on the physical presentation of the book.  Simply put, each issue looks sharp, from the digitally painted cardstock covers, to the glossy pages; this was a book with high production values, featuring top tier talent. No expense was spared in making sure the artists were featured in the best possible light.
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One thing I’ve can’t help but notice is the differences in attitudes and ideals between the two books. I know a lot of people like to pretend that comics were less political ‘back in the day’ but that’s never been true.  I do think that politics have sometimes been easier to ignore during times of less civil unrest, but clearly the writers have always had opinions and ideals that were being expressed whether they knew it or not.  For instance, Peter David’s work on 2099 seems to lean more politically left, and is notably quite critical of nationalist, corporate, and capitalist interests, depicting a world that feels (in some ways) more relevant now than it was back when the series was being released.
Comparatively, Bendis’ writing seems to play it a bit safer.  He appears largely progressive in his social views, but also less willing to criticize institutions like the military or government beyond anything on a surface level.  I can’t say it’s too surprising, since ‘Ultimate Spider-man’ only began it’s run shortly before the 9/11 attacks, and I can imagine that even if he were inclined to do so, Bendis would have likely received pushback from anything deemed too politically controversial. But some of his writing leads me to suspect he falls towards a more politically centrist stance, resulting in a book that, while being LOADS of fun, has perhaps less to say on certain social issues. Some people might argue it’s for the best, but I kinda like it when writers are willing to get a bit messy, as I think it makes for more interesting discourse.  But then again, maybe I’ll find myself eating these words as I continue my read through.
I think that’s enough musing from me.  The fact remains that each of the artists I’ve discussed in this post are far more accomplished than I will likely ever be.   At any rate these criticisms are really more just meandering observations, about which I could easily change my mind later on.  Hopefully I’ll have more time to focus on my proper episode reviews in the coming months.
But if you’ve made it this far, thanks for hanging out.
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snowyjinsoul-sales · 1 year ago
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hi, welcome to my kpop sale-trade-grouporder blog!
‼️ this is a work in progress‼️
my name is Lily, or @snowyjinsoul here on tumblr, as well as instagram and twitter! i’m a member of the kpop buy-sell-trade community on instagram, with over a year of experience in hosting photocard and album group orders mainly for loona (+ loossemble, odd eye circle, artms and chuu).
keep reading under the cut for general info, sales/trades/GO info, post directory, and more!
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ABOUT ME
🔹 Lily (she/her), 23 years old, Graphic Designer, based in Germany
🔹 ult: LOONA, ARTMS, LOOSSEMBLE, CHUU, Lee Chaeyeon
🔹 stan: STAYC, tripleS, FiftyFifty, LeSserafim, IVE, Minseo, Kwon Eunbi, Yena, Idle
🔹 dni if you’re racist, sexist, homophobic, ableist, younger than 14, …
🔹 if you’re a minor please make sure you have permission from your guardians to be active in the bst community, and if there’s anything i need to be aware of when packing your items please let me know!
🔹 I work Monday to Friday 8-6 so I might not respond immediately, but I will always get back to you asap 💖 Feel free to bump messages if i haven’t answered in longer than a day!
IMPORTANT LINKS
tba
GENERAL INFO
🔹 Items will be packed in order of: Penny sleeve > Toploader > Folded card > Envelope (+ everything secured with washi tape & sticky tape)
🔹 I always put a return address on my letters
🔹 For larger items I will use bubble wrap and/or cardboard
🔹 I will send address checks via DM
🔹 I only offer shipping through my local postal services Deutsche Post and DHL
🔹 Items will usually be dropped off on the weekend, I drop them off at a public mailbox or packstation
🔹 I don’t write usernames on envelopes, instead I will put a sticker or symbol on the envelope, & I will send a drop-off video via DM
⚠️ Once the letter is dropped off I’m no longer responsible for any damages or lost mail! ⚠️
GROUP ORDERS
I’m an established GOM with one year of experience and I always strive to improve my workflow and services, so if there‘s any questions, critiques or concerns please do let me know! :>
Please do not join my GOs if you cannot foresee yourself being able to cover all required payments.
GO Terms and Conditions
No backouts once I have requested payment unless you have found someone to replace you.
⚠️ If you go AWOL (away without leave) on me you will be blocked and blacklisted from my account. Timewaster and/or DWAYOR posts may also be made if I see it as necessary.
⚠️ If you do not pay initials by the deadline mentioned in the respective groupchat you will be removed from the GO. Repeat offenders will be blocked and blacklisted from my account. I only send payment reminders if there’s been no activity in the groupchat for several days before, it is your own responsibility to pay on time.
⚠️ I am happy to cater for extensions and payment plans but you must tell me at least 24 hours before the payment deadline. Extensions after this point will only be given for extreme circumstances and will only be given at my discretion.
⚠️ No refunds once I have received the first payment.
No strict deadline for doms payments if I am collecting them separately as I will hold items until I receive payment. However if I receive no response after 2 weeks I reserve the right to put your items back up for sale/trade.
GOs General Info
🔹 There’s usually 2 to 4 payments and I will provide price breakdowns on the respective GO Notion page / GO spreadsheets
🔹 If there’s a tracking link or number I check up on it’s progress regularly and send updates if there’s anything of importance
🔹 I will collect everyone’s addresses and info through google forms
🔹 When packing I will confirm your claims and address via DM
⚠️ For cheap photocard GOs I usually do not check the condition of the pcs extremely thoroughly. If there‘s any major scratches, bends, etc. I will of course notice and disclose it, but I will not check them under light for minor scratches, indents, or misprints
🔹 Once I’m able to send out I will post a video in my instagram story of me dropping the letters off at a public mailbox (with the addresses covered up, of course)
🔹 Packing info and costs will be calculated depending on the type of item and its size. I aim to make it inexpensive, and I am transparent about the costs and how I pack it.
SALES
🔹 i am operating all sales through a sales enquiry form, the link to the sales form is available via the “important links” section of this post or in every sales post
🔹 WW for photocards and other small items, European Union only for albums and other bigger items
🔹Prices listed in Euros € unless stated otherwise.
🔹 Payment only per Paypal F&F!
🔹 If you pay per G&S I will refund you immediately and block & blacklist you from my accounts
🔹 You have 24 hours to provide proof of payment or the item will be released for sale again! i can however hold items for up to 72 hours, just ask ^^
🔹 Addresses shared via my sales form will be deleted once you either receive your items, or if a sale does not go through / the items you were interested in were already sold
TRADES
🔹 Trading only within EU (European Union)
🔹 Not trading with non-kpop-related accounts and/or accounts with less than 10 proofs (unless i know you from instagram or we’ve traded before)
🔹 When dming me for a trade, please include exactly which of my items you are interested in and what you are offering to trade! Any dms that only say “I’m interested in trading” without specifications will be ignored
⚠️ You and I both have the right to back out of a sale/trade if either party feels uncomfortable, as long as addresses haven’t been shared or money has been exchanged. ⚠️
SHIPPING INFO
This is a list of (most) countries that I sell / ship to. Additionally I will sell to any other countries that can send money via PayPal F&F (friends and family). Under no circumstances ever will I accept payments via PayPal G&S (goods and services). Please make sure you can pay via PayPal F&F before contacting me.
🔹 Albania, Andorra, Austria, Australia, Belgium, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Bulgaria, Canada, Croatia, Cyprus, Czech Republic, Denmark, Estonia, Finland, France, Germany, Greece, Hungary, Iceland, Ireland, Italy, Latvia, Liechtenstein, Lithuania, Luxembuorg, Malta, Netherlands, Norway, Philippines, Poland, Portugal, Romania, Slovakia, Slovenia, Spain, South Africa, Sweden, Switzerland, United Kingdom, United States
SHIPPING PRICES
tba
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timewastertalks · 2 years ago
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This is my first post, and so I’ll give an introduction.
My name is not important, but you can call me Timewaster. Honestly, I’m not in a great place in life right now. I wanted a new place to share my thoughts and feelings with others. Like, reblog, whatever you want is cool, I’m not really doing this for others as much as for myself.
I’m not quite sure what kind of stuff I am going to talk about. Maybe I’ll do poetry, maybe I will post art, maybe I’ll just rant about something. If you choose to stay with me on my journey, I appreciate it! Otherwise, I hope I can at least brighten your day somehow.
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samlamwambam · 1 year ago
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I agree with your point that we barely get to learn anything about the characters lives after two episodes because I hadn’t realized that Nick and Lauren were siblings until you pointed that out. I think this speaks to the fact that when a narrative decides to focus on something (in this case the impact of their race), we unfortunately lose other aspects of the narrative. This leaves me wondering, how can we make sure to acknowledge the challenges of POC characters time traveling to a Western region without losing part of the story? After all, each episode can is limited to a certain number of minutes, so it becomes hard to cover everything in that span of time while ensuring that the story gets told. Also, speaking as a person of color, it can sometimes get tiring when everything I watch where I’m represented becomes about our race because other aspects of the story get washed out. I suppose in the time-travel genre this is possible to avoid, but Timewasters does a good job of masking the heaviness of the situation with comedy.
@theuncannyprofessoro
#oxyspeculativetv
Viewing Response 3
In, “Dominant Narratives and Historical Perspective in Time Travel Stories: A Case Study of Doctor Who,” Jolie C. Matthews delves into time travel, specifically in the realm of historical settings and the common stereotypes and recurring themes viewers see when characters travel to the past. These include portrayals of all non white characters and their corresponding lack of dimension, despite being seen as main characters in particular television shows. What I found particularly interesting about Timewasters is the comedic timing and the ways in which the show points out racism without necessarily addressing it head on. The main problem of the second episode is that Nick has been brainwashed into thinking that he is perfect and should stay with Dr. Braithwaite. However, this institution is clearly rooted in racist and stereotypical thinking, using things like phrenology to determine someone's worth. Despite this, the show uses comedy to mock the time period, allowing the viewer to laugh along. I feel that this message is both effective and ineffective, where it guides the viewer to take the side of the group from the present, but lacks in character dimension, as Matthews discusses in her piece. Specifically, after two episodes I felt as though I had barely learned about the characters that the show follows. I did not realize that Lauren and Nick were siblings until the end of the second episode. In terms of the mise-en-scene, I noticed that during the elevator scene in particular, the rapid movement of the camera as the ceiling begins to break down, in addition to the dramatic sounds enhances the unsettled, scary mood of the scene.    
@theuncannyprofessoro
#oxyspeculativetv
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fujiihime · 2 years ago
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Joseph Quinn's Other Characters Fics (Series/One-Shots) - I
I made a list of currently reading and recommended fics for Joseph Quinn's other characters here on Tumblr. All were beautifully written by amazing writers. These writers are incredible and full of brilliant ideas, so please visit their blogs and check all of their works. Happy reading! Don’t forget to comment and reblog their works. You may also reblog this list to share with everyone/blog mutuals. Thank you! (For 18+, MDNI)
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Prince Paul (Catherine the Great)
Pick Your Poison | 2 | 3 by @punk-in-docs
Keep Watch Over The Door Of My Lips 
And The Stars Sighed In Unison
Lay No Claim | 2 by @the-suburban-blues
It Has Always Been You by @dingusfreakhxrrington
With Me Now by @the-suburban-blues
Our Duty & Birth Of 1st Child by @emmywrites-blog
Deserve Love Series | 2 | 3 | 4 | ED by @boohoo-clo
Thank You by @m7nson
Out Of The Dark by @creme-bruhlee
My Darling by @helpwhatsthis
Childish by @badmirvcle​ 
Eye for An Eye by @rocknrollbabe14​
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Ralph (TimeWasters)
At Last | 2 | 3 | 4 | ED by @luv4fandoms
It's My Party And I'll Cry If I Want To by @brighteyedbushybrowed
Please & Darling by @no-mercy-bby
Wizard by @creme-bruhlee
To Be Loved by @stevies-corner
A Special Present For A Special Boy by @littlelioncub43
Who's A Good Boy? | 2 @mypoisonedvine​
Baby Boy by @historygeekfics
Show Me
Untitled by @thefreak-thebanished
A Life Well Loved by @eddiemunsonthebanished 
Words Of Advice | 2 by @ladyfogg
My Sweet Boy by @forays-into-fiction​ 
A Rivalry For The Ages by @ladybug0095​ 
The Dance by @stinkysam​ 
Tell the World by @x-its-funnier-in-enochian-x​
Busy Streets And Busy Lives @thefreak-thebanished​
Kinktober: Day13 - Face Sitting by @xcatnapsx​
My Way Of Life by @ @sadboyeddie​
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Tom Grant (Make Up)
You Got Me by @mypoisonedvine
WindSwept by @ladyfogg
Lemons Lollipops and Salt | 2(WIP) by @cherrielip
Adore You by @inklore
5 Minutes In Heaven
A Couple Hours by @luvsouya
Little Thief by @dingusfreakhxrrington
Thunder by @loves0phelia
Maybe It's A Good Thing? | 2 by @dingusfreakhxrrington
Prompts | 2 | 3 by @ladylannisterxo
Welcome Home by @mypoisonedvine
Untitled by @ginger-mews
New Girl | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 by @xcatnapsx
I'm Home by @bluesfortheredj
Cheer Up by @x-its-funnier-in-enochian-x
Untitled | Prompt by @joemazzmatazz
I'm Not Her by @munsonxmayhem
Smashed by @joekeeryswife​ 
Rebound | 2 | 3 by @munsonxmayhem​ 
Another Sad Love Song by @rocknrollbabe14​  
Kisses from Cupid by @hawkinsbanishedhero​
His Past And His Future by @munsonxmayhem​ 
New Angel by @fxckadoodledoomunson​ 
Mr. And Mrs. Grant by @munsonxmayhem​
Tom Grant Series by @wheels-of-despair​ ​
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Leonard Bast (Howards End)
A Friend Of A Friend by @the-suburban-blues
All I'd Ever Need @the-suburban-blues
As Stubborn As A Mule by @writing-fanics
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Arthur Havisham (Dickensian)
The Arrangement | 2 | 3 (x M!Reader) by @ladyfogg
One Of Those Nights (x M!Reader) by @alex-drinks-blood
Untitled (xPlatonicF!Reader) by @dingusfreakhxrrington
Letters (x M!Reader) by @axailslink
Million Dollar Man (x F!Reader) by @lvlycheri
Not All Who Wander Are Lost (x M!Reader) by @lvlycheri
It's Okay (xPlatonicF!Reader) by @x-its-funnier-in-enochian-x
Please Don't Go (x M!Reader)
Untitled (x M!Reader) by @alex-drinks-blood​ 
Maybe Someday (x M!Reader) by @casettewrecked​ 
Untitled (x M!Reader) by @razzledazzlestuff​ 
Can The Past Save The Future (x M!Reader) by @stardancerluv​
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Koner (Game of Thrones)
Only You | 2 | 3 by @creme-bruhlee
Night Watch by @historygeekfics
A Not-So-Knight and His Spellcaster | 2(WIP) by @brighteyedbushybrowed
Winter Nights | 2 by @ercklln
A Winter's Tale by @lyricswrittenbythesecretdreamer 
Dark Koner (Untitled) by @mypoisonedvine​
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Note: I hope a lot more writers will write stories for these characters and I'm sure we're all excited to read more stories about it.
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ladyfogg · 2 years ago
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Words of Advice - Part 1
Words of Advice – Part 1
Fic Summary: Months after being so spectacularly rejected by Lauren, Ralph finds his interests being drawn to the pretty new maid. Having no idea how to approach you, and not wanting to repeat mistakes of the past, he seeks advice from everyone and anyone who’ll provide it, which is probably not the wisest decision. (Part 2) Fics Masterpost. 
Fic Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI)
Pairing: Virgin!Ralph (Timewasters)/Female Reader
Warnings: Canon Divergent, It’s Not Unrequited Love They’re Just Idiots, Mutual Pining, Attempts at Flirting, Slow Build, Eventual Smut, First Time, Unprotected Sex
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A/N: Hey there, lovelies! Originally this was going to be a oneshot, but it became a lot longer than I anticipated (that’s what she said) so it’s been split into two parts. I don’t have an ETA on part 2 but I hope you enjoy part 1!
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Ralph decides that he won’t run off and join the French Foreign Legion.
While Lauren’s harsh words and rejection broke his heart, he begrudgingly admits to himself that he may have rushed things a bit. Proposing marriage after knowing her for a few days was on the fast side. Perhaps he should have waited for a more respectable amount of time, like a month.
Regardless, he has no interest in chasing a woman who clearly wants nothing to do with him. Unfortunately, he hasn’t met one who does
It’s a bleak and confidence busting realization. Ralph resigns himself to bachelorhood and takes solace in the notion that he at least has his many interests and hobbies to occupy his time. Although, there are only so many times he can play his ukulele, read, or any of the other skills he’s picked up over the years.
Currently, he is in the dining room, just about to sit down for lunch, when the doorbell rings. Normally, one of the servants gets it but at least two quit the week before and replacements have yet to be hired. It seems no one else in the house deems it necessary to stop what they’re doing because after a few short minutes, the doorbell rings again.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get it,” Ralph says to no one in particular, throwing his napkin down in annoyance.
He walks through the dining room and into the front hall. If he’d realized who was on the other side of the door, he could have done something to prepare. He’s not sure what could have prepared him for opening the door and finding himself face to face with the most beautiful creature he’s ever seen.
“Hello, sir,” you say, giving him a warm smile. “I’m here about the servant’s position.”
Ralph is frozen, brown eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. It’s like every word or thought is plucked out of his head, leaving nothing but the sound of his heart pounding.
When he doesn’t say anything, you shift nervously. “Sir, did you hear me?”
“Ralph.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Ralph. My name. It’s my name. I mean…” Ralph clears his throat, remembering who he is and that he shouldn’t stand there floundering like a fish. “Please, come in.”
You smile and Ralph swears his heart stops beating. “Thank you.”
You cross the threshold and Ralph barely moves out of the way in time. The scent of flowers wafts off you and Ralph closes his eyes, savoring it before he catches himself and closes the door.
“And your name is?” he asks, turning to face you, his back pressed against the door in a subconscious attempt to keep you from leaving. Though, judging by the suitcase in your hands, that doesn’t seem to be happening any time soon.
You tell him your name and extend your hand towards him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Ralph takes it, desperately wishing you weren’t wearing gloves so he could feel your skin on his. “I’m delighted to meet you as well.”
From the upper level, he hears his twin’s boisterous voice say your name. Victoria glides down the stairs, immediately grabbing your attention away from Ralph.
“It’s so good to see you!” she says. “I appreciate you filling in on such short notice. We’ve had a bit of a turnaround lately and are in desperate need of help.” She turns to face her brother as if she’s noticing him for the first time. “Ah, Ralph! I see you’ve met our new maid.”
“Yes, we were just getting acquainted,” Ralph says, eyes never leaving you.
“He was being most hospitable,” you say with a smile Ralph’s way that has him clutching the doorknob for support.
Victoria doesn’t miss it. She narrows her eyes suspiciously but it only lasts a second because when you turn to her, she’s smiling once more. “Let me give you the tour and explain your duties,” she says, motioning for you to walk ahead of her.
As if being pulled by an invisible string, Ralph makes a move to follow. Victoria stops him with a hand in his chest. “Don’t you dare, brother,” she says in a low voice. “I’ve already had to put an embargo on all the hired help to keep Jason from going through them. I won’t have you scaring this one away.”
“But…”
“No! Stay!” she says, flicking his nose.
Plastering that big smile on her face once more, she turns to lead you down the hall. Ralph leans on the nearest doorframe for support, watching your swaying hips as you go. He swears it’s giving him heart palpitations and he may need to have a lie down until his head stops spinning.
“Wow, she’s…” He can’t think of another word and whispers the last to himself. “Wizard.”
“Well, you move on fast, don’t you?”
Ralph whips his head to the side to see Lauren standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking highly amused at the unfolding events. How long has she been standing there??
“I mean no disrespect,” he immediately says. “I am well-aware your…feelings towards me. Or rather, lack thereof. My infatuation faded some time ago.”
“Glad to hear it,” she says. Then she shoves her hands in her pockets and sighs. “I am sorry for that, by the way. Didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
“Water under the bridge,” he says, turning his attention back to the hall you vacated seconds ago. He sighs dreamily and leans against the doorframe again. “Under the most beautiful bridge I’ve ever seen.”
“Oh, bloody hell. Alright, look mate. You didn’t ask for my opinion but I’m giving it anyway,” Lauren says. “Word of advice: if you’re going to go after that one, don’t be yourself.”
With that, she gives him a firm slap on the back that makes him stumble a bit and, with a smile that seems like she’s given him the most important piece of advice in the world, she heads out the door whistling to herself.
Don’t be himself? Then who the bloody hell is he supposed to be?! Ralph turns to ask but she’s already gone.
Well…bollocks.
Between that and his sister scolding him, he’s thoroughly confused. Alright, he can figure this out. He can work around his sister’s rule. He may not be able to go after you, but what if you came to him? He could hardly be to blame if you became infatuated with him. It would be rude not to reciprocate and if Ralph is anything, it’s a respectable gentleman.
Besides, it falls in line with Lauren’s “don’t be yourself” suggestion. And a beautiful woman such as yourself falling for him would absolutely be the opposite of his usual go to.
Not that he knows how to even begin to make that happen. Lauren’s gone so he can’t ask her for clarification. But maybe her brother will have better insights!
Ralph scours the house looking for Nick, almost running into Victoria and you as she gives the tour. He ducks from room to room, hoping you don’t see him, but stealing fleeting glances when he can. He finds Nick in the quarters he shares with his bandmates. He’s standing at a chalkboard, scribbling what looks like gibberish.
Ralph knocks on the open door. “Knock, knock! Nick, do you have a minute?”
“Lauren’s not here,” Nick says over his shoulder. “Sorry, mate.”
“Oh, I know. I’m not looking for her, I’m looking for you. I was hoping you’d give me some advice.”
That seems to get his attention and his eyes light up when he turns to face Ralph. “You want my advice? About what?”
“Women…well, a woman specifically.”
Nick sighs and puts down the chalk, placing his chalky hand on Ralph’s shoulder. “Ralph, you really should move on from my sister. I appreciate your dedication but she’s made it clear she’s not interested.”
Ralph huffs, knocking his hand away. “I’m not talking about her. I’ve met someone else.”
Nick looks pleasantly surprised. “Oh, that’s fantastic! Well, what can I do for you, then?”
“How do I get her to notice me?” he asks, discretely wiping the chalk dust from his suit jacket as Nick turns away to regard his work. “Well, I guess more than just notice me. How do I get her to fall madly in love with me?”
“Oh, that’s easy,” Nick says, waving his hand. “Show her how smart you are. Girls love a guy with a brain, you know what I mean? Smart is sexy.”
Huh. Ralph hasn’t tried that angle before. “Smart is sexy,” he repeats. “I can work with that. I’m not one to boast but our library has over a hundred books and I’ve read almost all of them.”
“Right, yeah, books. Reading,” Nick mutters, going back to his work.
Sensing he’s lost his attention, Ralph leaves Nick to whatever the bloody hell he’s doing. Smart is sexy. Smart is sexy. Is this a common phrase that everyone knows about except him? Typical. He’s always the last in the loop. Ralph’s mind is racing, trying to formulate what his next move should be.
Two days later, he’s ready to act. He chooses a time he knows you’re going to be cleaning the downstairs and makes himself comfortable in the library. He sits in his favorite wing-backed chair in front of the fireplace and picks the biggest book he can find.
He then spends the next several minutes trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. How should he sit? Should he lean back and be comfortable? Or possibly sit up straight and seem intrigued? He does have excellent posture, that might be the way to go. When he hears footsteps coming, he scrambles to grab the book and appear as though he’s deeply engrossed. Unable to decide between comfortable and upright, he settles on a strange combination of the two which is decidedly uncomfortable.
The door opens and he “casually” glances up. His heart races when he sees you standing in the doorway.
“Oh, hello, sir,” you say with that same smile you gave him when you first met. In your hands you nervously twist a feather duster. “I hope you don’t mind but Miss Victoria asked me to dust in here.”
“Of course, do what you need,” Ralph says, attempting to keep his demeanor calm and collected, eyes shifting back to the page in front of him.
You go about your business and Ralph watches, staring over the top of the large book that he’s hiding behind. Or rather, that he’s pretending to read.
You’re in uniform now and he swears as many servants as he’s seen over the years, none of them have ever looked the way you do in those clothes. They hug every inch of your frame and he finds himself having all manner of impure thoughts. Which he promptly scolds himself for. You’re a lady and should not be thought about in such a way. Anytime you turn in his direction, he quickly shifts his gaze to the book in his hands, trying to appear pensive and deep in thought.
As minutes drag by, Ralph begins to fidget. He’s waiting for you to notice or say something but it’s not happening. Occasionally, he clears his throat but you’re focused on your work. It’s not until he angles himself in your direction as you turn to dust the mantle that you finally speak.
“Quite a hefty book you’re reading, sir,” you say.
Thrilled to have a chance to speak, Ralph lowers the book so fast it slaps his lap painfully. He tries not to flinch. “Oh, this old thing? I must have read it a dozen times already,” he boasts, throwing you what he hopes is a charming smile. “In fact, I’ve read almost every book in this library.”
“Wow, impressive.”
Ralph’s heart flutters. It’s working, he thinks excitedly. “Do you enjoy reading?” he asks.
You’ve stopped your work and are giving him your full attention, which is more than he could have ever asked for. He doesn’t remember the last time anyone’s done so. Normally, people half-listen or brush him off.
“On occasion, when I have the time,” you say. “What’s it about?”
Ralph is so busy staring at your beautiful face he forgets the conversation for a second. “What’s what about?”
You smile. “The book.”
“Oh, right, yes, the book.” Ralph scrambles, having not thought this far ahead and trying not to look down at the cover to give himself away. “You know, the world, the philosophy of man, life. Very deep…smart things.”
Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks, he’s messing this up.
But instead of looking bored or uninterested, you just smile once more and say, “Sounds delightful. Well, I’m done my work in here. If you won’t be needing anything, I’ll excuse myself to the kitchens to begin dinner preparation.”
Ralph wants to beg you to stay, to keep talking and learning about you. But he tries to play it cool and sits back in his chair, lifting his book once more. “I am all set, thank you,” he says.
“Great.” You head towards the door and Ralph’s eyes track your movements like a hawk. When you turn around again, he doesn’t have a chance to avert his gaze. “By the way, sir. That book is upside down.”
With a giggle and a flourish of your skirt, you’re gone and Ralph stares down in horror, realizing that indeed, his book is upside down. With a heavy sigh, he tosses it aside and buries his face in his hands.
So much for looking smart.
Needless to say, he avoids you for days after such a fiasco. At least until the crippling embarrassment goes away, then he’s back at it. Ralph is undeterred. If anything, his desire to converse and get you to notice him is even stronger now that he wishes for redemption.
Since Nick was of no help, he decides there’s one person who certainly knows much about the opposite sex. He finds Jason lounging in the salon, casually admiring that blasted advertisement he posted for. “Hey, bruv, what’s up?” he asks, barely looking at Ralph. “Where you been hiding?”
“I haven’t been hiding, I’ve been…out of sight,” Ralph says.
“Whatever, same diff.”
Ralph decides to get this over with and cuts right to the chase. “Jason, what advice would you give to someone who is trying to get a woman to notice him?”
Jason chuckles. “Still pining over Lauren? Seriously, bruv, there are other fish in the sea.”
“No! Not Lauren…someone else.”
Jason perks up. “Who? What’s her name? I saw her first.”
“You most certainly did not and it doesn’t matter who,” Ralph says. “Just answer my question. How do I get her to notice me?”
Jason sits up and tosses the ad aside. “Easy. You gotta show her the goods.”
Ralph frowns. “I don’t know what that means.”
“You know…” Jason stands and immediately starts to open his shirt. Ralph protests but it falls on deaf ears. “Show her the goods. Let her see what she’s missing!”
He does what Ralph assumes is intended to be a sexy pose. Ralph raises his hands to block as much of Jason’s exposed chest for his view as he can.
“So your advice is to flash her my half-naked body? That doesn’t sound like an appropriate idea.”
“Don’t just do it without warning,” Jason says, despite the fact that he definitely just did. “Work it into the conversation.” He looks at himself and then back to Ralph. “Of course, your body isn’t like mine, so maybe try to bulk up first or, you know, step into the sunlight. But I’m telling you, bruv, flashing some skin is a guaranteed way to get her eyes on you.”
“Yeah, alright, I don’t know why I thought asking for your advice was a good idea,” Ralph says, still averting his eyes as Jason has not even attempted to cover up. “I’ll take your words into consideration.”
He hurries out of there as fast as possible, rolling his eyes when Jason calls after him, “Wait, seriously, though, who is it? I’m telling you, I saw her first!”
Later that night, in his room, Ralph is getting changed into his sleep clothes when he pauses to contemplate Jason’s advice. He’s never really thought about his physical appearance.
He’s aware that he’s quite dashing and impeccably dressed. But he’s never thought about the state of his body. After all, he hasn’t shown it to anyone so it’s never come up. The idea of showing it to you, however, makes his face flush and he has to take a few deep breaths to calm himself.
Once he does, he turns to his full-length mirror and eyes his reflection. He’s in his underclothes and thinks for a moment before removing his under shirt. True, he doesn’t have the muscle definition that Jason has but he thinks he looks relatively well-defined.
Ralph stands up straight and tries to puff out his chest a bit.
Hmm. Maybe this can work.
Perhaps Jason isn’t a complete nutter. Ralph studies himself a bit more, wheels turning as he tries to figure out how to go about following this latest piece of advice. He practices in the mirror, trying to perfect the nonchalance that failed him in the library.
“Oh, hello there,” he says. “Pardon my state of undress…absolutely not. That’s not going to work. She’d probably run screaming, thinking I’m propositioning her. Then she’ll quit and Victoria will have my head.”
He puts his trousers back on and grabs his undershirt. Now he is more respectfully covered, though it doesn’t show skin, which was the point according to Jason.
Ralph removes the undershirt and grabs a freshly pressed white button-up. He slips it on and keeps it open. Without the undershirt, this state of undress is not too forward and still flattering. The longer he looks at himself, the more he thinks this might work. He hopes it’ll be enough.
On the morning of the next laundry day, he stays in his room and waits. Any other day, he’d promptly dress and leave his clothes for the maids to gather. Instead, he paces back and forth, listening for the telltale sound of footsteps, noting how cold he is without his undershirt. The urge to dress properly is strong but he fights it.
When he hears someone approaching, he hurries to his closet. Suddenly, fear and uncertainty seize him and he realizes how ridiculous this is. His hands attempt to quickly button up but then there’s a knock and he’s calling, “Come in!” before his brain catches up.
He’s able to turn his back the moment before you enter.
“Oh, excuse me, sir,” you say. “I just came for the laundry but I can return—”
“No, no, it’s alright. I’m decent.”
Sort of, he thinks.
Ralph hears the door open and close and the sound of you crossing to the laundry bin. He’s so nervous he can’t get his fingers to work properly. There’s a beat of silence before…
“Do you need some help?” Ralph turns to find you watching him with a smile. “I think you’ve missed a few buttons.”
Ralph looks down and swears to himself. Yes, yes he’s missed buttons. Several actually. Can nothing go right in front of you?? “Oh, bully me.”
Laughing, you cross the room towards him and before he knows what’s happening, you’re reaching out to undo the buttons he so thoroughly messed up. It takes him a moment to register what’s happening and when he takes in how close you are and that your hands are on his shirt, he feels the heat rise to his face.
Equal parts embarrassed and interested, Ralph suddenly doesn’t know what to do with himself. Should he look away? Look at you? Look at his shirt? He opts for the ceiling until you straighten his crisp white shirt and re-button it properly.
“Which bowtie are you going to wear today?” you ask.
Ralph looks down only to find your eyes staring into his. “Pardon?”
“I asked which bowtie you’re going to wear today. I notice you wear one every day. I think I favor the blue…if that’s not too bold to say, sir.”
Ralph shakes his head vigorously. “No, not bold at all. I like the blue one as well. And…you don’t need to call me ‘sir’. Ralph is just fine.”
He can’t get over your smile. It makes his heart feel like it's bursting from his chest. Without prompting, you pick up the blue bowtie from his dresser where he has all of them displayed in neat rows. You carefully lift his collar, tie the bowtie for him, and then fix his collar once more.
“There, all set,” you say.
Ralph struggles to find his voice. “Th-Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome…Ralph.”
With that, you return to the laundry bin, gather the clothes, and leave. Ralph stands there for some time, not quite sure what to make of the interaction. Did Jason’s advice actually work? Or did you take pity on Ralph after seeing him struggle? God, how pathetic he must have looked, especially after the whole book fiasco.
Ralph honestly doesn’t know what to think and spends the next several days dwelling. If his goal was to get you to see him, it’s worked. You’ve certainly noticed him. He wishes it had been under more flattering circumstances but he decides that beggars can’t be choosers. However, now he’s run out of advice and aside from those particular interactions, he hasn’t had many with you. He can’t. Every time you’re in the same room, he gets so flustered he has to leave. Or Victoria is there and he can’t try to converse with you.
His plan is quickly becoming a miserable failure.
About a week later, he finds himself in the sitting room, contemplating his situation, when Horace sits next to him. “Alright, Ralph, you’ve been pouting for days. What’s wrong?” he asks.
Ralph purses his lips together. “I am not pouting!” However, when Horace simply raises an eyebrow, he sighs heavily. “I’m hopeless. Absolutely, hopeless.”
“Why do you think that?”
“I’ve met someone, Horace. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and I’ve been trying to get her to notice me, but I feel all I’ve done is embarrass myself. And before you say anything, it’s not Lauren.”
“Mate, I know that. You’re talking about the new maid, yeah?”
Ralph looks at him, eyes wide with surprise. “How did you know?”
Horace chuckles. “I see things most people don’t. You’re always looking at her when you think she can’t see you and ducking out of the room. It’s pretty obvious.”
Ralph groans and buries his face in his hands. “What am I to do, Horace? Victoria has made it perfectly clear no fraternizing with the help. And all the advice I was given backfired spectacularly.”
“Whose advice?”
“Jason, Nick, Lauren…”
Horace laughs, shaking his head. “See, there’s your problem right there, bruv. Never go to those three for any life advice. What did they tell you?”
“Show skin, smart is sexy, don’t be myself.”
“Yeah, sounds about right. What’s wrong with being yourself?”
Ralph shrugs, throwing his hands up. “I don’t know! Lauren didn’t elaborate.”
Horace sighs heavily and shakes his head. “Don’t listen to her. Of course she would say that because you’re not her type. That doesn’t mean you’re not anyone else’s type. Look, throwing away all that you’ve been told and forgetting Victoria’s silly rule, what do your instincts tell you to do?”
“To woo her!” Ralph says, excitedly grabbing Horace’s arm, vibrating with energy. “To shower her with gifts and affection, to tell her she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen and I want to write songs about her smile.”
Horace laughs and pries Ralph’s hand off his arm. “Alright, alright, relax. Now think of all those things and push them aside. Don’t forget them, just, scale it down a bit and let’s start smaller.”
Ralph searches his mind, trying to think of a romantic gesture he could do that wouldn’t be too ostentatious. “Dinner,” he says. “A small dinner. Intimate, just the two of us. She cooks for all of us though so I would cook for her.” He grins as Horace and boasts with a shake of excitement, “I’m quite skilled in the kitchen. Pastries are my specialty.”
“See, there you go!” Horace says. “I think that sounds nice. Simple, romantic, while also discreet.”
Ralph’s mind is alive with ideas and he can’t wait to get started. He flings his arms around Horace in a tight hug. “Thank you!” he says before bolting for his bedroom.
When he gets there, he runs to his desk and sits down. Going through his stationary, he begins to draft an elegant invitation, crumpling page after page to start from scratch several times.
It’s late in the evening when he finally finishes, proud of his work. He selects a blue ribbon, almost the same shade as his bowtie, and carefully ties the invitation closed with it.
Ralph checks the time, going through your schedule in his mind that he assuredly observed and committed to memory days ago. Now is the perfect time to deliver it personally. He catches you as you’re coming out of the kitchen, having just finished evening clean up. The other servant is already down the hall when Ralph shows himself, suddenly stepping out in front of you.
You jump in surprise. “Ralph! You startled me!” you say, hand over your heart. “Jesus.”
“This is for you,” he says, handing you the invitation.
You stare at it in awe as he shoves it into your hands. “What is it?”
Ralph fidgets with excitement as you carefully open it. “I would like to ask you to have dinner with me on Friday night. I am aware my sister has her party and you will be in the kitchen all day, so once the party is underway, I would like to personally provide a meal for you…if that’s agreeable.”
You clutch the paper to your chest and stare at him with wide eyes. “Ralph…this is…”
He tries not to be nervous, tries not to imagine all the horrible ways this can go wrong. Is too much? Too little? He should have done more. Blasted, he should have went and bought a dozen roses before the stall closed. What kind of a man offers a woman a romantic invitation without a dozen long-stemmed red roses!
“This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever asked of me,” you say. “I accept the invitation. I would love to have dinner with you.”
Ralph reigns in his excitement, though he does give you a wide grin. “Lovely. Wonderful. Excellent.” He pauses for a moment. “And to be clear, I do mean this in a romantic courting sense. Though, if that’s not something you’re interested in, I completely understand and would not expect you to do anything you’re not comfortable—”
To Ralph’s amazement, you lean forward and place a gentle kiss on his cheek. He’s stunned into silence, his hand reaching up to lay over the spot.
“With.”
“My answer is still the same,” you say. “What time?”
“It’s…it’s…” Ralph points with his free hand to the paper in your hands. “Says there…the time. And attire. Formal. Well, causal formal.”
You nod excitedly. “I’ll be ready. I cannot wait!”
And with that, you leave him right where he is, his hand still pressed to his cheek. When he’s alone, Ralph jumps up and down and pumps his fists before pulling himself together and hurrying back to his room.
He has a date to plan.
Taglist:
@palomahasenteredthechat​ 
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piastrinorris · 2 years ago
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busy streets and busy lives • ralph penbury x reader
A strange day at work gets even stranger when you meet a man who claims he's from 1926. With no certainty as to when he can get back, you decide to take him in until that time arrives.
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masterlist | prev. | next
Tags: Timewasters (series), modern!au, slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love™, fluff, some angst, swearing and mentions of adult themes throughout, eventual adult content, alcohol content, drug content, penbury is a fanon surname
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Word count: 14.2k
A/N: Jesus. H. Christ. Thank you for your patience. This chapter broke me. Goodnight.
(Also please note there is a new content warning in the tags! There is slight drug use in this chapter.)
PS i know, it's a lot of angst, and you guys are here for the cute fluffy timey-wimey boy. i promise next chapter is far nicer, i just didn't want it to get boring, is all. <3
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It had been so long. He’d been doing so well. You thought you could just happily leave Ralph at home and he could stay out of trouble. But several missed calls from your friends alerts you to the incident that the group chat were talking about:
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With a heavy sigh, you text your co-manager, asking them to cover for you so you could leave for what you call a “family emergency”. Thankfully, you’ve had to do it often enough in the past that they just assume you’ve got a really chaotic younger sibling or something, but it still gets a little frustrating that it’s his third month of living with you and you’re still having to be on call 24/7 for him. Surely by now, he could have googled whether it was safe to microwave a whole egg. And how on earth do you accidentally go live?! There are steps to it, it’s not as though it’s a button he can accidentally press. Only Ralph, honestly.
Still, you can’t stay mad at him. Not when he’s sat on the kitchen floor, muttering to himself in exponential anguish as he reads every cleaning product label to try and determine which one is best for the task at hand.              
You spot his phone still resting on the counter and look at the screen in confusion. “How are there still three and a half thousand of you watching my wall?!” You ask into the camera.
Ralph sits up on his knees to look at his phone, too, and you hold back laughter at the camera’s shot of just his hair and eyes above your kitchen counter. “What do you mean, watching?”
“You’ve been broadcasting for hours, mate. Say goodbye to your followers!” You chirp as you hover over the button to end the feed.
Ralph sinks back to the floor with a defeated, “Oh, fiddlesticks,” and you stop the livestream.
You look at the bottles he has surrounding him and hold your hand out, “Here, gimme the green one.”
He hands it over to you, and gets up quickly, moving over to sit on the sofa in silence. You sigh in resignation, looking over at him as he hugs a cushion to his chest. Quickly wiping down the inside of your microwave, you tidy up the rest of the kitchen after him and sit on the other end of the couch, cross-legged. “Hey.” You crane your neck to try and catch his gaze, but he refuses to. “Hey. You know I’m not mad at you, right? It’s just all the stuff I’ve had going on today all balled up into one big outburst. I’m sorry if I made you feel that way.”
“I suppose you shall be on your way back to work now,” he mutters into the cushion.
You shake your head, “Nah, already forfeited the rest of the day as unpaid because the other manager’s covering. Usually I’d swap it for another shift, but we’re going away next week, so…” You shrug. “No chance there.”
Ralph looks up, the pillow obscuring everything but his sad puppy-dog eyes. “G-going away? Wher- who wi- how lo-”
“Where, Brighton,” you tap one finger. “Ever been?” He shakes his head. “Ah, you’ll love it.” You tap another finger, “Who with, please, like I have any other friends,” you scoff, “so don’t worry, you won’t be meeting anybody new -”
Ralph’s eyes widen in a double take. “Wh- I’m going, too?”
“Well, I clearly can’t leave you here with me, can I?” You ask pointedly, jerking your head behind you towards the now clean microwave. “At least the sofa in the Brighton house pulls out into a proper bed size. How long,” you tap a third finger, “we leave here tomorrow afternoon, leave Brighton next Saturday morning.”
Ralph suddenly finds all his energy, “And just when were you planning on letting me know to start packing?!”
“Well, tomorrow morning, I thought, it’s just a case of shoving some clothes in a bag for a week. It’s not like we’re going to the Ritz or anything,” you shrug. “But we’ve got time to get a head start now if you really need it.”
“If I need -” Ralph scoffs at you as he leaps off the sofa and into the bedroom. All you can do is sigh as you watch him sprint across the room.
~~~
You probably should have figured out, with six of you taking three cars, that it wasn’t going to just be six of you. Grace’s new boyfriend - who you barely recognise yourself until Ralph, of all people, informs you that they’d met on his first night out with you all - and Scott’s partner, who Ralph is thrilled to be reunited with.
It does raise some questions to you about everyone’s sleeping arrangements, since usually Grace and Anna share the biggest room, leaving the three other bedrooms in the house for the rest of you. You’re about to suggest that you sleep on the sofa here, too, to give Ralph the bedroom, when instead you watch Connor throw his bag down on it.
You frown, “Oh, I was gonna stay down here to give Ralph a-”
“No, no, absolutely not,” Anna interjects, shaking her head. “I already worked out, it’s better if you two take the biggest bedroom, the two couples share a bedroom each, and then I tried to fight my case for the sofa, but Connor insisted on it.”
“What a gent,” you comment jokingly. You wonder if Ralph saw it that way, but daren’t look in his direction, in case he takes that the wrong way and assumes you want him to react. 
“So - so this bedroom that we’re staying in, is - is there -?” Ralph stammers, his eyes squeezing shut and opening at a rapid pace. You’ve been able to recognise that as a nervous reaction of his.
“Pretty sure there’s one bed, yeah. But if that’s too scandalous for you, I’m sure I can get a fold-out or something,” you explain, but Ralph’s eyes quickly look around the room before he shakes his head. He can’t quite make eye contact with you.
“No, no, it’s quite… Nothing wrong with being bedfellows, right?”
You shake your head, “Sure, whatever you say. Let me take our bags up - Connor, since yours are there, why don’t you show the newbies around the house and the rest of us can get our rooms set up?”
Connor agrees and you sling the strap of your duffel bag over your shoulder and pick up the suitcase Ralph’s using to take them both up the two flights of stairs to the biggest bedroom in the house.
You really should make work on unpacking yours and Ralph’s clothes for the week, or at least getting your toiletries out, but the bed calls to you like a siren from the deep seas. Throwing the bags on the floor, you launch yourself onto the bed. Oh, sweet spongy mattress! An actual duvet that covers all of you and then some! Pillows without an armrest digging into the back of your head!
The drive down was tiring enough that you can feel your eyes getting heavy. You try to get up again, to fight the urge to sleep too early and miss out on your first night traditions.
You’re awoken by a gentle pressure shoving your wrist down into the bed. And then your elbow. And then your shoulder. You eventually figure out that the sound that accompanies it is Ralph calling your name. “Ah, you’ve awoken! Welcome back.”
You sit up suddenly, “Oh Christ, I’m so sorry! I didn’t want to do that, oh god, what time is it?!”
“Not to worry! Everybody is waiting to go to dinner, they said this is the time you all go anyway,” Ralph assures you. You notice that he’s stood bolt upright, but with his head turned almost upside down to look at you. You let out a sleepy chuckle as you start moving out of the bed, and Ralph quickly darts out of the room. You try not to read into that too much.
You’re greeted with a chorus of, “Alright, sleepyhead?” “It lives!” “What time d’you call this?!” You flip your friends off and fake going back up the stairs before running ahead to the front door.
Once you’ve all got your food, you sit where you always do - a bench that overlooks the pier, all its illuminations making it obvious against the dark sea beneath it. Knowing you’re finally on holiday, surrounded by the people you love most in the world, in your most favourite place, enjoying one of your favourite traditions as your lap cradles the bundle of warmth that is your portion of fish and chips as you hear the gentle crashing of waves. Knowing that all your troubles are currently almost a hundred miles away. You feel a sense of contentment, a rare zen moment. You can’t remember the last time you felt this calm.
And then, ironically, a voice laced with disgruntlement interrupts your train of thought. “Is this really any way to spend a night? You can barely see anything, this is by far the least dignified way to eat, and I fear I may come down with pneumonia before the night is through,” Ralph complains.
“Eat quicker, you’ll warm up quicker,” you prompt him. “This is why I wanted to get you a hat, but you didn’t ‘trust me’,” you mock with a smirk.
“That’s ’cause I’m your favourite to shop with, innit, Ralphie?” Connor calls from further down the bench.
“The guy who bought him clothes that feature an Angry Birds and Star Wars crossover does not deserve bragging rights,” you scoff, to laughter from most of the others.
“Ignore that lot, mate, here, have mine for now!” Connor takes his hat off and puts it on Ralph’s head. There’s something rather endearing about Ralph wearing a hat with ear flaps, but even more so when they’ve folded back on each other enough that they stick out to the sides.
“Are you quite sure?” Ralph asks, eyes wide and pleading.
“Yeah, shoved my hand in my pocket earlier and realised I had a beanie in here, too,” Connor grins as he puts another hat on his head. 
“You’re such a twat,” Grace laughs, and Connor acts offended.
“Excuse you! I was merely looking out for my best mate here!” Ralph’s face lights up at those words.
Trying not to focus on how cute that is, you grin, “Did you wanna share the bed with Ralph, then?”
Connor’s mood shifts at that. He suddenly shakes his head and goes quiet as the others hurriedly change the subject. They tell Ralph about how you’ve all hired out the same house from Airbnb for years now, how the tradition of visiting every year came to be, asking Ralph if he’d ever been to a beach before. He vaguely recalls going to “a sandy beach” when he and his sister were very young, for a few years. You’ve had a few heart-to-hearts with Ralph about his father’s death and his mother’s admission to rehabilitation, but he doesn’t bring it up to the group. You still give his hand a gentle squeeze, to let him know that you understand if he’s getting upset. He wriggles his hand against yours until your fingers interlock, and he squeezes back, using his free hand to pull the ear flaps of his new hat down to cover his.
You keep hold of Ralph’s hand as you walk back to the house, just to let him know that you’re still there for him - though you’d be lying if you weren’t also letting yourself indulge in the idea of you both taking a romantic late-evening stroll along the beachfront, just a little. Of course, usually when you allow yourself these small delusions, it ends up warping the little grievances the two of you have into something far more infuriating than they probably actually are - something’s got to bring you back to reality, after all. But you can’t see any reason why you’d possibly get far enough to snap while you’re on holiday.
Once you’re back to the house, and you and Ralph are making your way upstairs, you tell him to get himself changed in the bedroom while you do so in the bathroom. You grab some pyjamas from your bag, as well as your washbag, and head in to get yourself ready for the night. A quick silent pep talk with your own reflection to remind yourself that your walk back with Ralph was strictly platonic, and you’re ready to go back out to the living room for some games with your friends before bed.
As you step out of the bathroom, you hear a short, shrill shriek. Your eyes dart immediately to Ralph sat on the side of the bed who, despite the fact that he is wearing an undershirt, still censors his chest from view with his pyjama shirt, staring at you with wide eyes.The shade of his ears is unusually deep compared to when he’s usually surprised. Assuming you’re paying far too close attention to such a minor detail for no reason, you snort out a laugh, tell him to meet you downstairs and go to meet the others.
Though Ralph doesn’t understand a lot of the games you all play that rely heavily on pop culture knowledge, he’s a big fan of those that rely on skill and/or general hilarity, since his cluelessness usually helps him there. You advise that he take a backseat upon the suggestion of Jackbox, much to the others’ chagrin - you just feel as though he isn’t quite ready for that, yet. You’re proven right when he constantly asks you for clarification on just what makes a particular answer funny, or when his ears burn up at a particularly racy answer. Connor had expressed interest in showing Ralph the ropes when it came to some games, and you tried to encourage him to go over there, but Ralph insisted on you being his teacher. You assume it’s because you know better than anyone how to explain things to him, but internally your imagination is  playing a very dangerous game.
When you awaken in the bed the next morning, Ralph is still sleeping soundly next to you. He’s almost at the edge of his side of the bed, back turned to you. You slowly make your way out of your side and sneak past him, out of the room and down to the kitchen.
“No Ralph?” Scott asks as you walk in.
“Hello to you, too,” you jokingly flip your friend off and he smiles sweetly in return. “Nah, he’s still sparko. Dunno why.”
“Didn’t he sleep well?” Anna frowns.
You shrug. “Couldn’t tell you, I slept like a log!”
Ralph stirs from all the way upstairs, assuming from the open door that you’d already left the room but still staying still just in case. He slowly starts to roll around to look, allowing himself a sigh of relief as he sprawls out on the bed. He’d only slept once he’d finally exhausted himself from trying to stay as deliberately far away from you as possible. 
His mind would wander, of course. How peaceful you must look when you sleep. How wonderful it would be to awaken with his face a mere touching distance from yours. On occasion, he’d hear you take an extra deep breath and he’d get giddy at the realisation that he was breathing the same air as you!
That’s when he’d rein it in. Stupid Ralph. That’s exactly what scared Lauren off. It’s been months since that week, and still he hasn’t learned. In the present moment, Ralph pushes the heels of his hands into his eyes and bares his teeth in frustration at himself. Desperate to think of anything other than the thought of waking up next to you just as the sun shone against you in the most perfect of ways, making you appear even more radiant than usual. Of your eyes slowly opening as you wake. Ralph finally gives into temptation and indulges himself in the idea of your sleepy smile, in this dream universe where you’d be happy to wake up to see him. And what a perfect sight that would be.
He takes himself to the bathroom, picking up his razor and twirling the handle around between his fingers and thumb, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. He’s already shaved his facial hair clean off on several occasions. It keeps him remembering who the real Ralph Penbury is. You and your friends always complain when he does it, though. They tell him that he’s not Our Ralph when he looks like that. He’d love nothing more than to be Their Ralph. Especially to you. What was the point of being the other Ralph? Going back to a penniless, friendless, loveless, overall fruitless life?
But you’re always reminding him, this isn’t his era. This isn’t permanent. You’re always preparing him to go back to his own time at any point. A part of Ralph - the stupidly optimistic, nay, deluded part - hopes that it’s simply a fear of the unknown, that messing with time in such a way could cause devastating effect. Though what a stupid thing to think, in what universe would Ralph have such a massive impact?! 
With a heaving sigh, he tidies his facial hair up to a minimum while keeping it intact. A part of him still hesitates, still debates going further. It's what you'd want. Except also it isn't, because you always tell him he looks better with it. Ye gods, you're a confusing one.
Ralph gets himself dressed and makes it downstairs in just enough time to catch breakfast being dished up. You whisper something to Scott as soon as Ralph approaches, and Scott hands him a plate with a warm smile alongside everyone else eating, before setting everything up to make another portion for you. Ralph wants to frown, but he doesn't want to draw attention to himself, either. Why would you immediately sacrifice your breakfast for him, when he's the one who came downstairs later? Why would you see him being fed first as more important? Why not let him make that decision? He would have been happy to wait.
You feel Ralph's eyes boring into you as he scarfs his eggs down, but the one time you try and look back at him he acts as though he's trying not to get caught. You wonder what he could possibly be thinking, until Anna starts talking about the day's itinerary. This is good, this is distracting from the awkwardness, this is what the holiday is all about.
All wrapped up for a brisk November morning, you all head out to the pier, as per tradition. As Ralph gets face to face with the rides, he looks up at them, horrified, and you frown. "Are you scared of rides, or something?" He looks back down at the pier floor, watching the waves crash beneath a gap in the planks, with more fear in his eyes. "Hey, hey," you soothe, "eyes up." Ralph eventually tears his gaze away to look at you. "I promise it's all safe. It's not like those travelling funfairs where everything gets wheeled in and out, everything's built to stay here. Alright?" He still seems distracted, and before you can stop yourself, you blurt out, "Wanna hold my hand again?"
Stupid. What happened to not feeding the delusion? What happened to distancing yourself? What happened to being realistic? You know exactly what happened. Those damn baby-cow eyes. Hopefully Ralph'll say no. It'll be too scandalous for him to hold hands in public with people all around, surely.
But no. His fingers very carefully slide between yours yet again as he squeezes your hand gratefully. You keep both of your hands relatively tucked away from the others' view - they've already got you two sharing a bed, the last thing you need is having to constantly try to convince them all that you and Ralph aren't an item. Despite the fact that it would certainly be a good thing for you, a constant reminder to you that it can never happen, you know your friends well enough by now to know that they’d only take it as denial. That they’d keep pressing to ‘uncover’ whatever they believe you’re hiding. And you’ve gone this long keeping your one big secret from them, what if they keep digging until they find that out?!
Your train of thought is interrupted by a loud giggle from Ralph. He sees the photo op cutout of a cop and robber chase scene and he’s delighted by it. “Wanna pose?” You let go of Ralph’s hand to take your phone out and hand it to one of your friends as you both run behind the photo stand. Ralph finds the resulting picture absolutely hilarious. 
“I always wanted to do one of those,” he muses as the pair of you hang back for him to once again hold your hand, to your own chagrin. Why couldn’t you have offered to link arms? That’s friendly enough. Can’t really be misconstrued. His smile, small but contented, melts your frustrations away, if only to add to them later on as you’re walking with him.
“Did they not have people taking your photo for you, even, in those days, then?” you ask quietly, so as not to be overheard.
Ralph half-shrugs, “There were cameras, you know. Far bigger than those little pocket ones everyone has now!”
“Yeah, I think I know of them. Big box things, someone would have to stand under a curtain and hold out a thing to press to take it, right?” you ask.
Ralph holds back his laughter as he replies with amusement, “By a thing to press, do you mean a button, by any chance?”
You pull a sarcastic face at him. “I’m leaving you stranded here,” you joke, tugging him in a particular direction to show him you’re not serious. “You’re spending too much time around me, I think. Starting to sound like me and everything,” you shake your head.
“Is that such a bad thing?” Ralph asks in a small voice.
Trying not to overthink what else that could mean, you shrug, “Well, I s’pose if I’ve a part to play in you being able to tell your sister to shove it, then not really. But using my own brand of sarcasm against me?” You tut, again shaking your head. “I’ve created a monster.” Ralph laughs gently at you as everyone stops at their first ride: the Turbo roller coaster. 
Everyone laughs at the shade of green Ralph turns. “I promise you, mate, it’s far scarier down here than it is up there,” Connor tries to reassure him, but Ralph is fixated on the loop in the track.
“Honestly, Ralphie babe, that is the tiniest loop you’ll ever go on. It’ll be over before you even know it, and by the time it is over, you’ll love it, promise!” Grace holds her little finger out to Ralph, who stares at it with fearful eyes for a few beats before linking his own, to everyone’s cheers.
You allow your hands to be a little less obscured, under the guise that Ralph is only scared of the ride and so you are providing a temporary comfort. Anna also rests her head against Ralph’s arm, and Scott places a comforting hand on his shoulder, at your invitation. “The more of us that comfort him, the better, right?” you explain. “Plus, if there’s any… Prying eyes…” You look around anxiously. “At least they can’t assume that Ralph and I are dating just ’cause we’re stood together,” you roll your eyes exaggeratedly. “I don’t need that sort of attention, it’s bad enough on socials.”
You don’t see Ralph’s change in demeanour. What was a quiet excitement mellowed amongst the fear of the ride, turns to full-blown dejection. Of course you’d be embarrassed to be associated with him. Who wouldn’t be? No matter what era he’s in, he’s still Ralph.
Anna interrupts his train of thought by rubbing his arm, “You alright, Ralph?” He nods, pushing a smile up his cheeks. “Nervous?” She asks, and he nods silently. She hugs his arm tight. “Honestly, there’s nothing to it.”
“Yeah, you’ll be a thrill-seeker like the rest of us in no time!” Scott grins before nudging you and Ralph each. “You two should get a photo on the Crazy Mouse for the flat!”
You shake your head, “Come off it, like either of us would want a photo of us being flung around like that! Right, Ralph?” Again, he nods without saying a word. Your brow furrows, “Are you okay? Did you want to sit this one out?” He shakes his head. “Sure? We can just go get food if you would rather watch this lot go round first and then we can go later,” you offer, but he shakes his head again.
“Besides, it’s not like it’d be the worst photo of him out there,” a completely strange voice from the other side of the queue barrier makes you jump.
“Excuse me?!” Scott exclaims.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you all! We just saw Ralph, and then you, and really wanted to get a photo, if that’s okay?” They ask you. They seem innocent enough, just asking for a picture, but you still can’t help but stand there awkwardly.
“Oh, I’m not really into that side of things, I only got my socials to make sure people are being normal about him,” you shrug them off before adding, “and to reward you all with some extra content if you’re all behaving!” They laugh, and you turn to Ralph. “What do you say, do you wanna take a photo with some of your fans?”
Ralph approaches the barrier and leans over it to pose for the photo, pressing his lips together into a smile as he holds an arm around his first in-person fan. “My friends and I just think you’re absolutely hilarious!” They smile up at him.
“Oh, please,” he laughs, flustered. Though he has his new hat on, you can guess what’s happening beneath it. “My lack of knowledge of technology doesn’t necessarily make me hilarious, anyone could do that.”
“Nah, there’s a sort of… Natural charm about you. Plus, I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this, but you’re really cute. Even in that photo that’s going around.”
Ralph sputters nervously as the rest of you exchange glances. You manage to hide your seething rage from your friends, though you feel it boring through your eyes as they fixate on this person. “Ah, don’t be so silly! You’re far too kind. Um, is that your friend over there waving you away?” He asks as someone approaches, thankfully dragging their friend away while talking about spotting a Twitch streamer as they head in the direction of some poor sod wearing a black and white face covering. You wonder whether that’s their ‘thing’ or if they’re doing it to avoid detection. You wonder if you’ll have to do that with Ralph at some point. His internet fame is becoming less and less of the laugh it first seemed to be with every day.
“You alright?” Anna again checks in with Ralph, who looks slightly bewildered still.
“Should I have responded differently there?” He asks.
You’re quick to answer, “No! No, I think you did the right thing, there.” You then hurriedly follow it up with a, “I mean, dating fans is never a good idea, right?”
“Yeah, not gonna lie, that made me uncomfortable,” Connor cringes. “You handled it way better than me, mate.” Ralph feels a sense of pride at his words. The line starts to move and soon enough, you’re all getting into carriages yourself. 
You make sure you and Ralph are in one near the middle, so he feels safer. Once you’re all strapped in, and the attendant is sure Ralph is, too, you see him already squeezing his eyes half-shut in anticipation. You poke him gently and hold your hand out again. “It’ll be here if you need it, okay?”
“Oh, it’s quite alright, I wouldn’t want to be a -” Ralph starts, but as the coaster jolts into motion he quickly grasps your hand tightly.
Ralph’s half-laugh/half-scream serenades you throughout the whole ride, especially at the loop. Once the ride brings you back upright again, you look over at him. “Was that so bad?”
“Boy, that was exhilarating, wasn’t it?!” He beams, and everyone else cheers for him from their own seats.
“You did it, Ralphie!” “We’re so proud of you, babe!” “Reckon we’ve awoken the thrillseeker in you?” Ralph’s too giddy to answer any of those. 
You can barely get him to stand upright without his legs turning to jelly, unless you get him to hold your arms while you hold his. He falls into your arms with a giddy laugh, and you gently shove him onto his own gait. “Easy, tiger!” You giggle. “God knows what you’re gonna be like on the other rides.”
Once he sees the Crazy Mouse coaster in action, that green hue in his skin returns, so you decide to build his courage up a little more. His face simply turns white when he sees the ghost train. Scott notices and rolls his eyes, “Oh my god, Ralph, don’t even worry about it, this is literally the least scary ride on here.”
His partner pipes up, “Yeah, there’s scarier creatures on the merry-go-round than there are in there!”
“I wonder if they’ve put the face back on that animatronic from last year or not?” You ask, before looking over to Ralph, who looks horrified. “It’s unintentionally the scariest thing there, and it’s not even that bad. Trust me. Remember?” You hold your hand out, wiggling your fingers. “If you need it.”
“What if… People assume?” Ralph asks, trying not to spit the word out with the venom that wants to follow it.
You shrug, “I think your face justifies your need to have someone hold your hand. If you’d rather, you can sit with Connor or Anna, I was just suggesting -” He takes your hand again in silence, and you walk him over to queue up at the ghost train.
The moment the ride takes you into a dark hallway, Ralph buries his face in your shoulder, and you pat his cheek comfortingly. However, as he starts to see the quality of the animatronics (“Was that one being held up by -” “Duct tape, yes.”) and experience how poorly timed the “jump scares” are, he relaxes far more. 
You take him on the twister next, which only ends up throwing your body into his at every convenience, a consequence you’d forgotten in the year since you’d last been on it. Still, he seemed too invested in the adrenaline rush that came with being thrown around in circles to notice your proximity.
After a quick pit stop to eat, and reassurance to Ralph that you weren’t going straight back onto any rides, you go into the arcade. Ralph’s face lights up along with all the games as you explain what ones are. He excitedly tells you that he recognised the fortune teller machine and a strength tester game from his own youth. 
You let the others go on ahead as you and Ralph pay for a go on the fortune teller. It tells you, “A smile is worth a hundred frowns in any market!” You look at Ralph with the biggest smile you can muster, and he returns with one of your favourite expressions of his, the big fake animatronic-style smile that could rival the fortune teller. “And lucky for you, the great Zoltar sees much happiness ahead for you!” You bite your lip at the irony. Does that mean Ralph's happiness, that he’ll be returning home soon? Your happiness, that he’ll be staying? Or is it just a randomly generating machine?
It prints off a fortune and you read it together: You may be riding the winds of change. Things may at times seem to be out of touch. Soon they will come to a better order. As the blessings of health and fortune have a beginning, so they must also find an end. Everything rises but to fall. To make sense of all this, you will find the answer is to be found in how well you relate to people. Looking at the big picture will help shape your long range plans. If things are not always smooth remember that he who could foresee affairs but three days in advance would be rich for thousands of years.
You blow out a long breath of disbelief at how weirdly on the nose that seems to be for you both and quickly pocket it to find the others. Grace is trying to get her new boyfriend to win her a stuffed toy on the cranes. Scott is trying to finesse a coin-pusher game while his partner and Connor play a dance mat game behind him, and Ralph leaves you to watch in awe as Anna plays a pinball machine. She tries to explain the mechanics of it all to him, but it seems to be going entirely over his head.
You play your favourite game for a while, trying to win as many tickets as possible, when Ralph soon joins you as well. “Any luck with pinball?” You ask, and Ralph shakes his head.
“I wasn’t sure how to play it, I didn’t really seem to be doing anything, rather just pushing an awful lot of buttons for the sake of it,” he answers. 
“Sounds like you were playing it right to me!” You laugh. “What do you wanna do now?”
“Well,” he says, excitement obvious in his voice. “I saw one of those photo booths around there…”
You gasp, “Yes! Let’s do it!” before looking around with disappointment. “Ugh, how are we gonna fit everyone in, though?”
“Perhaps we can get individual ones with people across the week?” Ralph suggests.
“Alright,” you nod. “Wanna get some practice in, just us?” Ralph nods back at you, and you both head into the booth.
Once you’ve paid for it, Ralph asks, “Now how does it all work, again?”
“Right, it’ll tell you when - oh, for fuck’s sake,” you groan as it takes a photo of you mid-sentence, and Ralph stifles a laugh. “Okay, quick, when’s it taking anoth- ahh!” Another snap takes you by surprise, and Ralph doesn’t attempt to hide his amusement this time. You throw your hands up in disbelief, “Well, this is a waste now, isn’t it,” before collapsing into laughter yourself.
“I am sorry,” Ralph frowns at you once all four are taken, and you wave him off. 
“Don’t be! I should have set us a game plan from the beginning.” You decide on your poses: a normal, smiley one; a goofy-grinning one; one with both your tongues sticking out; and one where you kiss his cheek. You promise him that it’s not at all scandalous to pose in this way, and that between Grace and Scott, at least one of them would want a photo with him like it anyway so you’re simply getting him geared up for that. You’re promising yourself that more than him, if you’re being honest with yourself.
You end up posing for the first one with your heads touching as you smile gently into the camera. He’s not giving his usual uncomfortable smile, or his disappearing-lip act. It’s just a nice, natural smile. Which is immediately replaced with a fake smile so big, he has to hold himself up on the bench with both of his hands to hold himself at an angle worthy of the grin on his face, which you mirror. When you tell him, “Tongues out!” yours pokes straight out towards the camera, but he lets his loll out to show off the flat of his tongue to the camera instead. You remind him to look ahead for the last one by pointing at the screen, and then holding the cheek furthest from you to push it closer to you, feeling his freshly trimmed down stubble scratch at your lips as you feel them press against the warm flesh of his cheek beneath.
Once all four are done, you quickly get out to make sure both strips are still there to collect. Thankfully, nobody else has seen them, and you pick them both up to study them. You try not to focus on the bottom photo of the second strip, instead looking at the total disaster that is the first strip. Most of them are blurry and far from flattering, but the final one. What is it with the last photo with you two?! You’re laughing, as is Ralph, but the way Ralph is angled, you could just as easily fool yourself into believing that he’s looking at you as though he’s madly in love with you.
As he emerges, he asks, “So, were those first ones completely unusable?”
Quickly tearing off the bottom photo to pocket it, you crumpled up the remaining three and throw them in the bin. “Yeah, pretty much! Here, hold onto these ones, though, and we can put them on the fridge when we get back home.”
Home. Do you mean that to mean your home is Ralph’s, too, or are you speaking on your own terms? Neither of you know, to be honest.
Your friends reconvene around you, and you tell them of yours and Ralph’s plan for each of them to get a mini photoshoot with him, what with it being his first time on this holiday with you all. Everyone happily accepts getting their own photo ops in with Ralph, and you love watching how everyone poses with him. Your personal favourites are Anna teaching him how to throw up deuces as they pull funny faces, Connor teaching him how to make hand horns as they stick their tongues out, Scott and his partner both kissing each of Ralph’s cheeks, and Ralph’s feigned disgust as Grace drapes herself over her boyfriend.
After all that excitement, you decide you’ll return to the rides another day. Instead, you find a nice little Italian place to eat that’s taken over an old cafe you had used to love coming to, but this new restaurant has an even better vibe than its predecessor. That, and Ralph learning how to eat spaghetti through trial and error is hilarious, especially when he decides that the best way is to simply find the ends of as many strands as possible and slurp them all up. The rest of you make a game of picking a strand each and seeing which one lasts the longest.
On the way back, Ralph gets recognised again. Thankfully, this person knows better than to flirt with a total stranger, though Ralph still seems astounded at the whole experience. This fan says something about being able to replace their icon from “the explosion photo”, and so, remembering the one from earlier mentioning an unflattering picture, once you’re all back at the house you look through Ralph’s follower list and burst into laughter. 
It seems as though his fans have taken a screenshot of his disdain after microwaving the egg and made it their profile pictures. Some have left it as is, with your kitchen in the background. Some have added further explosions and other phenomena in the background. Ralph is the only one who doesn’t see the funny side, the disappointment returning to his expression.
With a sigh, you promise him, yet again, that there is no need to be upset. You’re not upset with him, the flat was easily cleaned, the microwave remains functional. You understand that this comes from years of being raised poorly, but having to constantly remind Ralph that you aren’t mad at him, is ironically the thing that frustrates you the most about him.
The next day, after again waking up to Ralph practically on the edge of his side of the bed, you decide to go to the Lanes to explore some of the vintage shops. Mostly, for your own amusement, you want to watch Ralph react to what is considered “vintage”, but you know you’re going to have to rein it in around everyone else. The day flies by in a montage of trying on ridiculously old clothes, ones that even Ralph turns his nose up at, trying to find the most cursed old toys in every shop, and Ralph trying desperately to stifle his excitement every time he recognises something from his own time period. Ralph gets recognised again by a young, tall blonde boy and his shorter brunette friend, though those two soon get accosted themselves, which allows you to get Ralph away to the safety of a quieter shop.
After your shopping excursion, you return to the pier to play some more games, this time from the attractions around the pier. Thankfully, Ralph seems far more confident walking on it, so there’s no need for you to offer any hand-holding services - although it does already feel strange walking around with both hands empty. You manage to win a stuffed animal on a throwing game, and Ralph decides his skill set is best utilised playing hook-a-duck - though he throws the person running the game off of their rhythm when the prize he asks for is to keep the duck itself, as Ralph personally has no use for stuffed animals. The person running the game, totally baffled, ends up letting Ralph keep the rubber duck, which he seems thrilled about, placing the hook over his finger and letting the duck swing from it with great delight.
“I think I get why cats like him so much,” Connor comments from where he’s stood just behind you as you watch Ralph. “You know how you can buy them all the expensive toys they want but they just wanna play in the box?” You snort with laughter in agreement. “He’s just one of them.”
While Ralph insists on everyone referring to the duck by its name, Clarence, he apparently draws the line at your joke of offering to pay for him to shoot a photo booth reel with his new friend. He looks at you with disapproval at that one.
You still utilise Clarence in his own way, though. Everywhere you go from that point onwards, you take a photo of the duck in that area, and then post it to Ralph’s Instagram story for him, though you only do so once you’re no longer in that place, for obvious reasons.
That evening, at the house, Connor tells Ralph he’s got a surprise for him, and to close his eyes and hold his hands out. Your heart swells when you see that Connor, who had excitedly spent the best portion of an hour in a music shop, has bought Ralph his own ukulele. Ralph looks close to tears at the gift. “Oh, Connor, I couldn’t possibly -”
“None of that, you can and you will,” Connor states simply while pointing at him, and Ralph shrinks down in defeat, opting instead to look at the ukulele with marvel. You all spend the night listening to Ralph play his chords, everyone occasionally offering lyrics to the tunes he was playing. God, he fits in so well with you all. It’s going to be so heartbreaking to tell them all when it’s his time to leave.
You wonder if the window of opportunity will only be open while you’re away. It’s a risk you’ve had to take to make sure he stays safe, since he literally only proved days ago that he still can’t be trusted unsupervised. What if you miss it? Would he resent you? Would it cause some insane rip in the time-space continuum? There’s really not a lot of solid research into this whole time travel business.
The next morning, you’re shocked to awaken to Ralph’s face dangerously close to yours as it rests on the inner half of his pillow. You could count his eyelashes, they were that close. You could connect his freckles, they were that close. His lips twitch ever so slightly in his sleep as you’re studying his face. His face that’s so close to yours. His lips that are -
You quickly take yourself out of that trance and practically throw yourself down the stairs, you’re that quick to leave the room, and those thoughts.
Ralph awakens, sadly, from a dream where you’re happy to have him in your arms to find himself near enough in the middle of the bed. He wonders exactly how he got there. You’re already awake, because of course, you always are. You don’t lie awake for almost an hour every night trying desperately to stay as rigidly far away from the centre of the bed as possible.
When Ralph arrives for breakfast, the group have already decided that today is more of a lazy day. They’ll go out later, of course, but there’s no rush. Just a day spent at the house, playing more board games and listening to both Connor and Ralph playing the ukulele as Connor teaches him how to teach himself actual songs. You even post Ralph’s first photo dump to his Instagram account:
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As fun as it is to get out and experience another city, especially getting to do so with Ralph for the first time, you make just as many memories on this rest day. Memories like Ralph not only playing Jackbox for the first time, but somehow winning several games. Memories like watching Grace and her boyfriend playing board games as if they’d been married for years, even though she wrongfully accuses you and Ralph of playing the same way.
In the last hour of sunlight, you realise something. “I haven’t found my rock for this year, yet!”
Ralph looks at you strangely. “Your what?” Before answering his own question. “Do you mean that shelf full of stones in the bedroom has a purpose?”
“Yes! Every year, I find myself a cool-looking rock to take back. It’s tradition,” you explain with a gesture. “Plus, it gets us all out of the house at least once.”
“W’re all goin’ out la’er,” Connor groans from where he lays across the sofa he’s been sleeping on, beneath a mountain of crisps he’s been making his way through.
“At least twice then, lazybones,” you comment, but almost everyone else is happy to stay home.
Everyone except Ralph, who hurriedly gets his shoes on. Of course, it’s just you and Ralph. Alone. Far away from home. Nothing could possibly go wrong, here.
Thankfully, you’re on a mission, here. You can distract yourself with the task of finding the best looking rock on the beach. It can’t just be the first cool rock you see, oh no. It has to be the best one. That’s always been your rule.
Ralph tries to help, but honestly, a puppy would be less excitable. He keeps grabbing the first rock he can, running up to you to ask, “Is this useful?” to which the answer is almost always “no”, and so he simply throws it back to the ground and looks again. There are three separate occasions where he shows you ones he’s already asked you about. But he’s having fun, and he looks adorable, and maybe tonight you’ll be able to delude yourself into a happy little dream where Ralph’d be happy to do anything for you. Though perhaps not quite anything, that sort of dream would have to be reserved for a time when you’re not sharing a bed with him.
You thump the side of your head with the heel of your hand, as though you’re trying to knock the idea out of your brain. There is absolutely no time and place for those kind of thoughts.
At one point, Ralph sees a young child throwing rocks one at a time into the sea, with great delight. Ralph also seems highly entertained by it, and when the kid looks over at him, he decides to join in by grabbing a whole handful of rocks and throwing them all into the water at once. The kid thinks this is the most hilarious thing they’ve ever seen before. Ralph seems happy enough to keep doing it until the kid’s parents take them away. You’re happy to just sit back on the ground and watch Ralph, taking photos and videos of this moment. 
 Ralph soon joins you where you sit, laughing breathlessly. “Oh, what a joy that was!”
“You certainly looked as though you were having a blast,” you simper. “Though if you threw away the ultimate rock amongst all of that, I may never forgive you,” you add in a sarcastic deadpan.
“I would completely understand,” Ralph nods back, unable to keep up any monotony for any amount of time before snorting with laughter. He looks out at the horizon, pointing out how the sky looks now that the sun is starting to set. “Don’t see that very often in London,” he frowns.
You shake your head, “Nah, it’s usually too cloudy. Not that different here, we’ve just caught a good moment. Looks nice, doesn’t it, all reflecting on the water and that?” You cock your head to the side and sigh happily. “Could sit here for hours watching it.”
Ralph tenses up, trying desperately not to think of how your head just rests against his arm, the weight of it still pressing down on the padded sleeve of his coat enough for him to feel it. He swallows hard, “Yes, it’s too bad that the sunset doesn’t last long at all, isn’t it?”
“You’re telling me,” you add with a soft smile before sitting up. “That’s why I wanted to try and get to the beach now, to get to see it at least once. ’m glad you came with me,” you muse before suddenly realising you’re treading into dangerous territory here. To save yourself, you quickly add, “Y’know, so that you get to see it too, while you’re still here. Since you were saying you haven’t been on a holiday like this since you were a kid. Maybe you can go on more of them once you’re back.”
“Maybe,” Ralph replies emotionlessly.
You sit in relative silence as you watch the sky together. You get a “golden hour” selfie with Ralph, mostly to teach him about it, though he says that he doesn’t see much difference between that photo and most of the others you’ve taken in the past. After realising that he’s brought it with him in his pocket, too, you spend a good few minutes laughing along with Ralph as you try to find the most photogenic angle of Clarence the duck to add to his photo collection.
Once the view stops being quite so aesthetically pleasing, you stop off at the pier again to buy some sugared doughnuts to share with Ralph as you make your way over to the pub that you plan to meet your friends at. You love this pub as another of your holiday traditions, because Wednesday nights are karaoke nights. You wonder whether Ralph’ll feel confident enough to sing along to any modern songs. The mental image of Ralph taking to the mic to sing along to Taylor Swift with his entire chest is enough to make you laugh out loud, which confuses Ralph, but you opt to not tell him, merely shaking your head and covering your mouth instead.
To your disappointment when you get there, the pub no longer does karaoke, but Wednesdays are now pub quiz nights. You still stick around for dinner, and after a couple of drinks, you end up signing up for the quiz, for a laugh. None of you expect to get very far, but Grace’s boyfriend really pulls through with sports questions, and even Ralph ends up answering the question that ultimately wins the whole quiz for you, one about a specific style of shoes that had rendered the rest of you clueless.
Everyone ends up watching your group celebrating Ralph. The leaders of the second-place team, an older blonde man and a dark-haired woman he refers to as his wife, even join in with their own congratulations.
 A pair of young women offer to buy Ralph a drink, to which Connor starts encouraging Ralph to go with them. You very quickly make conversation about the rest of the week’s plans with Anna and Grace to distract yourself, but Ralph doesn’t seem interested, much to your confusion. You look around at your friends, who all seem to be exchanging their own looks to each other, but none of them seem to want to look at you. You shake your head and make your way to the bathroom, scoffing indignantly at the two men who barge past you to get to the door next to you.
After a few minutes of silent pep talk to remind yourself that you have no right to feel bad if Ralph expresses interest in someone else, Anna comes in specifically to find her. After promising her a full eight times that you’re absolutely fine, you both head back out to the group, where Scott had brought along a game from the house that you can all play together. You notice Ralph isn’t there, but you don’t bring it up. You’re not his keeper, after all.
~~~
“Ah, ladies, this is quite an honour, obviously, but I am out with friends and it would be rather impolite to just leave them!” Ralph explains hurriedly to the two women who have approached him to congratulate him on his efforts.
“I dunno, your mate there seems pretty keen for you to come over,” one smirks in Connor’s direction.
“I must insist, I could never live with myself for taking advantage of such generous women as yourselves, though I am deeply grateful that you should wish to spend your night in my company! I’m afraid I’m very much not from around here, and so I would get frightfully lost without my friends to guide me home,” Ralph blabbers, getting more and more flustered.
“Maybe you can come back to mine, then?” The other asks, looking suggestively at him as she touches his arm. It’s a gentle contact, but it electrifies Ralph at high voltage as he yelps, pulling it away.
“Truly flattered, but I am a gentleman first and foremost and so I simply must decline such an offer, and I shan’t be staying long enough to court you appropriately, but I wish you both very well in your endeavours!” Ralph practically shouts as he turns on his heel and quickly makes his way to the toilets. 
Ralph walks in on quite a sight. Two men, reasonably bigger than himself, bent double over the sinks. “Pardon me,” Ralph calls out, with the intention on simply throwing some water on his face as a wake-up call of sorts, but the men jump up in surprise at the sound of his voice.
“Ain’t nothing to see here, mate, jog on,” one says, trying to square up against Ralph.
“Sorry, gents, just wanted a quick go at the sink, and then I’ll be out of your hair, I promise!” He smiles brightly, completely oblivious. He catches sight of a line of white powder along the counter and chuckles to himself as he recognises it as cocaine, thinking back to previous parties he’d held at Penbury House.
The first man growls, “Find something funny?”
“Oh, just reminiscing. It’s been a while since I’ve seen… You know,” his eyes flash over to the substance on the counter. “Just fondly remembering old times.”
“Oi, ain’t no way this toff’s a user,” the second man shakes his head.
The first one snarls with a smile, "You a copper?"
"Heavens, no!" Ralph laughs. "Not to worry, gentleman, I'm no telltale, your secret is safe with me!"
"I'm not buying it," the second one looks at Ralph with an upturned nose. "I reckon he's a snitch."
"Well, only one way to prove it, innit," the first one grins uncomfortably at Ralph as he gestures towards the counter. "Care to join us?" he asks in a voice that mocks Ralph's.
“Well, if you insist, I - straight from the counter?” Ralph asks in disgust, but the chorusing snarl answers him quite adequately. “I suppose beggars can’t be choosers!”
Just as he finishes the first line, he’s interrupted by a loud, “RALPH! Fucking hell, get your head out of there! What the fuck is wrong with you two dickheads?!” Connor grabs Ralph by the back of his jumper and throws him back. “You alright? How much have you had?”
“Oh please, it was barely even a full line, it’s nothing,” Ralph insists, to both Connor and Scott’s baffled expressions.
“We don’t have time to unpack that right now,” Connor throws Ralph in Scott’s direction at the emphasis, causing Ralph to trip over his own feet through both of the steps it takes to get there, and Scott catches him, trying to get a good look at his eyes. Connor turns to the two men. “Alright, look.”
“Don’t know that I feel up to much talking,” one snarls.
Connor pulls a sarcastic expression. “Oh yeah, beat a guy up in the same room your coke’s still out for the world to see, good one(!) Shut the fuck up, yeah? We didn’t see anything, neither did you. Just - I mean, what the fuck were you thinking, giving your shit away for free, to him?!”
The man shrugs, “Had to call his bluff, innit? Thought he was a narc.”
“Well, you thought wrong, didn’t you,” Connor sneers, remaining sarcastic as ever. “Just… Clean up and get the fuck out of here, yeah? C’mon,” he gestures for Scott and Ralph, who’s already starting to bounce on the balls of his feet, to get out.
~~~
Once you finally see all three boys re-emerge from the bathroom, as you’d asked the other two to check on Ralph, you notice something off amongst them. Ralph seems in far higher spirits than the others. You get up to meet them halfway and notice something white and powder-y on the edge of Ralph’s nostril. “The fuck is that?!” You ask incredulously.
Scott looks over and quickly pulls his shirt sleeve down to wipe at Ralph’s nose with it. “Nothing!” He lilts, though his expression as he flashes his eyes at you confirms your worst fears about it. Scott mutters, “We need to get him to a hospital.”
“No!” You and Ralph chorus loudly. You shush the man and hurriedly lie, “No, you’ve not seem him in a hospital, he’s fucking useless, faints the second he gets in, he hates it all, honestly. Give him here, just - I’ll take him back to the house, I’ll keep an eye on him.”
“I promise you all, I am fine, I’ve done far more than that in my years!” Ralph states. “Can we please just return to our night?”
“Respectfully, mate, you don’t know what this shit’s been laced with,” Connor warns. “I’m with Scott, I think hospital’s the best place.”
“And I’m telling you, it really fucking isn’t,” you hiss back at them. “He just needs to get back home so he can’t make any more bad decisions.” Ralph frowns at your words, but you ignore him.
“Alright, we’ll pack up,” Scott starts, but you stop him.
“No, no.” You sigh, “Look, it’s still your holiday, too. I’ll take him back, I’ll keep you guys updated, but you lot just enjoy the night without us, okay?”
“We really don’t mind,” Connor shakes his head, but you persist.
“Honestly. Just…Hang on a second.” You return to the table, spinning a tale of how Ralph’s got a migraine and so you’re going to take him home as you put your outdoor clothes on. Everyone still at the table calls out well-wishes for Ralph as you make your way back to him, informing the boys of what you’ve said, and you lead Ralph out of the door into the brisk evening air.
You walk in silence, not knowing what to say. You’re concerned about Ralph, obviously, but you’re also just so mad at him for doing something so stupid. Who accepts some rando’s offer of coke off a random pub sink?! What the fuck was he thinking?! And now, everyone else is enjoying their holiday while you spend it the way you spend every single day - babysitting a 25 year old man who acts without consequence because he doesn’t bear them, you do. You may as well be at home with him.
“You know,” Ralph finally breaks the silence as you walk up the street that the house is on, “I’m not a child. I knew what I was doing.”
You sigh, “Free drugs is a massive red flag, Ralph. You could have gotten into some serious shit.”
“Well clearly not if we’re just going straight back to the house,” he points out.
“Okay, Ralph, what do you want me to say when we get to the hospital? ‘Hi, I’ve got a man here who needs drugs pumped out of his system. Name? Ralph Penbury. Date of birth? February 1st 1901. Oh, what’s that? You’ve got him marked as being dead for the last 96 years? Then what’s he doing stood here?!’” Ralph goes quiet up until you get to the front door, where you press your hands into your face and groan. “Ugh, I’m sorry, Ralph. I shouldn’t have snapped like that, that wasn’t fair. I know you can’t help… That bit. But you can say no to drugs, surely?!” More silence. With a sad sigh, you unlock the door and let Ralph go ahead. “Want me to make you a cup of tea?” You ask, and he nods before running up the stairs.
You kick yourself internally for upsetting Ralph before then arguing with yourself. Why should you be apologising? You were right. It’s your holiday, too, and he should have thought more carefully. You have every right to be upset, yourself. But you’ll forgive Ralph for that, the way you always do, because you already know you’re going to lose him at some point, and that’s going to be painful enough, and if you can put it off for as long as possible, you’re going to. 
He pads back into the kitchen in his pyjamas, looking at you with his big doe eyes as you hand him a hot mug full of tea. “It seems to be the ordinary stuff,” he states, “because it’s only just about affecting me. Same way it always does.”
“Did you… Do it often?” You ask slowly. “To cope with stuff?”
“Heavens, no, it’s no coping mechanism!” He shakes his head. “Cocaine’s always been a staple at Penbury socials. It’s… Acquiring and using it was always the thing people liked having me around for,” he explains quietly as he takes a big sip from his mug. “It barely affects me these days, just makes me… More likeable, I suppose.”
Of course there’s a dreadfully sad story to go along with this. Just more fuel for you to feel bad about snapping at him. You walk over to him and wrap your arms around his shoulders as he continues drinking. “You know how much we all like having you around the way you are, Ralph. I mean, we might be able to make a citizen out of you yet if we just claim you as Scott and his partner’s adopted child!” You joke, and Ralph lets out a small, breathy laugh. 
“It’s… Hard to believe, still. Sometimes. Sorry,” he mutters, leaning down to rest his head against yours.
“You have to trust us, Ralphie,” you squeeze him gently, “that’s part of having friends. You like having us around, right?” He nods violently. “Right! So part of making sure we stay around is knowing we want to. If you don’t trust that people wanna be your friend, they’re gonna assume you don’t want them to be.”
“Is that what Scott and Connor will think of me, now?” he asks sadly.
“Well no, because they don’t know… That, what you’ve just told me.”
Even more quietly, he asks, “…Do you -?”
“Are you really asking me if I want you around?” You ask, raising your eyebrows at him. “Have I not done enough to prove my case there?!”
“More than,” he admits, still quiet. He takes another long sip and asks, “Does the TV here have all the films that we would have back at home?”
“Wanna watch Little Shop of Horrors while you come down?” You ask, amused, as Ralph nods in response. You let him curl up to lay his head on your lap as you both watch the film from the sofa Connor’s been sleeping on, Ralph’s foot tapping against the arm of it along with each song.
The rest of the gang return just before the movie ends, and they’re all happy to see that Ralph looks in relatively good condition. The pair of you retire to the bed soon after. Too tired to change out of your day clothes, you simply crawl into your side and sleep, forgetting to wish Ralph goodnight in your exhaustion.
You all decide that Thursday shall be another day on the pier, with Friday being a packing-up day due to the night out you have planned, so that you don’t have to worry about packing with a hangover and can head back as soon as you’re feeling well enough to on Saturday.
You start the day out in the arcade again, firstly making sure that you, Anna, Grace, Scott and Connor get your annual photos in the booth as per every year for as long as you can remember. You show Ralph and the others photos you have on your phone of reels from years past, to which they take great delight in seeing you all in younger years. “It’s nice to have friends that last,” Ralph smiles, and it makes your heart sink. Comments like that help your brain to justify keeping Ralph around regardless. He needs to be here, with his friends, with the people he loves and who love him. There’s been no major consequence so far. You start to wonder if there ever would be.
You quickly pull yourself from that train of thought, instead opting for the certainty of being out with your friends. Grace pulls Ralph towards the dance mats, itching to teach him, and you allow yourself to stand back with Grace’s boyfriend to watch them. Ralph may stomp on each arrow with such force that the ground shakes beneath you, but there’s no way you can comment on that when his face is lit up that much.
You lose track of him when Connor pulls him away to show him a shooting game, instead opting to go for one of the coin-pushers yourself. It seems as though Ralph also didn’t last long with that particular game, nor does he have the patience to wait for your tactical plays as he starts grabbing coins from your pot and placing them in the slots from behind you excitedly. You giggle uncontrollably as he keeps putting coins in and smugly adding the occasional, “See?” when a whole pile drops.
It’s only when you feel your back collide against his chest that you’re brought back to your senses, and you tug at his arm until you’re standing beside him instead, trying to keep your tone playful with an, “Alright, then, if you wanna play that way, don’t let me stop you!” as you find another game that’s easy ticket fodder.
Eventually, you tell Ralph that it’s time for him to face his ultimate fear, that you’re all going to ride the Crazy Mouse roller coaster. He nods, still agreeing to go on it with you all, though he remains quiet. Once you’re in the line for it, you try and brush your hand against his again to let him know you’re there for him, but he makes no attempt to hold it. You hope it’s because he’s getting braver, but his stoic expression doesn’t exactly give you that impression.
Since today is warmer than the others, none of you had really decided to wear hats today, which makes the state you all end up in after being spun and thrown around the roller coaster track all the more hilarious. Ralph’s curls especially are in full force, sticking up in all directions, which the fans who recognise him today point out a lot. You notice there are more today than ever before and check his name on Twitter to see your suspicions confirmed - people are starting to publicly announce sightings of Ralph in the wild, which is leading to people congregating with the sheer hopes of seeing him out in the wild. You’re not sure how many more of these appearances you can take.
You return to the hook-a-duck stall so that Ralph can proudly show off Clarence to the man running the stall. A young man with a mullet pouts about how he was told that he wasn’t “allowed” to keep a duck, even though it matched the red beanie his friend is wearing even today. The man behind the stall simply explains that Ralph was more charming, to the hat-wearer’s amusement.
You go back to playing more games until the people working the arcade inform you that it’s nearly closing time. All of you band your tickets together and divide them fairly to redeem a prize each, though Ralph insists that he doesn’t get a share. He is more than happy with Clarence alone. If only you’d known sooner that the best way to placate Ralph would be to stick a hook in a rubber duck’s head.
Connor picks a box that contains fuzzy car dice, “for a laugh”. It certainly does raise a lot of laughs when he opens the box to find that the ones he’s ended up with are pink, but he shrugs it off. Scott and his partner pick out as many Pokémon cards as their tickets will allow them to, Grace gets a toy monkey with magnets in its hands and feet while her boyfriend picks out an inflatable guitar. Despite having already won a rather large teddy at the can game the other day, you take pity on another soft toy that clearly looks like it got into a fight with the manufacturer and came out losing, opting to take it home with you. Ralph looks at it fearfully, and you shake it at him jokingly.
Friday holds the weight of being the last full day away. Everything feels as though it's happening in slow motion, that it isn't in real time. It doesn’t entirely help that the day is filled with the mundane act of packing until the real thing to look forward to later tonight, which now feels eons away.
 When it finally reaches lunchtime, you talk the others into getting delivery. “Whatever happened to the ‘we should get out of the house, lazybones’ mentality, eh?” Connor teases.
“Do you feel up to being there while Ralph gets accosted by fans again?” you ask bluntly. “Besides, you should see Twitter today, it’s obsessive,” you pull a face of disgust as you scroll through posts to show your friends.
“These people need Jesus,” pipes up Grace’s boyfriend.
“You said it, babe,” Grace herself adds. “Surprised they haven’t realised he’s staying here and started camping out.” Scott tentatively looks out of the window, but nods in relief to confirm that nobody’s waiting out there.
You decide to make it the feast to end all feasts, each of you ordering food from different places and all sitting amongst your plethora of food to talk about your highlights of the whole trip, compare photos and overall just enjoy each others’ company. Even Ralph seems to perk up, which you’re glad about. He’d been pretty reserved all morning, which makes sense given how dull the day’s events have been, but you’re glad to see that there isn’t something else keeping him quiet.
Finally, the night is upon you. Everyone’s promised that they’ll all be on watch in case anyone tries to approach Ralph, either weird fanatic or potential danger, so that you can just switch off and enjoy your last night before returning to London.
You feel as though you may get to really enjoy it when you catch the attention of a man who’s far from unattractive. He keeps making eye contact with you from where he’s stood at the bar and flashing his eyes in invitation. After a few pep talks with the girls, who seem a little hesitant at first but soon warm to the idea of you having a night where you finally get to flirt and be flirted with, and just get to feel special for a night. And who knows, maybe that’ll be all it is. Maybe you won’t even spend your last night back at the house. After all, what’s a holiday for if not to live totally differently to how you would at home?
When you finally approach the bar, he smirks, “Look who finally made a decision!”
“Look who’s already blowing their shot!” you reply in the same lilted tone, making him laugh. You exchange names and he offers to buy you a drink. This is everything you’ve been needing to fill your confidence gauge - mostly banter, with the occasional ice-breaker question and the more than occasional compliment thrown your way. And honestly, the way he already matches your wit without you constantly needing to explain yourself, or reassure that you’re joking, just makes him even more attractive in the moment.
Ralph watches on from a distance, absolutely seething. Of course, you deserve to be happy. He knows that. He knows that you clearly wouldn’t be happy with him, and that’s why you’ve been keeping him at arm’s length, constantly putting the time travelling situation between you and him. But Ralph absolutely cannot stand to see it happening in front of his eyes. And so, with nothing stopping him, he marches over to you and taps your arm. “Hello!”
Not expecting any interruptions, you jolt, “Jesus, Ralph, you scared the shit out of me! Uh, yeah, this is Ralph, my - flatmate,” you explain.
“That’s right, we live together back at home as well as here!” Ralph beams falsely at the other man. “So, what are we talking about?”
The man laughs awkwardly under his breath as he shuffles in place and you say through gritted teeth, “Uh, Ralph, do you think maybe Connor wants to talk to you?”
“Oh, heavens, no, he’s got a pair of young women on the go himself, the dog!” Ralph scoffs.
“Seems as though two is an awful lot of people for just one of him to manage. Think you could take one off his hands?” you ask, again trying to make it very obvious that you want him to leave.
He doesn’t seem to be taking the hint, though. “Oh, I’d only interrupt them!”
“How terrible that would be.” You deadpan, before addressing the man you’d been talking to. “I’m so sorry, I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll be here,” he tips his glass to you. “Don’t forget, it’s your turn to buy the next round!”
You shoot him a flirtatious smile and grab Ralph’s wrist to tug him away. “Listen, Ralph, mate, I think maybe… You should spend tonight more around one of the others, than with me. Yeah?”
“But what if I slip up and mention something about… The situation at hand?” he asks, gesturing at himself.
You tut exasperatedly, “I dunno, then maybe… Just really try not to bring it up? It’s not that hard, you haven’t done it yet. I just… I really needed this, Ralph. Please?”
“Are you going to leave me in the bed alone tonight?” he asks quietly. Sadly.
You sigh. “I dunno. Maybe? We’re all adults here, Ralph, you’ve spent long enough being able to sleep in my bed by yourself, I’m sure someone else’s won’t be too different.” You find Grace, who’s with her boyfriend and Anna, and park Ralph with all of them before returning to your date for the evening.
Ralph’s only half-listening to whatever everyone else is talking about. His attention is laser-focused on that man. His hair is the same colour as Ralph’s, and it’s curly just like his, but there’s more of it. His eyes are the same colour as Ralph’s, but they’re obscured with glasses. He’s taller than Ralph, and he makes you laugh more than Ralph does, and if the cup he’s holding was made of anything other than glass, Ralph would have certainly squeezed it out of shape by now, if not broken it entirely.
While the girls take a momentary bathroom break, Grace’s boyfriend nudges Ralph. “You alright, mate? You look like the nerves are taking over. Wanna do a couple shots with me? It’ll take the edge off.”
Ralph agrees, hoping that perhaps the blanket of numbness over his brain that only alcohol causes will keep it quiet. Grace’s boyfriend has already paid for the shots when Ralph looks at them in horror. The last time he saw a shot glass filled with clear liquid, it resulted in all kinds of emotions. Still, perhaps it’s another clear spirit. Perhaps it won’t make Ralph feel the way he did that night.
Or maybe this is also vodka, and once both the shots that Ralph takes hit, perhaps he’s on his way back over to you. “Hello, again!”
You look at your date with resignation. He looks back at you with sympathy. It’s him who regards the new third wheel in the conversation, “Alright, mate? Ralph, isn’t it? How you doing?”
Ralph pays him no attention at all. “I fear I have once again gotten myself into a predicament,” he tells you.
“You’re a big boy, I’m sure you can get yourself out of it,” you flash warning eyes at Ralph to get back to literally anyone else.
He shakes his head, “No, no, it’s, um. It’s something you had explained to me. What are the different drinks that make me feel different things, again?”
You hold your hand to your head. “Ralph, mate… Do you feel as if something’s been put in your drink, or��?”
“I’m not sure what that would feel like,” he frowns, “but you know these things better than I do!”
“Here, look,” the man you’d been talking to stands up straight. So tall. “This has been great. Really great. But I think your flatmate needs you tonight, so… I’ll see you around, yeah?”
You shake your head dejectedly. “We literally go back to London first thing in the morning.”
He frowns at you sympathetically. “You’ve got a phone though, right?” You take it out to find that it’s out of battery.
You curse internally, “Knew there was something I forgot to do tonight. I’m so sorry.”
“Well. Perhaps in another time. It was lovely meeting you.” He looks Ralph up and down with a slight look of jealous defeat. “You too, mate,” he adds to Ralph through gritted teeth before stroking your arm once more, letting it linger for as long as possible until he walks away.
Something in you finally snaps. Every part of you is just… So done with Ralph right now. And he has the audacity to perk up again once it’s just the two of you?! “What the fuck was that about, Ralph?!”
“Well, I was just going to say that Grace’s… Gentleman friend had bought me some of those shots and I think they’re the sort that have the effect on me that you remember better than I,” Ralph explains with a slight shrug.
You shake your head. “Nah, nah, there’s more to it than that. I made it very clear that I was hitting it off with him, and I just wanted a night where I could -” You cut yourself off, but Ralph feels the tension, soaking it in himself.
“Oh, go on and get it over with, won’t you?” Ralph asks, once again playing the sad card. “It’s obvious there’s things you want to say to me, just say them to my face, please.”
“Okay, you know that’s not fair when you pull that shit, because then it makes me feel bad when I am allowed to be pissed off at you!” you snap. “You want me to say it to your face?! Alright, how’s about this, then. Having you at my ankles 24/7 is fucking exhausting, Ralph. I can’t even go on one night out and talk to one person that isn’t you, I - I didn’t sign up to be some random guy’s mother -”
“I do not see you like I would Mother!” Ralph defends, offence very obvious in his expression.
“Then why am I the one always cooking for you, always cleaning for you, always fucking working overtime because I’m paying for your bills and your food and your clothes -”
“Because, as you keep telling me, I’m not a real person here!” Ralph hisses through his teeth.
“It’s not just that, though, it’s the attitude that comes with it. You are so used to your little rich boy life that you don’t see how much I’m going through. My back is in constant fucking agony from months on that godawful sofa. I don’t get a single day off to myself anymore. I mean, fuck, you’ve had more dates than I have since you got here! I supported you putting yourself out there, even though it was one of the stupidest risks you could have taken -”
“Well, it’s a good job that didn’t work out then, isn’t it? Because once again, nobody wants anything to do with Ral-”
“Here it is again. I can’t just feel something, you have to also be feeling it twice as hard so that you’re the focus here, I - I can’t have anything for myself anymore!” you shout exasperatedly. “Not even one night where for once, I get to feel wanted. I - y’know, everyone fucking falls at their feet for you, you’ve even had people ask you out while we’re here! And nothing was stopping you if you wanted to! But the moment I want to indulge in the idea that maybe someone out there would show an interest in me -”
Ralph scoffs, “That man was only interested in one thing to do with you, and it’s much too vulgar. You deserve to be courted in the appropriate -”
“We’re not in the 1920s anymore, Ralph!” You press your fingers to your temples. “It’s not a bad thing for someone to just… Want you like that. And even then, let’s hash this out. Let’s say I could have been courted by him. You think someone like that is gonna think I’m worth sticking around for when I’ve got another man constantly in my shadow, fighting for my attention? I mean, fuck, what are you gonna do without me when you go back, eh?”
“Ah, again with the going home!” Ralph’s voice is audibly slurring by now. “It’s all you ever want to talk about with me, just tell me the truth already, it’ll hurt less. Tell me you can’t wait to be rid of me.”
“For fuck’s sake, Ralph, I don’t want you gone! Far fucking from it! But I’m not gonna mess with shit we know nothing about, and putting everything back where it was is logically the best thing to do.”
Ralph looks on the verge of crying. “So, that’s it, then. I’m not even worth a -one, I’m just a -thing now.”
“No, that’s not -” You take a deep breath. “Look. We’re going off on tangents that don’t even make fucking sense now. I’m going back to the house. To the bed, don’t worry your fragile little head, I’m not gonna go stand on a street corner like the harlot I am,” you pull a face, blinking back your own tears. “Thank you for ruining the one week a year I actually look forward to.”
You storm away from Ralph, though you find most of the group congregated together at the bar. You stop by them to explain that you and Ralph got into a fight, that you don’t want to talk about it but could they please just make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. They promise that they will, and so you head out of the bar, straight into one of the parked taxis and finally let yourself cry as it drives you back to the house.
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spookyscarydemonbabe · 2 years ago
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🖤Request Rules🖤
Hello! I’ve decided to write a list of rules for those of you who would like to request a fic or HCs from me 🥰
At the moment my ask box is [CLOSED]
I strictly do x reader fics and HCs
I try to stick with doing fluff and smut on this page, the only times i’ll ever do angst is when i decide to write a fic or HCs with some hurt/comfort in it
Please try to keep your requests as simple as possible, that way it’s easier for me to come up with a storyline for it instead of having to try and stick to an insanely specific request
(but seriously, with some of the specific requests i’ve gotten on my old blog you guys should really consider writing, they were all very descriptive and i’d definitely read them!)
At the moment i’m not super comfortable writing smut fics but i will gladly do smut HCs!
I prefer to write fics that don’t have much to do with the actual plot of the show, i don’t want to have to constantly look back at an episode to make sure it’s perfect 😅
I will only write for Eddie, Gareth, (platonic) Corroded Coffin, Ralph from Timewasters, and Buggy the Clown at the moment, however in the future i may add more characters to write for
I will absolutely not do any requests that have to do with anything racist, homophobic, transphobic, etc. though i figured that would be pretty obvious
Unfortunately, due to myself being afab, i will not do any x male reader fics, though i do try to make them as gender neutral as i can
If you’d like to request anonymously that’s completely fine by me!
If there’s a specific emoji you’d like to request as please let me know! At the moment i have [✨] taken
I will not accept any requests that have the reader with an insanely specific trait or physical feature, i want to make them as general as possible :)
I will not be writing anything that has to do with pregnancy or children/reader being a parent just due to my personal fear of it, though i will gladly do dad! requests
I will not write anything that has to do with poly relationships, i strictly write monogamous fics and HCs only
When i write i like to try and keep things very true to the source, so i don’t like to do any type of modern writing for any of them, i want to keep things true to their specific universes
I will continue to add more rules if need be
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Writing Update
Hi y’all, so I am a bit slow when it comes to writing but I have two one-shots that I’m working on that is related to Joseph Quinn.
Here is a snippet from the Eddie Munson x reader
Dustin and you are almost complete opposites even though you’re siblings. You love rock and metal, he loves disco, you tend to be more introverted, and he’s more extroverted, but your love for movies and fantasy was what got you guys to bond. You introduced him and his friends to Dungeons and Dragons, Star Wars, and even Star Trek, and they took to it and loved it. 
When Dustin entered high school, he found his way into the local D&D club, Hellfire. You always wanted to join the club but were always too shy to try to talk to Eddie Munson, the leader of the club. He was loud and exuberant, always having a monologue prepared for the week. The club was only ever comprised of guys as well and didn’t want to make things awkward for whatever dynamic is going on there. However, Dustin didn’t notice or just didn’t care.
You and Dustin shared a lunch period and would always wave hi to him, to let him know you weren’t ignoring him. You did it this time as well when you spotted him but this time he waved you down to come to the table.
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Dustin knew his sister was smart, like serious smart but (Y/N) was never outspoken and her grades got deducted for lack of participation, something he knew because of her complaining. He’s hoping though that she could help his team’s dilemma for Eddie’s game at the end of the week.
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The other work is Ralph from Timewasters because I am a sucker for dorky characters and Joseph Quinn was adorable as Ralph.
Here is a short snippet from that wip:
“You love the music, and the drinks that you have, but the people can be a bit too much in a jazz club. However, you love a good love song no matter how cliche that comes across. You were pulled into a party where you didn’t really know the hosts but your friend, who insisted you come with them.
While you were there though you learned the hosts were Victoria and Ralph, more so Victoria though as you watched her chatter to various people. Ralph seemed more reserved than his twin, as you also learned from your friend, as you did your people-watching while listening to the jazz band, you started to notice that Ralph constantly got your attention.
He seemed cute and you doubt he was as obnoxious as Victoria is with how throughout the hour you’ve been here every minute seemed to be filled with her shrill voice in the background.
You turned away from your side of the bar that you found yourself grounded to and looked to see if there was a table you can sit at.“
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Thank you all for your patience and I hope you like what I have next but I’m honestly not sure if people want a Ralph x reader?? idk but also I don’t know when I’m going to finish either of these but hopefully one of these will be done by the end of the week :)
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ko-fanatic · 4 years ago
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Blood, Guts and Chocolate Cake
Rating: Mature
Fandom: Danganronpa
Pairings: IshiMondo
Summary:
Mondo Owada, the Ultimate Bodyguard, is entering a four year contract with one Kiyotaka Ishimaru, the Ultimate Idol. It makes sense, two Ultimates put together for their high school careers, and he could use the steady pay check to send home to Daiya; those medical bills were a bitch, and it was his fault the accident happened in the first place.
It was supposed to be easy, guard the cutesy, clean-cut idol from perverts and stalkers, no big deal! However, the world's perception of Kiyotaka Ishimaru was far different than what the young idol had become. During the first few months before even stepping into Hope's Peak, he's more worried for the young boy than he's ever been for anyone before.
TW: Alcohol, and eating disorders (both restrictive behaviours and B/P), mentions of disability, underage sex/sexualisation, drugs
The hallways of this damn building were too long.
That was definitely the first impression Mondo got, being led down said monotonous hallways by a young woman with an expression which implied that she simply wasn’t paid enough to care about small talk. Not that he had any room to judge, hands shoved in his pockets and a permanent scowl on his face. He might’ve been going to review an upcoming contract, but the best thing about his position was that there was no need to be all smiley; Hope Peak’s choice for Ultimate Bodyguard was all the credentials he needed at this point. 
Still, he couldn’t help but feel a bit intimidated by how long he would be working with these record label types. He couldn’t deny it made sense - hire the Ultimate Bodyguard to protect the Ultimate Idol, sound logic; it was just that a four year contract was… a lot. That wasn’t even thinking about the fact he was going to be glued to the guy’s hip for all that time, having to get along no matter what. Would he even have time to make friends of his own? Doubtful. Still, a paycheck was a paycheck, and he’d have to go to some highschool anyway, so kill two birds with one stone. 
He’d never had an issue smiling through vapid celebrity bullshit before. It was going to be an easy ride, too; from what he knew, the guy was as prim and proper as they came. Real boy next door image. Easy to take care of, and mainly just telling overzealous fans to back the fuck up. Simple. 
His inner monologue was broken by an abrupt stop, the woman only sending a bored glance his way before knocking. The door was pushed ajar with the quiet muttering of “Mondo Owada to see you, gentlemen”, before he was unceremoniously shepherded into the room. 
It was just as big as you’d expect from a building like this, with a gargantuan desk and several business-types sitting across from him. They were even backlit by a floor-to-ceiling window showing Tokyo in all its glory - like some cheesy ass movie. Still, taking a cursory glance around the room, he couldn’t see anyone fitting the description of “teen idol”, let alone Ishimaru himself...
“Owada-san, good afternoon!” One of the men greeted cheerfully, clasping his hand in one of those firm yet professional grips he’d gotten used to since rising up in his career, “My name is Shiro Kamei, and these gentlemen are Kenshin Aki and Yutaka Hayashida. We’re Kiyotaka Ishimaru-san’s managers.”
“Well, that answers one question,” He shrugged, not sugarcoating his words, but not being as rude as he certainly could be, “But I don’t see Ishimaru-san around. If I’m meeting with anyone, I personally think it should be with the guy I’m gonna be with 24/7, for the next four years.”
“Of course!” Kamei-san chirped, far too cheerful for his taste, especially considering the stench of ass-kissing that followed it. Not sincere, but too many meetings like this one had trained him to swallow down the vomit that threatened to spew from the fakeness of it all. 
“Ishimaru-san will be here soon,” Hyashida-san intoned, temperament a bit more palatable than Mr Chipper, “He’s a rather busy young man, being an idol of his caliber. Dance practice is just wrapping up, any minute now, so we can use this time to have a little chat - go through expectations for your role and such.”
Mondo managed to stop himself raising an eyebrow at that. Like he wasn’t the best bodyguard in Japan. He guessed it was something needed for a job of this sort, not temping or whatever, and so he settled down for a bunch of timewasting jabber. 
Or, it was, until a certain request caught his attention.
“We also expect him to be kept out of, well… trouble…”
“Thought he was a cutesy, innocent kid?” He frowned, sitting a little straighter in his seat, attention piqued, “I’m guessing he’s the kind to get mouth-breathers and creeps, huh?”
The three men looked a little more caged at that remark. A couple cleared throats, a few tugged collars and cuffs, awkward air. 
“Yes, there have been incidents, but nothing previous security couldn’t handle,” Aki-san informed, “The issue is a recent change in attitude. Nothing much, but tugging on the leash more than necessary, if you understand my meaning.”
He did. Part of him wanted to object to the idea that a sixteen year old needed to be kept on a leash at all, but idol shit was full of PR. 
“So boy next door is going through a little rebellion, and you want me to make sure it stays on the DL,” He shrugged, “Got it.”
“I wouldn’t put it like that, Owada-san -!”
Kamei-san was interrupted by several short, sharp raps, door opening to reveal the man of the hour. 
Ishimaru was pretty, no denying that. His eyes were what really caught everyone’s attention; bright, wide and doll-like. That said nothing about his facial structure - cheekbones and jawline and everything prominent - or his barbie doll-esque frame. He was probably one of the slimmest people Mondo had ever seen, at least in person. Well, and outside of a hospital. The media went absolutely gaga over his thigh gap, his lithe abs and delicate hip bones. 
He personally prefers a little more meat on the bones, a little less fragile, but he guessed it was an idol’s job to appeal to the masses. 
“Good morning, everybody!” He beams, but honestly? The sunshine emanating from him is a lot warmer - a lot more real - than Kamei-san. He actually had to take a second to come back to himself, knocked off equilibrium. The power of the Ultimate Idol, for you. 
“Kiyotaka, this is Mon -”
“Mondo Owada,” He cuts in, wanting to introduce himself, cut the preamble, and offers his hand to shake, “‘M gonna be the one guarding you.”
Ishimaru gives him a once over, and for two seconds he thinks he sees a smirk pull at the corner of the young man’s lips, but he soon brushes it off as a trick of the light. 
“Thank you so much for accepting our proposition, Owada-san!” He grins, and Mondo hates his little bi heart at that moment. Ishimaru clasps his hand. He can’t help but feel that they’re too calloused for a pretty boy idol, but he doesn’t dwell on it, “I hope we get along well!”
He’s loud, but the words are sweet, and Mondo relaxes a little bit. Easy job, as he thought. 
---
Mondo was proven wrong in a matter of three days into his contract. He’d certainly been proven wrong far quicker than that before; however, in terms of sheer what-the-fuckery-is-this, this situation took the cake. 
The train journey to the first tour destination wasn’t bad, if tedious. Kid spent all his time reading, and Mondo had no clue how he didn’t puke all over the place from staring at the pages. He’d looked at his phone for about five minutes and was ready to lie down and accept his death. 
… Trains were not his prefered method of transportation…
Ishimaru had passed on the sandwiches on offer, but so did Mondo. No big deal. Those things sucked ass, and maybe the kid was more nauseous than he seemed. Wish that was him, considering he was pretty sure his face was pale green. 
Settling into the hotel was fine, as was the tech set up in the venue. Stress emanating off everyone, but pretty normal as far as that shit was concerned. Ishimaru was dragged between costume fittings, tech run throughs and other things that just passed in a blur. 
No, what really proved to Mondo that the pretty boy idol was going through an actual rebellious phase, was what he walked in on at 11:56pm, night three. 
He’d gotten up due to a serious inability to sleep. Seriously, did he manage to get jet lag without even switching time zones? Nah, didn’t work like that. Maybe it was second hand adrenaline from the performance being tomorrow. Ishimaru might not make his kind of music, but the guy had this infectious enthusiasm for it all. He’d be backstage, too; premo location to see everything up close. He couldn’t help the slight smile on his face, in spite of how tired he felt. 
Any fleeting, fuzzy feelings disappeared, however, when he walked into the main area of their hotel suite. 
There stood Ishimaru, back to him, very much not dressed for bed. His jeans were so tight they looked spray painted on, not to mention the sequined top that cut off to show a tantalising flash of milky pale skin.
“Where’re you off to?” 
His question seemed to startle the kid, who practically jumped three feet in the air, hand clutching his chest as he whirled on him. 
“Fuck, what’s your problem?” He gasped out. Mondo couldn’t help but let his eyes widen, having not heard the boy swear since they met. Admittedly, it was only a few days, but Ishimaru just gave off such an innocent vibe. He’d questioned if the boy even knew a swear word for a while. 
“The guy I’m meant to protect is running off into the city at midnight, and obviously didn’t plan to tell me,” He answered bluntly, “So, come on, where’re you trying to slink off to?”
“None of your business,” He sniffed, shoulders squaring, “And stop… talking to me like that. Like I’m a child. It’s annoying as shit.” 
“Alright, sor-ry, jeez,” He apologised, hands up in surrender, “Let me just grab my coat and -”
“No!” Ishimaru ground out, “I’m going out, you're staying here, and my managers are none the wiser, got it?”
Oh, that sneaky fucker. While Mondo was all for personal freedom, no way was the scrawny kid going out there to get attacked and murdered in some urine soaked alleyway. For one, it’d completely fuck up his plans for the next four years - no money to send back to Daiya, and he seriously doubted Hope’s Peak would want an Ultimate Bodyguard who let the world’s most popular idol get murdered in a matter of days. 
“Yeah, no, not happening, kid,” He shut down, reaching over the boy to get his coat, only for hands to press against his chest, stopping him. 
“What do you want then? Money?” Ishimaru asked, looking up at him through his lashes. Fuck, the kid really went all out with the makeup; smokey eyeshadow and liner, glossed lips, the whole deal, “Or I can suck your dick?”
He nearly choked at that, face hot as hell and probably an embarrassing shade of red. “N-No! What the fuck?!” He yelled, only earning a shrug in response. 
“Look, I need to go out - alone,” Ishimaru began again, arguing a point Mondo simply wasn’t going to agree with, “I need to get a little fucked up, railed into some guy’s mattress, and then I’ll come back. I’ll be here again before sunrise.”
“Tugging on the leash more than necessary”, his ass! 
“Sorry, you're talking to the wrong guy,” He dismissed, doing his best impression of Daiya’s you done fucked up voice he could, “Back to bed. Don’t think you’re sneaking out, either. I’m just gonna stay out here all night, make sure you don’t go and get yourself cut up and dumped in the river. Y’know, my job.”
“Fuck you,” Ishimaru spat, storming back to his room with a mutter of ,“Asshole…”
If Mondo knew one thing, it was this… He’d really had no idea what he was signing himself up for.
---
A/N:
WOW, it's been a while since I've written for this fandom. Thank you Taka and Mondo for being an adorable pair of dumbasses and dragging me right back into DR. Hopefully, I'll add to my old fics too, but I've got lots of new ideas I want to play with (Including two other talentswaps and two AUs!)
For now, Ouran fics are on the back burner, I'm afraid. I'm sure I'll be back to them soon enough, but I'm a bit burnt out in my OHSHC obsession, so we'll see.
Also, as always, comments really help and if you want to take any of these concepts and run, go for it! All I ask is a credit and a link if possible! :)
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itsallwearecalledtodo · 3 years ago
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death to productivity! let timewasting prevail!! whats the best dream and the worst nightmare you remember having
Best dream for sure was this dream I had in the fifth grade where I was in Narnia and I was a fairy and I could fly around it was so magical. I’m sure I’ve had worse nightmares, but when I was REALLY little (like 3 or 4 years old), I had a nightmare where the bathroom at my church turned into a never-ending half pipe, with people roller skating down it forever. Idk why it freaked me out so much.
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illfoandillfie · 5 years ago
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DMs
Pairing: Ben Hardy x F!Reader
Summery: You run a nsfw snapchat account. Ben's horny.
Warnings: SMUT (18+), partially written as chat text, video chat sex, masturbation, fingering, sex toys, nipple play, voyeurism I guess, fuckboy ben
Words: 3774
A/N: Inspired by something El posted. I love Ben but he’s got them fuckboy/lad vibes and im positive he’d get down on some sc porn
Tumblr media
Taglist:  @laedymoon​  @dtfrogertaylor​   @ezmina98​  @vee-ndetta​ @atomic-watermelon​ @kellypenac​ @labessieisallama​ @deakyclicks​ @jennyggggrrr​ @drowseoftaylor​  @hannafuckingsucks​  @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming​ @queenmylovely​
@veriloquently​
Your phone buzzed, the familiar noise distracting you from your book. Considering you’d just posted a new photo, partially hidden by emojis, to Instagram and updated your snapchat story with the uncensored version, it was hardly surprising you were getting messages.
YourNewDaddy: Mmm baby let me pound you
You clicked through to his profile. Absolutely nothing. The profile picture was some abs that could belong to anyone. No recent snaps, nothing. For a few seconds you considered replying with your payment details but decided against it. He wasn’t worth your time.  
The whole NSFW account thing had started a while ago on Tumblr and then Instagram. A way to kill time and get some attention that you weren’t receiving in the real world. But then the porn ban had happened which severely limited what you could post, so you’d mostly moved to Snapchat, using everything else to advertise. A few months after the move you started getting guys offering to pay you to do specific things. One had wanted an audio recording of you calling him Daddy and begging for his cock with a few moans thrown in. Another had wanted a video of you and a dildo, though he’d had to pay more. Since then you’d used your accounts to pick up a bit of extra cash here and there. Nowhere near enough to live off of, but it came in handy.
You clicked back out of the app, put down your phone and went back to your book, hoping someone entertaining would at least comment on the photo soon. Barely half a page later another ding pulled you away. This time Instagram.  
Benhardy: Just came over you
Quick and to the point. Fuckboy energy. You clicked onto his profile half expecting another faceless timewaster. No description or links to other sites but he had a profile picture. And some fifty odd photos. Not many posts considering his million followers but at least you knew he was a real person. You scrolled through his feed trying to put gather what info you could before you responded. Lots of photos of himself sometimes with friends. A few that were clearly modelling jobs or, more likely considering the movie trailers and saved story called Oscars 2019, promotional photoshoots for magazines. And he was a proud dog dad. Definitely attractive. You wondered briefly why someone so handsome was getting off to half dressed girls on Instagram but put it out of your mind as you opened his conversation up again. Who cared why as long as he was talking to you? After all, he was hot and willingly giving you attention. Plus, if he was an actor or whatever he probably wouldn’t mind paying for something special, once you’d given him a taste. The only question left was how to approach the conversation.  
You: Really? That’s so flattering!
You: Kind of wish you’d cum over me for real tho, bit bored
Benhardy: dirty girl
Benhardy: could probably think of some way to keep you busy
Benhardy: you’re fit
You: haha aww thank you! I post more often on snap if you wanna follow. don’t have to hide behind swimwear and emojis there. easier to chat too, unless you prefer kik or something
He didn’t reply. You frowned at your phone wondering if you’d shown your hand too soon. Perhaps you should have kept up the flattered damsel act a little longer, waited before mentioning Snapchat. Maybe he wasn’t looking for a chat, just genuinely wanted to compliment you, even if it was in a gross slightly derogatory way. Or maybe he just got cold feet. You sighed as you swiped back to check what other people had been sending you. A few more ignorable accounts, a couple messages you didn’t like enough to respond to straight away. And then another Snapchat notification.  
Ben Jones: had to create an account but I’m here
You: oh! you’ve changed your name
Ben Jones: Hardy’s the stage name lol
You: hmmm hardy… little bit of a pornstar name
You: or could be if you changed the ben part.
Ben Jones: that’s my backup plan in case actual acting doesn’t work out lol
Ben Jones: not too out of place right now tho
You: haha that because of me?
Ben Jones: maybe. loved the photos in your story you’ve got great tits
Ben Jones: kinda wanna see you pinch and pull on them
And so it began. You leaned forward to pull your shirt off and then settled back against the pillows, running your fingers around your nipple until it was hard. Angling the camera towards your chest you pinched your nipple between your thumb and forefinger, rolling it between them. The camera clicked as you took a photo and then clicked again as you tugged your nipple away from your body, hissing a little at the pain.
You: Like this?
Ben Jones: perfect
Ben Jones: really are lovely tits.
You: surprisingly don’t hear that much irl so ty
Ben Jones: u don’t? criminal
You: lmao yeah but that’s what I have you for
Ben Jones: happy to help
Ben Jones: What are you wearing?
You: Just a pair of knickers now
Ben Jones: sexy
Ben Jones: can I see?
You: just the knickers or the whole look?
Ben Jones: whole look first
Ben Jones: then just the knickers so I can see the wet spot you’re making
You wriggled against the pillows, shuffling further down the bed. Long ago you’d learnt which angles were the easiest to take photos in and which were the best to show off your body. A full body shot was easiest when you leaned your phone up against a stack of books or something at the foot of the bed and used the timer on the camera to get a few shots of you kneeling. It left your hands fee to squeeze your tits if that seemed appropriate or slip into your underwear, or to put behind your back in a pose that seemed innocent but actually pushed your hips and chest forward. For Ben though you felt something that appeared a little more casual would be appropriate. You lay back, head raised slightly on your pillows, feel flat against the mattress so your knees were in the air and pressed together. Carefully you positioned the camera, wrist twisted a little to get the angle just right. You brought your free hand up to your breasts, pulling your nipple again since Ben seemed to like it, and snapped a photo. The shot of your underwear was easier, legs spread, pushing your hips up slightly to get a clear shot of the wet patch that had been slowly growing since the start of the conversation, though a little added saliva to make it more obvious didn’t hurt. He wouldn’t be able to tell.  
Ben Jones: hot
Ben Jones: like got me so hard again hot
You: does that mean I get a picture in return?
Ben Jones: Only if you take your knickers off for me
Ben Jones: wouldn’t be fair otherwise since im not wearing underwear😉  
You took your time sending him a new photo and got one back almost straight away. You would have scoffed at his eagerness to show himself off but, with a body like his you couldn’t really blame him. You zoomed into the photo, trailing your eyes over every inch of it. Messy blonde hair, though whether it was intentionally messy or just like that from him grabbing it while he jerked off over your photo you weren’t sure. Gorgeous eyes, heavy lidded and a little fucked out. One arm behind his head as he lay on his bed. It looked carefree and spontaneous, like someone else had taken the photo at the very moment he looked at the camera, but it showed off the muscles in his arms too well to be coincidence. And speaking of muscles. The boy was a fucking Adonis. You were instantly struck by the desire to drag your nails down his chest and leave a trail of hickeys and bite marks all the way down to his toned stomach and tight waist. You clenched your thighs together at the thought as you slowly revealed the bottom half of the photo. He had his legs outstretched though one was more bent than the other, knee jutting out to the side. Almost too casual to be casual, especially with the way he had his hand wrapped around his cock, like the photo was taken mid stroke. You couldn’t help linger over that particular part of the photo. It was a lovely hand, big with noticeable veins, exactly the sort that could make you weak in the knees. And the same could be said for the dick it was holding. You wondered briefly where this Ben guy had come from and what you could possibly have done to catch his attention.  
Ben Jones: is that silence because you’re so impressed
The message made you roll your eyes. Hot he might be, but he was still just another desperate fuckboy looking for a naked girl to drool over and a quick orgasm.  
You: well I’m not not impressed
Ben Jones: no need to be shy. just say you’re imagining riding me and I'd understand
You: wasn’t before. Am now.
Ben Jones: what were you picturing before?
You: doggy
Ben Jones: be happy to let you try both and compare.
You: let me film it and watch the tapes back to study your game?
Ben Jones: wait this is dumb.
Your frowned at your phone. For such typical guy, the sort you’d dealt with so many times before, Ben sure was hard to pin down.  
You: what?
Ben Jones: you comfortable doing live chat?
Ohhhh
You: umm sure thing
Ben Jones: you don’t have to
You: i know that. you couldn’t force me to even if you wanted, beauty of doing this online. i just don’t do live very often. or I charge for it.
Ben Jones: that desperate for me?
You: you caught me in a good mood
You let the call ring for a bit, wanting to make sure Ben understood how in control you were and how much more he needed it than you. But eventually you picked up, settling back against your pillows. Ben seemed to be in a similar position, leaning against his headboard, the screen showing you his face and bare shoulders. “Hi,” “Hi,” his voice was deeper than you’d expected, thrown by how soft and, dare you say, feminine his features were, and yet it suited him perfectly. You could only imagine how that voice would sound growling out sexually charged complements, the thought appealing enough to have you pressing your thighs together. There was a moment of silence as you took each other in, not quite sure how to continue now that you’d switched from text. �� “So you going to show me how wet you are?” Once again his demeanour had you wanting to roll your eyes though you refrained, “No.” “No?” His confusion was entertaining to say the least. So many of the men who contacted you assumed you were going to be outright submissive and meek, taking whatever photos they demanded and doing everything they told you to with a smile and a yes sir. So proving them wrong, defying them, taking control, that was fun. Almost an aphrodisiac in its own right. Sometimes you’d eventually submit, play the brat and then let them win, and if they were paying it was a different story. But Ben struck you as the kind of guy who could use a little more pushback. Probably used to getting his way, having his pick of the litter. Lord knows had he hit on you in real life you probably would have agreed to whatever he wanted just to feel his hands on you. But here, on your profile, you had the power. Plus, in the back of your mind you suspected that being a little more assertive might just make him more interested in seeing you submit and maybe a little more willing to pay for the pleasure.   “Not yet.” “Bit of a bold move considering I could just go find someone else to look at. There’re these things called porn sites, yeah?” “But they’re so impersonal. Isn’t this more fun?” He paused, eyeing you, and then let out a breath, “You got me there.” “Figured, since the video chat was your idea and all.” “Just got sick of typing one handed.” “Mmhmm, sure.” “So are you going to show me your cunt then?” “Eventually. But what’s the rush?” you stood up, making sure to let the camera dip just a little so Ben got a quick flash of your chest. “How about I’m hard as hell and want to get off?” “You’re not the only one who wants to get off so just hold your horses for a second while I get my toys.” “There are toys now?” You could see Ben’s shoulder move as he started to stroke himself again. “Told you to hold your horses. Stop touching yourself.” Ben’s arm stopped its movement though he seemed a little taken aback by his own obedience. “Good boy,” you watched for Ben’s reaction, not disappointed as he swallowed hard, his cheeks going pinker than they already were. That was interesting. “Yes there are toys, you wanna see?” “Do I get to pick which ones you use?” “Maybe,” “Go on, show me then,” You flipped the camera around as you opened your chest of draws. There wasn’t much in there, a couple different dildos and vibrators, a set of nipple suckers, mostly things you’d bought to fulfil requests guys were paying you for. You picked up the nipple suckers and held them up to the camera. “I assume you’d like to see me in these since you liked watching me play with my nipples.” “Mmhmm, absolutely. Also want to see you with a dildo. You got one with a suction base? Might tell you to ride it the way you’d ride me,” he seemed to be doubling down on the pull for control after you’d seen his reaction to being told what to do, determined to put you in your place or whatever. “Unfortunately, no. But this one will do,” you took hold of a silicon dildo, pulling it from the draw, “Don’t think it's as big as you but it does vibrate and that’s guaranteed to work.” “I’ll allow it, though I think we both know I’d be better.” “I’m going to ignore that,” you said as you turned the camera back towards you and headed back to your bed, settling against the pillows again. You propped the camera up against a pillow so Ben could watch as you placed the suckers over your nipples, whimpering at the sudden taught feeling. You picked the phone back up, giving Ben a closer view of your boobs. “They suit you. And you can ignore it all you like but when you start doing what I say and I let you fuck yourself into your third orgasm I’ll remind you. Maybe, if you’re lucky, I’ll tell you where you can meet me in real life and show you exactly how good I am.” “You’re a cocky one, aren’t you?”   “In every sense. If I remember correctly you were speechless at the sight.” “You’ve got a bad memory, Benny boy.” Slowly you let your fingers trail down to your pussy. You didn’t believe he was as good as he thought he was – you’d dealt with too many overconfident wankers, both in real life and online, to believe another one – but the game you’d fallen into, the back and forth teasing, not entirely sure who was in control at any one time, was arousing to say the least. It was certainly one of the less predictable conversations you’d had recently.   “If not speechless then certainly wet. Show me your pussy, wanna see you touching yourself.”” “Who said I’m touching myself?” you slipped a finger into your entrance, trying to keep your breathing even.” “You’re not as good at hiding it as you think you are. So show me.” “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” Ben gave you a fleeting look, eyebrow raised, before his camera flipped and you were once again looking at his hand wrapped around his cock, red and leaking precum. You turned your camera too, making sure he had a good view. “Add a second finger for me.” You did as he asked, “You been a good boy and not touched? Or do I have to tell you off for misbehaving?” “I didn’t but it wasn’t because of anything you said. Just didn’t want things to finish before I heard you beg me to cum.” He began to stroke himself, keeping in time with the slow pace you’d set as you pumped your fingers in and out of your pussy. “Sure,” you panted, adding a third finger, “so if I told you to stop now,” His hand halted. “Well aren’t you just so obedient,” You removed your fingers from yourself, reaching to grab the dildo, “you wanna see me fuck myself properly? Watch me cum all over this toy, pretend it’s your cock making me moan?”   “God yes,” his voice cracked a little, fingers twitching against himself as he briefly let the cocky, controlling persona fall away. It didn’t last long, “Show me how deep you can take that cock. C’mon, I know what a fucking slut you are, getting off on people watching you.” You didn’t bother arguing, sliding the dildo along your dripping folds before pressing it into yourself with a whine. “Wait, hang on a sec.” The was the sound of shuffling and the screen went black as Ben moved around but, eventually, he flipped the camera again and settled back on the bed. He’d propped his phone up somewhere in front of himself, letting you see every inch of him from his face to his hard, leaking cock, “better?” “Oh much, hang on I’ll do the same," you carefully pulled the dildo from yourself and sat up, leaning your phone against a stack of books on your bedside table and then adjusting your pillows in front of it, “we good?” “Yeah, take the nipple things off though, wanna see your tits properly.” You did as he asked, letting out a soft moan at the sensation. Ben chuckled, “God I can’t wait to hear how loud you moan imaging how hard I’d fuck you.” You slid the dildo back into your entrance, slowly pumping it in and out of yourself as you brought your other hand up to squeeze your breast, “mmm, you look so pretty when you’re all needy Benny.” It wasn’t a lie, between his lust blown eyes, flushed cheeks and soft pout, Ben looked incredible and it only turned you on more, “Want to show me how needy you can get? Want me make you beg?” “Faster. Harder,” he ignored your questions in favour of giving you another order but you were sure you’d heard his voice crack just a little. You sped up, whining with each thrust, Ben’s hand matching your pace as his slid his thumb over the tip and spread the precum over his length. “Fuck your wet, I can hear it. That all because of me?” “Maybe a-a bit. Also just like, fuck, being watched,” “Turn on the vibrator and rub your clit,” Ben’s voice was husky, impossibly deep and rough, “don’t stop until I say.” You moaned as the vibrations started, angling the dildo to rub against your g-spot on every pass.   “There you go, being a good little slut. Gonna cum how I tell you to.” “On-only if you cum how I tell you to.” You almost let the dildo fall from your grasp, so shocked were you by the whine Ben let out, “Like that idea? Want me to tell you what to do? If I told you to stop and watch me would you?” “No,” he said, steadfastly sticking to the game although his hand faltered and his voice had mostly lost the controlling edge he’d had before, all desperate, whiny need. “N-not sure I beli-eve you.” “Please don’t stop. Wanna cum so bad,” “I know y-ou do Benny.” “You close?” “Yes, fuck Ben, so close.” “Cum for me, come on, be a good slut and cum,” “Not. Yet. Play with your balls Benny, wanna see you cum first.” His gasped turned into a strangled cry as he ran his fingers over his testicles before lightly squeezing them “T-turn the vibrator higher,” Neither one of you were in control anymore, too caught up in getting yourselves and each other off, though you were both determinedly looking at the screen, watching each other. Ben’s lip was caught between his teeth, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he let out some of the prettiest moans you’d ever heard. It only served to push you closer to the edge, your own moans escaping as you bucked your hips rhythmically in time with the dildo moving in and out of your cunt. Ben finished a split second before you did, your eyes glued to the white now painting his stomach as you held the dildo in place, its vibrations making your toes curl.
The was a moment of quiet as you both collected yourselves, the only sounds his panted breaths and your soft whine as you removed the dildo from yourself, and then Ben spoke.   “Fuck that was hot.” “Yup,” “I thought your tits were good enough to wank over but Christ. That’s gonna keep me going for a bit.” You laughed, relaxing as your heart gradually fell back to its normal rhythm, “Well not too long I hope. You’re fun and I’d be happy to chat again sometime.” “Did I see in your bio that you take commissions?” “Yuuup,” “Huh, well, I’ll keep that in mind then.” “I look forward to it,” “Well, I should be off then, gotta clean up,” he gestured to the mess drying on his stomach. “Yeah, me too, maybe have a nap. That really was fun though so next time you’re bored or whatever hit me up. If you’re lucky I’ll let you boss me around. If you’re luckier I’ll do the bossing,” “I’d like to see you try,” “That whine you made says you’d enjoy it quite a lot,” “My whine? What about yours? Needy little brat.” Guess you’ll have to come back and settle this then.” “Guess I will. See you later.”
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radramblog · 4 years ago
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The dreaded Idle Games
Apparently, I’m bored enough at this point that I’ve now got an idle game running in the background. The quintessential timewaster since their incursion around a decade ago.
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Of course the one I’ve got running is Pokeclicker, because yknow, it’s me, but at the end of the day, these games are all pretty much the same, right?
For those who haven’t played them, the premise of an idle game is simple- as the name suggests, it’s one you can effectively be “playing” idly, having it grind in the background in the eternal quest of making number go up. Typically you will have an option to speed things up if you are trying to play more actively- hence the “clicker” moniker some go with, as mashing your mouse is technically the optimal strategy.
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I believe the ur-example, if not the original example, of the idle game is, of course, Cookie Clicker. I know at least myself (and surely many others) spent way too much time having this game drain my laptop’s battery during class in high school, probably doing a number on the wireless in the process. It was kind of the perfect storm- idle nonsense drizzled in that typical early 10’s lolrandom humour (absurdism, if you’re trying to sound like a wanker) and tied up in an attractive looking package. Cookies were kind of an ingenious theme for such a game, because (at least in western culture, and certainly American culture) they’re extremely well-understood as attractive and benign, but universally so.
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Of course, as time has based, the complexity creep in idle games has too developed. You can’t just slap a baked good onscreen and call it a day, now, you have to really get gameplay in there. At the end of the day, idle games do tend to stick to the same loop with differing themes. They’re the purest form of skinnerbox, a steady, inevitable increase of numbers where the only challenge is finding the way to make the numbers go up in the ways you want them to. Or, I suppose, finding the game in which the numbers go up in the ways you find pleasing.
Which brings me to Pokeclicker. From my limited experience, this has got to be a big example of feature creep in what is arguably supposed to be a fairly simple genre. See, because that screenshot I put at the top of this post isn’t really accurate. The game actually looks like this.
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You have a full 151 Pokemon to acquire, but you can only progress through routes once you’ve beaten enough mons or you’ve beaten a dungeon or gym. There are no less than 6 different currencies- Money, which is spent on Pokeballs and a few other resources, Dungeon coins, earned by catching mons and spent to access dungeons (which have a 60s time limit and a boss), Quest Coins, earned by doing quests and spent on basically anything fun (which makes the trickle you get them at feel brutally slow), Farming Points earned through the Berry Farm, Diamonds earned in the Underground minigame (like the Sinnoh Underground if Zynga developed it), and Shards earned through grinding and also through the underground, used to supe up your mons as a whole. It’s frankly a lot to take in, and to be fair, the tutorials and early drip-feeding of content do help somewhat, but the sheer amount of things to do means running this game in the background isn’t nearly as efficient or effective as you’d come to expect from the genre.
Oh, also I lied earlier, there’s more than 151 Pokemon. Apparently the game is all the way up to Gen 6 at this point, with every associated Pokemon available, though getting to a new region requires catching literally every Poke in the region prior. I’ve had the game running on/off for a day now, and I’m still missing 38 (though to be fair most of those are Stone evolutions or other things available only through quest coins).
Interestingly, I think part of what this and other modern Idle games have done is taken a page from freemium mobile games in their design, restricting access to certain resources or abilities on a time-basis. The difference is that in freemium games, that’s a predatory marketing scheme here to get money, whereas here it’s… just a timewaster. You get the downside of that predation without the upside.
And I suppose the waiting is kind of the point. But ultimately, I can be an impatient person, and this game is kind of testing my limits at this point.
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