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veronicaphoenix · 8 months ago

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Title: Into the Abyss of Bad Habits — Bonus Scene I (can be read as part 4)

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Oliver Sykes x Reader | Words: 6.2k

Tags: polyamorous relationship, men in denial, a lot of swearing, angst, sexual content including p in v (protected), oral (m. receiving), masturbation.

Sheffield, United Kingdom

Summer 2024

I had barely wrapped the towel around my body when the sound of their escalating voices pierced through the tranquility of the house.

They were having an argument, and it wasn’t going good.

I rushed out of the bathroom and down to the living room, the urgency in my movements nearly causing me to lose my footing as I rounded the landing of Oliver’s home, my heart racing with a mix of confusion and concern.

Arriving in the living room, with my hair tied in a messy bun and my body clad only in the towel, I was met with a disconcerting sight. Oliver and Noah were standing in the middle of the living room, glaring, and shouting at each other. Both ignored me. Luna was conspicuously absent.

As I gazed between them, I noted their rigid positions and how charged their voices were. I had never seen them so heated. The smell of the heavy lunch we’d had that morning still lingered, but the atmosphere felt oppressive. The tv was murmuring in the background. Noah’s hoodie thrown casually on the armrest and Oliver’s MacBook still open on the other side of the sofa.

“Why all the shouting?” I questioned; my voice laced with concern as I surveyed the look on their faces, their expressions, and assessed how bad it could get from here.

Despite my presence, which usually incited their attention, they remained locked in the tense standoff, their focus solely fixated on each other. The air crackled with palpable agitation as accusations flew back and forth like arrows in a heated battle.

“Oliver here seems pretty convinced that I’m monopolizing your time, and that eventually I’ll keep you away from him, as if I’d ever sabotage this relationship,” Noah retorted bitterly, gesturing vehemently towards the man standing merely six feet from him. “Do you honestly believe I’d do such thing? What do you think I’m going to do to her, dude? Hide her passport so that she can’t travel anywhere? Burn yours so that you can’t leave this country?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you did,” Oliver said, his voice dripping with frustration and resentment.

His bitter-edged response only continued to mount the tension, fueled by their sudden mutual distrust and resentment. Where was this all coming from?

“Oh, really? That’s what you think of me?”

Their voices grew louder, and I couldn’t help but feel a creeping sense of unease, a primal instinct warning of impending danger.

“Guys, please. Can you just…” They dismissed my attempt at diffusing the escalating conflict. I spotted Luna peering at us from behind the sofa. That’s where she had been; hiding. I couldn’t blame her. I had never seen Oliver and Noah acting like this towards each other, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t scare me a little, too. “You’re scaring Luna,” I admonished, gathering some courage and adding a hint of anger to my tone. However, it seemed to have little effect on them.

“You’re being ridiculous, Oliver. You’re being jealous over fucking nothing! We’re all in this together. You love her. I love her. We’re all invested in this relationship. We’re fucking her together. I love watching you fuck her. I understand that I spend more time with her because of our residence in the States, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t think about you every morning and every night.”

As Noah’s words reverberated through the room and filled each corner, realization dawned on me. Of course, I had thought about this before, but I’d been too focused on my own happiness and pleasure that I hadn’t taken the time to address the issue. Now, as the fire grew in front of me, the problem was clear.

“Boys,” I said, taking a tentative step forward to position myself nearly in between their bodies. “Calm down. Please.” My hands were raised at level with their chests. I waited a few seconds, checking if my words had some effect. When I confirmed it and earned their looks, I spoke, “I think the problem is not about who’s spending more time with me,” I told them. “The problem is that you’re both fucking me but you’re not fucking each other.” It was blunt, but given their current state, I don’t think anything else would have made them redirect their focus to the real issue.

My blunt assessment seemed to freeze them in place, the weight of my words settling like a thick fog in the room. This was the crux of the matter, and I was determined to confront it head-on, even if the hardest part had to be sorted between them.

They went still, then. My words seemed to fill the room with prickling tension. This was the issue, and they were not going to change my mind. Ever since we started this relationship, I had expected for it to be more than just me getting fucked.

“You’re wrong,” Oliver protested after a tense pause, his voice tinged with defiance. “The problem is not sex. It’s just Noah being…”

“Again!” Noah shouted. “I haven’t done anything wrong. I love her! And I love what the three of us have! Where is the fucking problem, man? Why are you being such a teenager?”

“A teena—?”

“Guys, stop! Please, stop!” This time, I pressed my hands to their chests, feeling the tension radiating through their bodies. They pressed against me. I feared that if I hadn’t been there, things might have escalated into a physical confrontation. “Oli,” I called out. He ignored me. “Oliver! Look at me. Listen to me.”

It took a while, but eventually Oliver met my gaze. I eased the pressure of my hand on his chest, conveying through my touch that there was no need for defensiveness. Not with me.

“Do you feel like Noah is not spending enough time with you?”

Something crossed his eyes.

“Love, I swear it’s not that…” Oliver began, his voice softer now. I raised my hand, gesturing to silence him.

“I think the root of the problem lies with me,” I continued, turning my head to look at Noah. His chest was rising heavily, his nostrils flaring. If I hadn’t got out of the shower at the time I did, I might have made it downstairs to find him turned into a dragon. This was not the anger that he exuded on stage. This was real. This was raw. And it wasn’t nice. “I’ve been demanding too much from you without allowing you both the space to explore your own emotions and feelings toward each other.”

Noah chuckled, and I glared at him.

“I think we made it clear plenty of times that we’re okay with this, being the three of us together,” Noah added.

“Yeah, but… There’s a line that you haven’t crossed. Every time it’s there, you both recoil, as if scared to cross it.”

“We’re not scared,” Oliver was quick to say, his tone laced with bravado.

Noah had the same expression on his face, which told me that they were going to make this harder than required for me and for themselves.

“Then, why are you shouting at each other? Why are you making such a fuss about something that could be solved in five minutes if you sit down and talk like the adults you are?”

“Because it’s not about that,” Oliver retorted.

I raised an eyebrow.

“You’re jealous,” I said. “Not jealous of Noah spending more time with me. Not jealous of Noah getting to eat me out. You’re jealous because he’s not sucking your cock.”

Oliver started saying my name, his cheeks flushed, but stopped midway, frozen. When I looked at Noah, he had an identical expression etched his face, and when his eyes crossed Oliver’s, they both looked away.

This would have been funny —cute, even— if it weren’t for how angry they were. I knew better than to make fun of their behavior when they were fuming and one step away from becoming rottweilers.

“And you’re just angry because you don’t know how to channel those emotions,” I continued telling Oliver, “and instead of telling that to Noah straight away or getting on your knees, you decide to shout at him and accuse him of monopolizing my time.”

“Because he is! Are you taking his side?”

“That’s not what I’m doing,” I replied, turning to Noah. “You—.”

“What have I done?! Is it my fault that we were born in America and live in the same city?” He exclaimed, raising his arms in the air.

I ignored his comment.

“You know exactly where his feelings come from because you feel the same! And instead of being honest with him, and with me, you shout back at him as if he was your enemy.”

“You didn’t hear the things he said to me ten minutes ago,” Noah chided.

I didn’t want to know. I just wanted to know if Oliver had been serious.

“Did you mean them?” I asked Oliver. “Did you really mean them?”

“No,” he admitted, resignation evident as he dropped his shoulders.

I sighed, hopeful that this meant we were getting somewhere; that I’d be able to bring back the peace. I had to admit, though, that the ambience had been tense since before Noah and I arrived. The last videocall between Noah and Oliver hadn’t been very nice, and the strain between them had lingered since then. I could have noticed, but instead I ignored it, selfishly focusing on the thought that I would get to have them both together again in a matter of days, as soon as our flight landed in London.

“Can we sit down so that we can discuss this calmly?” I urged, exasperation creeping into my voice.

“No,” they both replied in unison, their synchronized loud response startling me.

My eyes widened. I sighed, hard, feeling a mix of irritation and desperation.

“Fine, do it your way, but I will sit down.” I relented. I tightened the towel around my body and settled on the sofa. Their brief, shared glance at my bare legs didn’t escape my notice, but it was quickly overshadowed by the tension in the room.

“Is anyone else happy in this relationship besides me?” I asked with my arms folded defensively against the chill creeping into my body.

“Yes. I am,” Noah replied. “I’m happy, too, but this moron here fails to see it. He fails to see everything I did for this to work. I could’ve had you all to myself if—.”

“There it is!” Oliver exploded, cutting off Noah’s words with the sharp edge of his tongue.

“Noah!” I admonished him, my tone and look conveying my disapproval at his choice of words. He shouldn’t have said that, regardless of whether it held any truth. He should not have said that.

“Oh, come on,” he retorted. “Don’t twist it now. I wouldn’t be here in this house if I wasn’t okay with what we have. I told you I’m okay with you fucking her,” he said to Oliver. “She loves you fucking her. And getting her to do what she loves matters to me more than anything else.”

“It shouldn’t be like that,” I murmured softly.

Noah simply gazed at me. I could tell he was tired. He didn’t want to argue, but the complexities of his and Oliver’s dynamic had ensnared them in a tangled mess.

“It’s clear that you two love fucking me, and I definitely love it, too, so no need to go through this again. Boys,” I changed my position, kneeling on the sofa cushions to meet their eyes with a pleading look, “do you doubt what I feel for you? I have no room for a single doubt regarding your feelings for me, but I’m willing to talk if any of you feel that I don’t love you enough, or that I favor one over the other.”

“Kitten…” Noah began, but it was Oliver’s fingers the ones that reached my chin.

“You’re everything we could’ve ever asked for. You haven’t done anything wrong, doll.”

“What about each other? Do you doubt each other?” I pressed, feeling a pang of cold as Oliver’s touch left my skin. “You have to talk to each other,” I insisted. “We’re not moving forward until you do.”

For a moment, I thought I did it. I thought that I managed to break through the barriers between them, that they would finally sit down and have an open, honest conversation.

But I was wrong.

They exchanged glances, communicating silently as they waited for the other to make a move.

I felt a growl building in my throat, frustration bubbling up inside me.

“Why are you being so macho? What’s the need for this?” I demanded. “I have no problem with you being all dominant and rough with me. But you can also be every other side of yourselves, and it won’t change the way I see you.”

I could see my words chipping away at their defenses, but it still wasn’t enough. My frustration grew with each passing moment, a sense of helplessness settling over me as they remained locked in that stupid standoff.

As my words hung in the air, challenging their stubborn resolve, I expected some sign of surrender, a flicker of realization in their eyes. But instead, their stances remained rigid, their expressions hardened by the weight of their unspoken turmoil. Oliver’s jaw tightened even further, his brows furrowing in defiance, while Noah’s eyes darted away, a silent admission of discomfort.

It was as though my words had ricocheted off their armored walls, leaving me standing alone in the battlefield. Despite my efforts to bridge the chasm between them, their refusal to let down their guard only fueled my frustration further, a searing flame of helplessness burning within me.

With a heavy sigh, I realized that I had reached the limits of my influence.

“This is it? You prefer to keep ignoring the elephant in the room? Both of you? For God’s sake… All right,” I stood up, crossing between their bodies and heading towards the stairs. Luna suddenly trailing behind me in a hurried way. Turning away, my footsteps heavy with disappointment, I left them to solve the problem on their own. “You can sleep in the sofa tonight. Or, I’ll take the sofa and you can take… the bed or the floor. I don’t care, but I’m not going to be a part of this anymore until the three of us are finally on the same boat. You’re being dicks to each other, and the three of us are going to pay for the consequences, eventually.”

Standing there was like watching a slow-motion collision, where each avoided the inevitable crash, preferring the tension to confrontation. My outburst was a last-ditch effort, a desperate plea to break through the thick walls of pride and insecurity that kept them at odds. But as I stormed out, leaving them to their stubborn silence, I couldn't shake the sinking feeling that this impasse would persist until they found the courage to confront the truth they both feared.

I woke up to the chill of two empty sides on the bed, and a pang of loneliness pierced my chest. When I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, I could see the sadness etched into every line of my face.

I washed away the traces of sleep and decided to make the bed, a subconscious effort to delay facing the reality awaiting me downstairs.

They hadn’t come upstairs to sleep. Oliver entered the bedroom around 8pm to grab some clothes and retrieve his and Noah’s toothbrush from the bathroom, and I couldn’t help but be speechless at how dramatic they were being.

Thirty minutes later, having attempted and failed to find some peace and strength in a short meditation on the balcony, I went downstairs with hushed footsteps.

I started preparing breakfast, not aiming to disturb their sleep, but the soft hum of the coffee machine and the clinking of plates and cups echoing in the open kitchen stirred Noah from his slumber. On the other side of the sofa, Oliver lay sprawled on his back, his hair tousled. As the deep sleeper he was, he only stirred slightly before settling back into his restful state.

I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself. It seemed that at least one of us managed to get some decent rest, even if it was on the couch.

As Noah propped himself up on his forearms, his gaze drifted over to Oliver’s form, then down to the middle of the sofa where their legs lay entangled, hidden beneath the shared blanket. The sight of their bodies occupying the entire sofa would have brought a smile to my lips were it not for the reason why they had spent the night there. I could only imagine them moving around and kicking each other during the night, adding another silly unnecessary thing to the pile of stuff they had been arguing about the evening before.

With a heavy sigh, Noah finally sat up and ran a hand through his face and hair.

“Morning,” he grumbled.

“Morning,” I replied.

Noah took a quick bathroom break. When he came back, he walked with deliberate steps to where I was standing in the kitchen. He leaned in for a morning kiss that I was more than quick to give. He lingered by the kitchen isle to watch me make breakfast, accepting the coffee mug I offered and taking a sip while keeping his eyes on me.

“I expected you guys to come to bed at some point,” I said in a low voice, trying to conceal the twinge of hurt I felt at the fact that they had opted for sleeping on the couch instead of addressing their issues and joining me in bed.

“I wanted to,” Noah said, his voice tinged with regret, “but you made it clear that we needed to sort things out first, that you didn’t want us in bed with you if we didn’t, so…”

I clicked my tongue, shaking my head. I placed my hands on the edge of the counter, exasperation crawling back to my bones.

“You know it wasn’t meant like that,” I sighed. “I was just trying to nudge you both into dealing with the real problem.”

His silent response and the heaviness of his brown gaze on me confirmed my dreaded suspicion—he still wasn’t ready to. He still didn’t want to talk about it. Great.

“Did you miss us?” He suddenly asked, breaking the silence.

Typical Noah. Whenever he knew he’d messed up, he’d try to sidestep the issue with softness instead of facing it head-on. I couldn’t help but be surprised that even after the heated argument we’d had the day before, he was still reluctant to confront the elephant in the room.

But when he looked at me with those puppy-dog eyes, I suddenly became weak.

“Every minute,” I admitted, a bittersweet smile forming on my lips. “I couldn’t sleep. I’m used to being sandwiched between you two now. I kept checking my phone, hoping for a text, and waiting for both of you to show up at the bedroom door,” I shook my head. “God, I’m turning into such a sap.”

My words elicited a laugh from him, one of my favorite sounds in the morning.

“You’ve always been a sap,” he teased, leaving the coffee mug aside and pulling me close until his hands found my waist. With no effort at all, he lifted me onto the counter.

Grinning, I wrapped my arms around his neck, running my fingers through the silky hair at his nape. He stepped between my legs, and I relished in the familiar warmth of his body against mine in the chilled morning.

“Did you talk?” I inquired softly, obviously referring to him and Oliver.

“Not much, to be honest,” he admitted. His forehead found mine as he leaned in. “I don’t know what to do.”

Allowing a moment for him to relax in my arms, I gently brushed a loose strand of hair from his forehead after pulling back to meet his eyes.

“I know you two are aware that this is not a relationship based solely on you two dating me,” I began, my voice tender. “We’re all in this together. We’re all dating each other. But you and Oli are struggling to come to terms with it,” I made a pause, my eyes boring into his, “or with what it means.”

A flash of insecurity crossed Noah’s face, his usual self-confidence momentarily faltering. My heart ached for him.

“I’ve never been with a man before, baby,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

I nodded, understanding without him needing to explain. Of course I knew.

“I had never been with two men,” I started to say, reaching out to touch his cheek gently, “but here I am, utterly in love and happy with both of them,” I tried to summon a reassuring smile, but Noah’s insecurity lingered, prompting me to continue speaking. “It was scary at first. I spent weeks worrying about what would happen, especially when we flew back home after Europe. But everything is so wonderful now, and I wish to keep it that way, but for that, we need the whole package, Noah. And that includes you and Oliver giving each other what you’re missing out,” I playfully bopped his nose, but he flinched, giving me an annoyed look. All right. “Also, I don’t think Oli’s ever been with another man, either” I added, glancing toward his sleeping form on the sofa. “So, it would be a first time for both of you.”

“Would you… like that? Oli and me?” Noah’s voice wavered with uncertainty.

I reached for a biscuit from a plate beside me, taking a bite and chewing slowly. After licking some crumbs from the corner of my lips, I casually rubbed the heel of my socked foot against the back of Noah’s thigh.

“I’ve been thinking about sitting in the armchair in the bedroom and watch you and Oliver do nasty things to each other,” I said with a mischievous grin.

Noah narrowed his eyes at me.

“You’re a naughty girl, you know that?”

His teasing remark brought back a sense of normalcy, making me feel a bit relieved for the first time that morning after a restless night.

“So I’ve been told,” I replied nonchalantly, taking another bite of the biscuit.

Noah took the remaining biscuit from my hand and returned it to the plate before kissing me slowly, his hand cupping my cheek and his fingers tucking my hair behind my ear as our lips melded together.

“It’d make me really happy to see you together,” I said, placing my hands on his face and pulling back slightly to meet his gaze directly, “but I know it would make you and Oli even happier. You’re hungry for each other. I’ve seen it in the way you look at him and the way he looks at you. The sex is amazing, and we’re all satisfied, but you’re just dying to taste him and you’re too shy to make a move. Same with him, which is unusual,” I continued, drawing out my words as I shrugged my shoulders, “given how carefree he is with everything he says and does, including those impromptu cat walks when he’s wearing that silly maid outfit.”

We shared a laugh, the tension dissipating further before indulging in another lingering kiss. This was Noah’s way of seeking reassurance, and I was more than happy to oblige and give it to him. I would give him as many kisses as he needed.

“This is where all this tension is coming from”, I concluded, my voice softening once again.

Noah’s chest rose with a heavy sigh that said he finally admitted it. He released the breath he had been holding just as Luna appeared at our side, her eyes pleading for her morning walk.

“Can you wait a bit, darling? We’ll take you out in a few minutes,” I said to her.

“I’ll take her out now,” came Oliver’s unexpected voice.

Noah and I startled at the interruption, Noah moving away from me as if caught in something criminal. Despite reaching out to him, my eyes focused on Oliver.

Oliver excused himself to go to the bathroom before I could open my mouth. He was still upset about what happened the night before, and I guess he didn’t like seeing me in Noah’s arms first thing in the morning, especially since that’s what started the arguments the day prior.

I reminded myself to stay calm. I’d have to go through the same talk with him to get him to the same place where Noah was.

“Oliver,” I said, my voice gentle yet firm.

“What?” came his response, edged with tension. He avoided looking at Noah.

Seeing them like this broke my heart and infuriated me simultaneously.

“You and Noah need to talk. Right now,” I said, my tone leaving no room for argument.

The whole situation was dripping with irony. I wanted to shout back at Oliver all the things he had preached about before we started this relationship—all that talk about communication being paramount to make this work. Where was all that now?

“We can talk later,” he replied, attempting to evade the conversation by calling out for Luna, who happily trotted towards her dad, tongue out and tail wagging.

“No,” I asserted, holding my ground. “You two are going to talk right now,” I insisted, positioning myself at a fair distance between both so it wouldn’t seem like I was taking sides. “I swear, if either of you keeps dragging this out without reason, I will get on the first flight back to Los Angeles. So, decide right now. Do you want me to leave?” I directed the question to both of them. “Or do you want more? What’s it going to be?”

Oliver dropped his shoulders in resignation, a small victory amidst the tension. Noah was standing behind me. I could tell that he was ready to get it together and be honest with Oliver and with himself, but he would keep holding back until it was clear that Oliver was in the same boat.

Setting Luna’s leash down in the kitchen isle, Oliver caused Luna to drop her tail and tilt her head in confusion. Wasn’t he going to take her out? I made a mental note to go out with her later for a long walk, but right now, Oliver and Noah needed to have the conversation they’d been avoiding for months.

Oliver let himself fall onto the sofa, pushing the blanket that he and Noah had used during the night to the side without bothering to fold it. His green eyes met mine. Then, his gaze finally shifted to Noah.

“Come here,” Oliver said to Noah, patting the spot next to him.

Noah sat next to him, a huff coming out from him, his arms resting unpreoccupied between his legs. It took him a moment to turn his head toward Oliver, but when he did…

They held each other’s gazes for a while. I don’t know what they felt in that moment, but I was certainly feeling the anticipation, my heartbeat increasing with each passing second.

Oliver raised his arm and then his fingers were touching Noah’s chin and lower lip. There was a question in his eyes, something that only they knew what it meant.

Then, they leaned into each other, and they kissed.

My breath caught in my throat, but as their mouths moved against each other, I found myself flooded by a sense of relief and… excitement. Was this supposed to be wrong? It definitely didn’t feel like it. I was enjoying it very much, feeling pride for my boys and pride at myself for having achieved this.

Though they appeared entirely oblivious to my presence in the room, their movements seemed to align with the path I hoped they would follow.

As I contemplated where to position myself to observe the unfolding scene in that summer morning, Noah sank to his knees between Oliver’s legs, deftly undoing the laces of his sweatpants until he slid them down, taking his underwear along with them to his ankles.

A muttered curse escaped Oliver’s lips, betraying all the tension that had been following us since days prior.

Noah raised his eyes at him before daring to put his hands on his length.

“Is this what you want?” Noah asked him.

If he really wanted an answer, he didn’t wait for it.

His mouth swallowed his length, and within seconds, Oliver was leaning back on the sofa, clutching at the pillows with clenched fists, his lips parted in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

Had I imagined this scenario before today? Yes, I had, but never had I voiced it aloud, nor di I anticipate witnessing it, in all honesty, especially not amidst the chaos of the day’s events.

I was about to climb onto the counter to get a better view of Noah pleasuring Oliver when Oliver’s green eyes caught mine.

“Doll,” his voice was ragged, breathless, “why don’t you come over here and join us?”

Uncertain of his intentions, I approached them cautiously, licking my lips. Oliver gestured toward the corner of the room, his chest rising and falling as Noah continued his ministrations between his legs.

“Jesus Christ,” Oliver muttered before mustering the strength to focus back on me. “Doll, sit down and touch yourself. Don’t stand there watching us. This isn’t some damn show.”

Noah hadn’t even lifted his head from Oliver’s lap, his attention entirely consumed by the task at hand, when he said, “Do it. Now.”

Taking a deep breath, I settled onto the corner of the sofa, positioning myself to their view. Oliver’s gaze roamed over me, his struggle evident as Noah continued, relentless.

“Feet on the sofa. Panties off. Let me see you,” Oliver instructed, his voice restrained, indicating he was not far from the edge.

I complied, feeling a slight shyness creeping in. This was a scenario none of us were accustomed to. Slowly, I parted my legs, and Oliver raised an expectant eyebrow, silently urging me on. Without hesitation, I grasped the hem of my oversized shirt and lifted it, revealing the black thong I wore underneath.

“I said—” His voice was cut off abruptly as Noah took him deeper, to the back of his throat, “off,” Oliver growled, his demand leaving no room for negotiation.

With a quick movement, I lifted my hips and removed my thong, spreading my legs open to their gaze. As my fingers found their way to my clit, tracing soft circles around it, I sensed that we were in for a wild morning.

Barely two minutes into the act, Oliver let out a primal growl, his head thrown back, hands gripping Noah’s hair tightly as he pressed him against his crotch. With a soft ‘pop’, Noah released him, drawing in a deep breath and wiping the back of his hand across his mouth.

“Don’t tell me that was your first,” Oliver said, “because there’s no way I’m going to believe you.”

Noah chuckled, his laughter momentarily dissipating the heat in the room. The sound would have relieved whatever remnants of tension and fear remained inside of me were it not for the fact that I was about to come myself.

“Definitely a first time,” Noah replied with a tilt of his head. Then, as if sensing my arousal, he turned his head towards me, and his smile fell.

He stood up, his hungry faze traveling from my face down to my exposed pussy. He had been so focused on Oliver that he hadn’t noticed the spectacle unfolding on the other side of the sofa.

Without uttering a word, Noah walked towards me. He didn’t need to bend down or extend an arm; he simply removed my hand and then, he just… touched me.

“You’re a mess,” he acknowledged, his fingers dragging slowly through my folds.

He brought his fingers to his mouth and tasted me, causing the burning sensation inside of me to only intensify, threatening to consume me if I didn’t get their hands on me in the next few seconds.

“Oli,” Noah called out, glancing over his shoulder. “You good? She needs to be rewarded, don’t you think?”

“Sure she does,” he agreed, pulling up his sweatpants and running a hand through his hair. “Sit back,” he told Noah. “I’m going to enjoy this. Doll, do you want to ride Noah?”

“I don’t think you have to ask,” Noah added, a grin spreading across his face as he extended his arm towards me.

Grasping his hand, I moved myself onto his lap. Noah’s hands found my hips beneath the hem of my t-shirt, while Oliver took hold of my right hand, bringing it to his lips.

“You need to be rewarded for doing so good to us.”

“Right?!” I exclaimed, raising my eyebrows at him with a smile. It wasn’t lost on me that he had been denying his desire for Noah to pleasure him for months. These men and their stubbornness…

“And you’re such a good, good girl to us.”

“She is,” Noah agreed, his voice a whisper as his hands guided me onto one of his thighs, pressing me down against him, my dampness spreading onto the fabric of his sweatpants.

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Come on, baby. Use me,” he urged, his hands steadying me with a firm grip on my hips.

“But…” I began, my face flushing crimson.

“I’ll fuck you in a moment, but I want you to use me first,” he insisted, his voice filled with desire.

Feeling self-conscious under the intense scrutiny of both men’s gazes, I opted to press my mouth to Noah’s as I began to grind against his thigh. He tasted like Oliver and the experience made me dizzy. Noah swallowed my moans eagerly, while Oliver urged me to go faster, his hand caressing my ass enticingly as I moved myself on top of Noah.

Lost in a haze of pleasure, at some point Oliver grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled me towards him so that he could kiss me passionately, allowing Noah a breather.

Eventually, I became a whimpering mess, my hands sliding down to find Noah’s bulge. I stroked it a few times with my open palm before deciding I couldn’t wait any longer. With deft fingers, I unlaced him and freed his cock.

Noah’s hand in my waist steadied me.

“You sure about this?” The question was directed to Oliver. There was concern in his voice.

Oliver dismissed it with a shake of his head. “That pussy is not going anywhere. It’s ours. So go on. Take her.”

Noah nodded. I whined in his arms, hoping that he would just let me get him inside of him.

“Condom?” He asked, still directing his questions to Oli.

Oliver disappeared briefly, returning with a condom package that he handed to Noah. However, I took it from his fingers.

“I’ll do it,” I offered, taking the package and swiftly sliding the condom onto Noah’s cock.

Lifting my hips slightly, I positioned myself above him and sank down, moaning softly, a melody that echoed in Noah’s ears and Oliver’s too.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” Oliver murmured in awe, watching each of my expressions like a hawk.

Resting my head on Noah’s shoulder, I began to move my hips in a rhythmic motion, gliding up and down, front to back, performing a dance on top of him that ignited a bigger fire inside of me. The intensity heightened when Oliver sneaked a hand between our bodies, his fingers finding my clit with precision.

“Come for us, babygirl,” Oliver said, his voice a seductive whisper.

Unable to resist the overwhelming pleasure, I surrendered to the sensations, especially as I felt Noah pulsating inside of me. His grip tightened on my hip, his other hand tangling in my hair as he pressed his face against my neck, emitting a primal roar against my skin as he released himself into the condom.

I dug my nails on his shoulders through his t-shirt as my own orgasm crashed over me, the waves of pleasure overwhelming me as Noah’s pulses still filled me up and Oliver’s fingers continued their relentless assault on my clit.

It took me a moment to find my voice amidst the euphoria. I asked Noah if he was okay, and he responded with a sloppy kiss on my jaw, a bright smile spreading across his face afterward.

I glanced at Oliver, who was watching us with admiration despite our dishevelled state. Not that he looked much better himself.

After nuzzling against Noah’s chest for a moment, I shifted myself towards Oliver. Wrapping my arms around his neck, half of my body still remained in Noah’s lap. Noah lifted my shirt to uncover my ass, giving it a playful slap before caressing it and dropping his head back with a contented sigh.

“Good talk,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice and eliciting laughter from all of us.

“Yeah,” Oliver agreed with a chuckle. “We should have more breakfasts like this.”

Our moment of levity was abruptly interrupted by Luna’s barking.

She stood in the doorway, looking frustrated that we had completely forgotten about her.

“Oh, shit,” I said.

Yeah, our bad habits were just about to get worse.

Taglist:

#noah sebastian #oliver sykes #bad omens #bmth #bring me the horizon #bad omens fanfic #bmth fanfic #noah sebastian fanfic #oliver sykes fanfic #noah sebastian x oliver sykes #noah sebastian x reader #oliver sykes x reader #oliver sykes x you #noah sebastian x you #noah sebastian fic #oliver sykes fic

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wintfleur · 9 months ago

Text

﹕─┈ 𝜗 RORO'S 1K CELLY 𝜚

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( THANK YOU THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH FOR 1K FOLLOWERS !!!! I’m genuinely still in shock, when I first created this account I honestly wasn’t sure or expecting that I’d get as much love as I have received from you all. I’m very grateful for all the love and support and encouragement you guys have given me on my journey . . . I will always be thankful. Your comments, reblogs and asks keep me motivated to continue writing <333 i will try to write every ask that you guys send in as fast as I can . . . I’m a slow writer but you guys know this already. Again, thank you for 1k, I can’t wait to continue my journey with all of you !!! And I can’t wait to interact with you guys more too <333 )

﹕─┈ this is my first time doing something like this so please be patient with me !! I will be accepting requests for the rest of March.

﹕─┈ tagging some of my mutuals because I honestly wouldn’t be here without them and I’m so grateful for all of them, ily guys @lovings4turn @chrisevansonly @norafaye @childsuppor <333

﹕─┈ 𝜗 suggest a prompt 𝜚 you can suggest a prompt from the list’s here or here and here, you can see here for who I write for and here for what I write and don’t write. Or you can just send in some of your own thoughts and headcanons.

﹕─┈ use this emoji 🌱 to clarify that the prompt is from the first list. This emoji 🪷 for the second list and this one 🌷 for the third.

﹕─┈ reminder there going to be blurbs and drabbles. They can be fluff, angst and smut. Romantic pairing or platonic/familiar pairing is fine, just please make sure to clarify what you want !!! Please clarify who you want doing the action, the reader or the person your requesting !!!

﹕─┈ you can ask for a prompt for my AU or suggest a prompt that’s part of the same universe as some my already done works . . . aka like a very small part 2 if that makes sense !!!

﹕─┈ please use a 🎀 to clarify that it’s for my 1k celly or just clarify in words, what ever is easier for you !!!

﹕─┈ 𝜗 🦩𝜚 send in three F1 drivers or hockey players or twd characters and I’ll do kiss/marry/ kill !!!

﹕─┈ 𝜗 RORO’S 1K CELLY WORK’S 𝜚

[ req’s are closed ]

ᡣ𐭩 PERFECT? Logan sargeant

ᡣ𐭩 ARGUMENTS ON THE DOCK AND NOSEY BROTHERS Quinn Hughes

ᡣ𐭩 ENCHANTED BY THE BEAUTY OF YOU Luke Hughes

ᡣ𐭩 ITS CALLED CHARM BABY ! Lewis Hamilton

ᡣ𐭩 MESSY HAIR AND INK STAINS will smith

ᡣ𐭩 HEALING KISSES FROM AN ANGEL Nico hischier

ᡣ𐭩 ICE CREAM AND MUCH-NEEDED HUGS Luke Hughes

ᡣ𐭩 SLEEP DARLING Lando Norris

ᡣ𐭩 MORNINGS WITH OUR LITTLE PAWFIELD Cole Caufield

ᡣ𐭩 HAIR DRYERS AND PROMISED MIMOSAS Lando Norris

ᡣ𐭩 IRRESISTIBLE will smith

ᡣ𐭩 YOUR LIPS, MY LIPS Lando Norris

ᡣ𐭩 CHOCOLATE ‘N BEER will smith

﹕─┈ 𝜗 disclaimers 𝜚 I have every right to ignore or not do a request if I’m not comfortable with writing it. Again please just be kind and patient with me <333

main masterlist

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ayippeei · 4 months ago

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Wow, gosh well today is my birthday.

Today is my 14th birthday

I just want to say a few things because honestly it’s hard for me to even imagine, 14, it’s a big number to me.

Unfortunately nobody I know irl was available to celebrate this year and I’ve learned that it’s alright, people get busy. I’m thankful for everyone I’ve known, whether it be we aren’t friends anymore or had problems or even if we’re still together! Everyone I’ve met till this day has at least some importance to my life and I’m glad to have met everyone I know now.

Honestly I feel like I’m being extra so go ahead and cringe, I am too at myself lol.

Now this applies to everyone I’ve known, especially those I’m close with

Thank you for making me happy and brightening my mood in ways that I could never imagine, caring enough to ask how I am when I’d get upset and keeping me going throughout the day. I enjoy making jokes with you all and I love hearing you laugh, even if my jokes weren’t that funny it made me happy I put a smile on someone’s face. You guys have changed my point of view on so many things and helped a lot on my art journey.

There have been days where I’d feel so horrible I couldn’t even get out of my bed but to check my phone and see your messages would leave a smile on my face and every day I look forward to hanging out, and even if you may not be available I’ll be thinking about you and wondering how your day has been. It makes me happy knowing you’re okay and when you’re not, I’d be willing to help, even if you don’t want help then I’ll wait.

Seeing you send me art or share accomplishments will always make me happy and proud for you. I love exchanging drawings and ideas and making new AUs and ocs or playing games together and even just talking in general and having fun.

I have so much more to say but I wouldn’t know how to say or express it, I’m just glad we’ve met <3

Thank you for making me the person I am today

Here I’ll just tag as many of my current friends accounts as I can list down, it’s a lot of people (in my opinion at least <3)

@garbagechocolate @alexluminosbucket @lilsteppybigoof @harry-clarence @oddogoblino @sleepyzz0h @sleepyheadd0 @gomorahkallenbach @razberrymilkshake @artistkeval @lunar-o-ocean @theblog-with-thestuff @sol-s-hine @crescentdream3r @creampuff-central @nomsthecat @nosleepygay @requiem186 @indiedragondev

And if you’re a mutual of mine that sees this but hasn’t been tagged, don’t worry you too <3

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noturlondonboy · 1 month ago

Note

Hi, hello I’m really sorry for all the hate you’re getting for autistic! Yelena, she’s so near and dear to my heart especially cus she reminds me so much of me.

Thank you so much for responding to my last two asks on autistic! Yelena with a literal wall of text, it makes me happy every time.

I would love it if you wrote more, specifically to spite the haters but also because I’m a self indulgent little shit.

Don’t let the hate get to you <3

Ps: since you asked for a silly little way to recognize me, we’re actually mutuals on this site but I’m terrified of social interaction and being judged so if it’s cool I’d just go by: R :)

I love your writing

-R :)

Hi anon!! Welcome back <3 thank you so much for the love, this girl means so much to me and I’m glad she’s important to others, too. Life has been stressing me tf OUT recently and popping into my inbox to find new asks about Autistic!Yelena and Genderqueer!Kate really helps me feel better for a small time.

Responding with a wall of text is one of my favorite things! And yknow what, here’s some more :)

-I’ve been thinking about just a soft day with Autistic!Yelena recently

-there’s no plans, there’s no stress, no pressure, no expectations

-she sleeps in until like 10, which is insane for her. Kate wakes up before her even, even more unheard of- she’s quiet and soft when she gets out of bed, just kissing Yelena’s nose and then going to the kitchen to make breakfast

-their missions have been more and more demanding recently, and Yelena’s been masking harder than usual in order to cope with it. Buuuut, one problem… the harder the mask, the harder the crash

-so yeah. She crashes.

-she’s kinda just all fuzzy brained the whole day, and for the first couple hours of being awake, speaking is an absolute no. Kate has been helping her learn ASL, and she prefers to communicate that way when she goes nonverbal, so their conversation over breakfast is the occasional sleepy hand motion

-miss girl needs to sleep a lot, but she’s horrible at naps. When her brain is taking a day to recalibrate, that’s when Kate does her best to get her to rest during the regular day time hours. Usually it takes a hot shower (she hates hot baths and actually prefers ice ones) and some cuddles under a weighted blanket and maybe some doggy pillows and a snack to get her sleepy and calm enough

-I wouldn’t say that Yelena experiences any age regression per se, but she definitely prefers simpler foods that remind her of being a kid again when she’s feeling fuzzy. Macaroni and cheese is already a given, but we’re busting out the dinosaur chicken nuggets and chocolate milk too (also Kate just already has these things stocked up for herself because she’s just like me)

-clothing is important and needs to be paid attention to. In a good headspace, Yelena can usually throw on whatever, because she’s already curated her wardrobe to always be comfortable. No tags, to bumpy seams, certain textures completely removed, etc. That being said, sometimes her skin feels like it’s literally on fire, and honestly it would feel better to go completely naked if she couldn’t feel the ac and the sun on her skin. Kate helps her pick out something really simple and loose, and Yelena steals a pair of her boxers, because she absolutely adores how soft they are, even if they’re a little tight on her hips and stomach

-normally she prefers to have her nails painted, but when she’s feeling particularly fuzzy and sensitive, nail polish more often ends up scratched off. Kate finds some cheap nail polish that comes off easily in a color that Yelena only mostly likes so that she won’t feel bad about removing it 30 minutes after it finishes drying. Sometimes she spends a few hours just applying and reapplying it after it flakes away because it gives her brain something to focus on, and is minorly destructive in a fun way that doesn’t hurt anything (Kate always makes sure they have a spa day later that week if they can so that Yelena has a chance to fix her nails back up how she likes them)

-this girl is secretly the BIGGEST fucking cuddler istg. Oh ho ho, you thought Kate was clingy? Wait till Yelena is grumpy and tired and then bam, tiny blonde Russian koala baby

-she’s my everything :,))

#autistic!yelena #autistic yelena belova #autistic yelena belova headcannons #headcannons #ask #anonymous #R anon #London answers asks #London can make friends #soft day with Yelena #autism #autism spectrum #neurodivergence #bishova #Kate Bishop #katelena

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cyncerity · 4 months ago

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Holy fucking shit the Dad’s Troubles AU story?? That i’ve been teasing since January??? It’s finally done??????

this took so fucking long that i’m debating posting an alternate and an extended unedited version that’s how many times i’ve written and re-written this thing.

anyway without further ado, the posts you’ll need for the context of this story are here and here, and the art teaser is here (if you’ve been keeping up with the Dad’s Troubles AU since 2022 you probably don’t need the context lol, but it has been a while so they’re there for whoever needs a refresher)

@quotethemenevervore (sorry if that’s the wrong account to tag btw) you seemed very excited for this story so i figured i’d tag you lol

tw: soft, safe vore, panic attack ig???

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea.” “I know, but, c’mon…we have to tell him eventually.”

Charlie sat on Schlatt’s living room table, the human leaning his head on his palm to be at a closer level to the borrower he was talking to. This was the same conversation they’d been having on and off for months now: should Ted be let in on the secret that Charlie wasn’t human. Obviously, there was a clear answer for them: eventually. Now, when ‘eventually’ actually was…that was a different problem.

“Do I need to remind you what happened the first and only time you met him in person?” Schlatt asked, to which Charlie just groaned. “You have to bring up the fish thing every time, don’t you? Cause yeah, I remember almost drowning, thank you very much.” “It’s more so the principle that he would throw you out a fuckin window, but you get my point. He clearly doesn’t see you as a person.” As much as Schlatt always hated to think about that, it was something him and Ted could never agree on. Ted was of the opinion that borrowers were basically just bipedal rats, and nothing Schlatt had done to convince him otherwise had worked. “But what if I changed that?” Charlie challenged, standing to pace the space in front of Schlatt. “He knows me, he’s known me for years. We’re friends, fuck, I’d say the three of us are best friends! There’s no way he’d just forget all of that the second he sees what height I am, right?” He finished, looking up at Schlatt with something akin to fear. Like he wanted Schlatt to tell him he was right, that it would all work out. But he couldn’t, because didn’t have an answer to what Ted would do. Schlatt sighed. “Honestly, I don’t kn-“

The doorknob to the apartment shook. It was locked, Schlatt always locked it when it was just him in the apartment. Schlatt and Charlie froze. Was Quackity trying to get in? Cause he wasn’t supposed to be home for a good few more hours, hence the door being locked. They were both absolutely silent, waiting for any confirmation that it was their mutual friend, until they heard a few utterances of cursing from behind the locked door.

“God fucking damnit, where are the keys Schlatt gave me-“

Ted.

~~~

Shit, shit. Schlatt had totally forgotten he gave Ted a space pair of keys for when he was visiting. Fuck, fuck, what the fuck should he do with Charlie?

He heard the key turn in the lock.

All of the borrower tunnels were too far away for the remaining few seconds he had till Ted walked in. There’d be no disguising that he was talking to Charlie. Charlie, who was part of a species that Ted believed couldn’t talk. He wouldn’t be able to explain himself.

He heard a creak as the door started to open.

Did he have a pocket? Shit, no, he had a crew neck and the pockets on his jeans were too tight and small for Charlie to fit in. There was only one other option he could think of. Fuck. Charlie, like him, had been frozen from shock this whole time. That would probably make this easier. He quickly lowered himself down and tried to grab Charlie to shove him in his mouth.

“Schlatt!” He heard Ted shout, and suddenly, without warning, Charlie moved.

Frantically, almost blindly running at him with no warning and accidentally falling past his hand and into his mouth, and everything went to shit.

~~~

Oh no. Speak of the devil. Ted. God dammit, why did he have to show up right when he and Schlatt were talking about him. And why did Schlatt even give him a spare key?

He heard the key turn in the lock.

Ok, fuck, how the fuck was he supposed to get out of this one? He didn’t have time to run, he wasn’t naïve enough to believe that. And contrary to how often he joked about the window and the almost-getting-eaten-by-a-fish thing, it was actually a pretty horrifying experience that he would not like to relive, thank you very much.

He heard a creak as the door started to open.

Shit, what should he do? What could he do?! He was out in the open, nowhere to run and nowhere to hide unless Schlatt had pockets or- wait. Schlatt. Schlatt…himself could be a place to hide. He’d seen Tubbo do it, that had been a long fuckin conversation after walking in on that, but it was safe. Probably a hell of a lot safer than being anywhere near Ted. But was he really willing to end up down his best friends throat?

“Schlatt!” He heard Ted shout and, apparently, he was.

He broke free from his panicked state and immediately sprinted towards Schlatt, planning to climb his shirt to his mouth and just hoping to god Schlatt would get the hint. However, he apparently hadn’t noticed that Schlatt had the same idea as him.

“Schlatt?” Ted asked.

Charlie ran full speed into something jarringly warm and wet. The change in…well, everything environmentally made him yell, as any and all light was suddenly stripped from him.

The door clicked closed, Ted was in the room with them. Thank god they’d been facing away from the door.

Charlie felt himself be thrown backward in the dark space, losing his balance as one of his legs caught in something that started to pull him down.

Oh fuck, that was weird, but it was fine. He wanted this, he decided to do this, he…he was getting eaten. It’s fine. This is fine, it’s Schlatt for fucks sake. And yet, the part of his brain that hadn’t quite registered that the “getting eaten” thing was actually his plan, told him to fight, to try and free his leg from the throat that threatened to drag him deeper into the giant.

“Are you ok, man?” Charlie heard Ted ask from beyond the closed teeth around him. He was getting closer.

The darkest split a bit, and something else entered the mouth with him for a moment. He couldn’t see well enough through his spit covered glasses and small amount of light what they were, but he guessed pretty immediately when they got a grip of his arms and started to shove him down the esophagus. Fingers. Schlatt pinned Charlie’s arms at his sides and shoved more of him down.

The fingers retracted from the mouth when only his legs remained out of the throat. He felt the environment around him change and realized what was happening. His struggling increased tenfold, kicking desperately at the teeth and gums around him to no avail, as the giant swallowed one last time and sent him fully into the throat.

~~~~~

“Schlatt!” Ted yelled, running over to see Schlatt holding his throat, unable to breathe. Ted went to wrap his arms around him to perform the heimlich, but Schlatt was thankfully aware enough to push him away at the last second. Unfortunately, that move made him send himself crashing onto the floor. Ted rushed over again, worry plastered on his face as Schlatt held up a hand, signaling to stop. So, Ted did just that, running off to do god knows what. Schlatt, meanwhile, could feel Charlie get stuck just a short way before he stopped blocking his windpipe. Schlatt pushed at his throat, swallowing frantically, pounding at his chest, anything to get Charlie down faster. He didn’t realize just how much…bigger Charlie was than his son. Charlie was a grown man, and tall by borrower standards, too. Compare that to Tubbo who was short by all standards and Schlatt realized he may have bitten off more than he could chew. Charlie seemed to be helping it go faster somewhat by squirming his way down, though he doubted it was on purpose. Though maybe this was a thought he could have later since at the moment he was very focused on not choking and dying on his best friend.

It was when Schlatt was starting to black out that Ted came back with a glass of water, not even giving Schlatt time to process it before forcefully opening his mouth and pouring it down his throat, giving Schlatt the ability to swallow Charlie down farther and finally unblock him from his windpipe. Schlatt fell to the ground again with a gasp, trying to drag as much air into his lungs as humanely possible. He placed a hand on his chest as he finally, fucking finally, felt Charlie make his way closer towards the stomach. He dissolved into a coughing fit on the floor, Ted slowly lowering himself to sit next to him. Schlatt wasn’t even gonna try to explain anything to Ted yet, though. Not until Charlie ended up where he needed to be and he could stop worrying.

He did his best to keep a poker face while he felt a much heavier weight than usual drop into his stomach. He really hadn’t thought about how much bigger Charlie was than Tubbo, but it was more noticeable now than ever.

Immediately he felt a flurry of movement from his stomach, limbs flailing and Charlie trying to get accustomed to whatever it was like in there. Schlatt squeezed his stomach in so Charlie wouldn’t trigger something audible that he’d have to make an excuse over, but quickly found that the borrower’s whole frame was shaking.

Schlatt only had time to worry for a second before he was snapped out of his shock with a hand clap onto his shoulder, snapping his attention back to what was happening on the outside. “Schlatt, you with me, man?” “..Yeah! Yeah, I’m, uh, I’m fine.” Right, he had an act to put on for Ted. “What the fuck were you choking on?” “Oh nothing, so, what brings you here?” Schlatt asked, trying to redirect the conversation. He didn’t know what excuse he would use for that shit show if he needed one, but he doubted he’d be able to convincingly lie to Ted about it with Charlie right there listening. But it wasn’t like he could say the truth. ‘Sorry about that Ted, I was choking on our third podcast member because he’s scared you’ll hurt him but don’t worry, he’s in my stomach now so he’s safe from, again, exclusively you.’

Yeah, no.

“Well, I came over to surprise you. Didn’t think you’d almost die or something.” Ted said, and Schlatt chuckled a bit in response. “Yeah, well, I didn’t expect anyone to break into my apartment.” Schlatt stood, silently thankful for Ted helping him up as he adjusted to the added weight in his middle. He felt Charlie sway a bit as he stood, though there was significantly less fighting back on Charlie’s end at the movement. Thank fuck. “You down here for any reason other than to scare me half to death?” Schlatt said, pacing over to his fridge under the guise of grabbing food while he silently felt for any signal from Charlie now that his back was turned to Ted. “Yeah, actually.” Ted said, leaning against the counter that separated the living room from the kitchen.

Schlatt hummed to pretend he was paying attention while pressing into his stomach a few quick times. Short short long. Long long long, long short long. ‘U-O-K-?’ He knew Charlie could translate it, he was the one that taught Schlatt Morse code. He was waiting for two taps back; their signal for yes. Hell, he’d even take one tap for no, something. Hopefully, Charlie would get the hint that he was ok.

“…Schlatt?” Ted questioned, again snapping Schlatt out of his worries again. Right. The act. “Sorry, must’ve zoned out, what were you saying?” “I was saying I’m here for a reason. You’re not the only one of my friends in the area, but surprise! I’m staying down here for a few months to do content!” Ted looked to Schlatt expectantly, and Schlatt did his best to be happy for Ted, but he was sure his smile looked forced. He didn’t know if it was his worry for Charlie or just the direction the conversation was headed in, but he had a sinking feeling in his gut that he knew wasn’t Charlie’s fault. He did his best to ignore it. “That’s great, man! Sounds like it’ll be fun.” “That’s the goal.” Ted answered. “Do a couple collab videos, some vlogs, it’ll be sick-” “Mhm.” Schlatt responded while Ted continued talking, tapping out the morse again. And again. And again for good measure. If this wouldn’t get Charlie to do something, anything, then something was wrong. He waited a few seconds before beginning the pattern again with more force, starting to wonder if Charlie had just passed out at that point, until-

Something. An arm or leg or something kicking out where he’d been pressing in, hard, and he recoiled his hand away immediately with a wince of pain. Charlie packed way more of a punch than Tubbo or Tommy did, that’s for damn sure. He wanted to try communication again, though he was smart enough to realize that his physical gestures were not appreciated in the slightest. So he did nothing and waited. He waited a few seconds, maybe even a few minutes, until, finally…he felt two weak taps back.

~~~

Falling headfirst into the pitch black stomach of his best friend was about as pleasant as Charlie expected it would be.

Immediately almost all of his senses were absolutely fucked, the wetness and humidity of the air around him clinging to his skin and fogging his glasses. The spongey walls around him gave way far too easily for him to properly get his balance, and he kept face planting into the bottom of the organ every time he tried to right himself. There was also liquid up to his waist (water, spit, he didn’t know, nor did he care to at the moment) which he kept almost fucking drowning himself in since he couldn’t stay upright long enough or see enough to figure out which way was up, down, forwards, backwards-

The walls suddenly pressed in on him, making Charlie squeak in fear almost inaudibly, pinning him in place thankfully right side up and out of the water, and he realized he was shaking. Why was he shaking? He was fine, he knew that, he knew that, why was he scared? He trusted Schlatt, this wasn’t even the human’s idea, it was his, he chose this.

The walls slowly began to release their hold on him as his thoughts started to suffocate him more than the stomach could ever.

Why, why the fuck was this so awful for him? He was safe, safe, he knew it was safe, he’d seen this happen a hundred times.

The walls began to press in periodically.

He’d willingly hung out with Schlatt and Quackity both when he knew that they had Tubbo inside. Tubbo was fine then, so he’s fine now. Science. Logic. He was safe. He wasn’t food. He wasn’t food.

short short long

Schlatt cared, cared enough about his safety to let him use his body as a barrier between him and someone who could hurt him. Would hurt him. His body. His giant, dangerous body that had been able to swallow him. His body that could kill him at any moment.

long long long

But he wouldn’t. Schlatt cared. He wasn’t food. He was safe. He was safe. Safe within his human friend. Safe from his human friend. Guarded inside a creature that could kill him from a creature that could kill him.

long short long

But his human friend wouldn’t kill him. But his human friend would, almost did, kill him.

The walls were still closing in on him.

Fuck. No, wrong human, Schlatt wants to protect him. Schlatt is his friend. Ted is his friend, their friend.

The walls are closing in periodically. Again and again.

He’s suffocating.

Ted would, almost did, kill him. He almost drowned, was almost swallowed, if it hadn’t been for Schlatt. He was almost swallowed. He was almost swallowed. He was swallowed. He was swallowed, he had been swallowed-

Something pressed in on the stomach again hard enough to force the wall to make contact with him, and in his hysterics Charlie kicked it as hard as he could manage, hearing a sharp hiss of pain be sucked into the lungs above him. Fuck. No, fuck, what is he doing? This is Schlatt. Schlatt. Schlatt, who’s never been anything but good to him, who’s treated him with nothing but respect despite what he was, who raised a borrower child and did a damn good job of it, too. Why…why was he acting like this? He trusts Schlatt, he’s literally thrown his life into Schlatt’s hands more times than he can count, why…why was this so much more difficult?

Fuck, focus on the task at hand. Deep breaths. 4, 7, 8. Again, 4, 7, 8. Charlie forced himself to think of the things around him. Liquid, heat, the weird spongey walls that had been caving in. There’s a good place to start. With the fog of his hysteria clearing, Charlie tried to remember what the pattern of the walls pressing in was. Short short long…long long long…long short long. Charlie let out a breathy, humorless laugh. “You ok?” Schlatt had been asking. He suddenly felt a little bit dumb for his panicked state earlier.

Struggling to push himself to what he was now sure was the front of the stomach with his legs still weak from fear, he settled himself against the wall to better hear exactly what was going on outside. Finally, he answered Schlatt’s question by tapping back twice, letting the human know he was ok, even if the shaking hadn’t quite let up yet. He laughed to himself again, this time more genuinely, as he heard the immediate sigh of relief from above him.

Yeah, he was sure he was safe.

~~~

Charlie was ok. Holy fuck, Schlatt could have cried with relief. He didn’t hurt his best friend, that was a weight off his shoulders. “I did want to talk with you about something though, just to get your opinion on it.” “Sure, what’s up man?” Schlatt said, attention fully on Ted for the first time in this whole conversation. “It’s about Charlie.”

Schlatt froze, and he could feel Charlie tense up. “Uh…what about him?” “I just, i don’t know…it’s hard to explain.” Ted frustratedly motioned with his hands and tried to explain more before sighing. “Did i do something wrong?” Ted said, a genuine look of confusion and hurt in his eyes. “Everytime we talk, it’s fine. We’re friends, and we have been for a while, and I know he’s on the same page as me. But any time I ask him anything vaguely personal, even if it’s just shit like his hair color or mcdonald’s order or fucking anything, it’s like we’re back to being strangers. Like I don’t have the right as his friend to know shit like that. The only thing I know about him is his first name and honestly? It wouldn’t even bother me if he wasn’t so close with you.” Schlatt hadn’t expected that, and from what he could tell of Charlie relaxing and pressing closer into the front wall of his stomach to hear more, he hadn’t expected it either. “Ted, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just…well, for one, Charlie has known me for a lot longer than he’s known you. Of course he’s more comfortable with me. But it’s not that he doesn’t trust you or anything. I promise he considers you one of his best friends. Even when it’s just us talking, he’s never said anything about you that would imply anything else.” “It’s not that I don’t believe that, but I just…sorry, maybe I’m being selfish here. If he doesn’t want to meet me it’s not my business to pry, it’s just something I’ve been thinking about a lot recently.” Ted finished, staring down at his hands. Schlatt…wasn’t sure where to go from there. He felt horrible for keeping such a massive secret from one of his oldest friends, especially about something that’d clearly been causing so much inner turmoil, but he couldn’t betray Charlie like that.

“Schlatt, can you hear me?” Charlie suddenly interjected. Schlatt discreetly tapped his stomach twice for confirmation and Charlie continued. “Ok, then i’m gonna need you to repeat after me, got it?” Schlatt tried not to let the confusion he felt read on his face for Ted to see, but he tapped twice again anyway. He sat in silence for a few seconds before Charlie took a deep breath and started talking.

“But, y’know, Charlie and I were talking about doing something with the podcast soon. We were gonna bring it up to you later, but since you’re in town we could move it up.” Schlatt repeated, and Ted looked up, puzzled. “What were you thinking?” Charlie paused again breathing deeply, though Schlatt could feel his tail swaying in anxiety. However, when he finally spoke up, his voice read nothing but confidence. “We were thinking we could do a few in person recordings.”

Schlatt froze. Had Charlie said what he thought he said? No way in hell was he serious. “Repeat it, Schlatt. I’ve thought it through, i mean it.” Holy shit he was serious. And so, he repeated. God, he wished that Charlie had been able to see the look of utter shock on Ted’s face. “You’re joking.” He said, and Schlatt shook his head while waiting for the next prompt. “Charlie wants to meet you, he’s just…afraid he won’t live up to your expectations.” Schlatt repeated, and Ted scoffed. “Please, that’s the least he should be concerned about. At this point the guy could be a serial killer and I’d still be thrilled to meet him.” Schlatt could tell when the truth hit him fully, because Ted’s expression brightened tenfold. He looked like he’d just won the lottery. “I just, I can’t believe it! Holy shit, I’m gonna meet the Charlie Slimecicle!” “Yeah, me either.” Charlie sighed and Schlatt repeated, though he said it for both of them.

After some more casual conversation about Ted’s plans and ideas for the newly decided live podcast recording, Ted finally said goodbye, promising to let Charlie know how excited he was. Schlatt let out a breath of relief he didn’t even know he was holding when Ted shut the door behind him. He locked it immediately and turned to lean back against the door. “Holy shit that was stressful.” “You’re telling me.”

Schlatt facepalmed as the weight of what he’d just signed on to doing hit him, sliding his way down the door into a sitting position. Charlie felt his stomach drop at the action as well. “Sooo…” Charlie started, lightly kicking at the wall in front of him. “This is weird.” “Very.”

Silence.

“Are you ok?” “Huh?” “Are you ok.” Schlatt repeated. “…yes.” Charlie answered,not exactly confidently, but surely. “I am now, at least. I just…panicked. It’s fucking weird in here and I just- it just took me a bit to handle it, I think. To get over myself cause I know it’s safe and I trust you. It’s just that the idea of getting eaten has been drilled into my head as ‘horrifying and deadly’ for so long that I just lost it for a bit. Fun part of being raised by a traditional colony, am I right? Sorry for kicking you, by the way.” “Don’t worry about that, man.” Schlatt responded, lightly pressing in on his stomach as if asking Charlie if he was ok with contact now. When he didn’t get a negative response from Charlie, he pressed a bit harder and began rubbing where he felt his friend. “I can’t even imagine what you’re feeling like right now. I mean, getting swallowed whole? By a creature over ten times bigger than you? That sounds downright fuckin terrifying. That’s some hollywood horror movie bullshit. I don’t even want to imagine what me choking on you felt like from your point of view. I have the easy job, you got eaten alive, you have every right to have panicked. But…I am glad you trust me that much.” “Thanks, cause I do. And for the record; i’m feeling wet. Very wet and sticky and I can just tell that my fucking glasses are fogged up even though it’s dark enough that i shouldn’t care, but i do.” Charlie complained, making Schlatt laugh.

More awkward silence.

“Why the fuck did you do that??” Schlatt asked suddenly, and Charlie groaned, pushing his glasses into his face with the heels of his palms. Despite the lack of clarification, he knew exactly what Schlatt was asking about. “I don’t know, dude, I panicked! I just…” Charlie sighed, dropping his hands. “He deserves to know. And no better time than the present, I guess. Besides, I have actually been thinking about it. Maybe if he takes it well, we can make it public and some fans will be able to see that we borrowers aren’t what they think we are.” “And if he doesn’t?” “I…I don’t know.” Charlie admitted. “I want to think that he’ll try to change how he thinks of me for the sake of our friendship, but I truly just don’t know.”

“Well, I’m behind you, whatever happens.” Schlatt said. Charlie smiled. “I know.” he answered, confident and happy in knowing that he truly did believe that.

#OH MY GOD ITS DONE #YIPPEE #THIS IS MAYBE THE MOST DIFFICULT TIME IVE HAD WRITING ANYTHING #i’m so glad this is done lol #cyncerity #mcyt gt #mcyt g/t #dad’s troubles au #cynwrites #tiny!charlie #tiny!slimecicle #giant!schlatt #giant!ted #soft vore #safe vore #g/t vore #tw vore

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i-want-tennis-ball · 2 months ago

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HAPPY TENNISVERSARY!!! 🎾🎉😝

And, thank you!

When this blog started, never in a million years could I have guessed what it would become. I thought, at most, a few people would come by, laugh at me for like a week, and then forget me and move on to the next big gimmick blog. And, most definitely, that’s where I would be if not for the lovely, dedicated, passionate people I ran into.

Here’s a quick history lesson, with many thankyous scattered within..

It all really started when my lovely friend Sam, who doesn’t use tumblr, suggested I create a new gimmick blog where every day all I said was “I want ___” (with the tags, of course, all reading, “I want ___”.) I decided on tennis ball, and for about a week I vigilantly workee to ensure a tennispost every day. And things were good, then, if a little quiet, until I decided to start a reblog chain with myself, @sophiamoment , where I’d ask “what the fuck is your blog” and then my side blog would just say “I want tennis ball”.

Now, as you could probably tell, I didn’t put too much care into the post at the time. I broke character, forgot to edit out the heaps of evidence that we were the same person, replied to my own post way too many times, but THEN.

My first mutual, @somewhere-south-of-neutral , tagged @i-say-ok , who FUCKING RESPONDED. (guess what they said lmao)

This brought lots of attention to that particular post, first by the I say Ok community, then by another gimmick blog reblogging, and then by THAT gimmick blog’s community, and so on. To this day my one goal in life is to relive that pure excitement, joy, and just a little horror I felt when I saw just how far that post was breaking beyond containment.

Honestly, if you’d asked me then, I’d assume that from there my blog shoulda died, but then. ohoHOH.

A blog whose URL I forget going by A Tennis Ball responded.

I promptly created @another-tennis-ball in response.

And then things went, as my gramma would say, hog wild.

Today, we’ve got a masterlist of tennis ball roleplay blogs longer than my list of flaws. We’ve got active, inactive, sometimes-active accounts, all of whom have had fun just.. talking, pretending to be tennis balls, just having a good time. (Even my parents got involved!) There’s a discord, a lore doc, an upcoming crossover w/ a DND campaign my friend wrote(?!)

And, here we are today.

All I can really say is THANK YOU!

Thank you to those of you who passed by and spread the one infamous “what the fuck is your blog” post. Thank you to everyone who’s gotten involved and paved the way to this community. THANK YOU TO MARC, WHOS URL I FORGET, WHO IS CARRYING THE LORE RN!!

I love you all so much, thank you for being here & turning my shitpost into a reality.

#i want tennis ball #tbcu #not lore #but also lore???#Happy tennisversary #ooc #1 YEAR

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musingsbycaitlin · 1 year ago

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HEY! Writeblr Intro!!!

Hi, my name is Caitlin, and I’m a third year Creative Writing student in rainy England. I’ve got a couple WIPs but none are set in stone so you’ll have to bear with me for a while haha.

- I’m here for a good time so my writing is solely based on my mood and vibe at the time, please do not expect consistency.

- I write short stories mainly but am trying to branch out into novels so you’ll hopefully be seeing a bit more of that in the future.

- I am a university student with anxiety and decision fatigue so things change drastically around here every so often but I promise if I go quiet I will come back.

Let’s get into the WIPs (these will be constantly edited and changing) and feel free to ask me any questions about any of them, even ones that might have been removed from this list if you’re interested.

IF I GIVE UP, SO MUST YOU - a Wild West literary fiction novel

STATUS: currently drafting (on hiatus)

GENRE: literary fiction, sapphic romance(?)

CURRENT WORD COUNT: 3,995

Okay, so a bit of info about this project. I started writing it a bit ago purely because I wanted to write a Wild West novel and then it turned sapphic and then it became literary. It follows an unnamed narrator as she navigates life outside of her small town after she is targeted by bandits in a raid. A coming of age novel that explores what it means to figure things out for yourself whilst battling with false truths engrained into your from a young age.

NIGHT SWIMMING (working title) - a short story collection

STATUS: literally haven’t even started :/

GENRE: literary, horror, surrealist

This collection is my version of NaNoWriMo this year because there is no way I can feasibly write a novel in a month where I also have to write my dissertation first draft and three other short stories like no. I’m hoping to do an update on my page whenever a story is complete, so I will also update this section to include the names of all the stories going in. Stay posted is all I’m saying ;). All I know is I want it to explore the everyday in a surrealist way (as most of my stories do).

DAMAGED GOODS - a dystopian sci-fi novel

STATUS: currently drafting (on hiatus)

GENRE: dystopian, sci-if, speculative

CURRENT WORD COUNT: 2,323

So, I haven’t done an intro post to this yet simply because I had to put it to one side once university started again. A brief summary is this: Auden, an average guy, husband, and father, has gotten into a dreadful car accident. In this society, however, surgery is replaced with metal transplantation. Due to Auden’s extensive injuries, he now must live in suburbia with a completely metal head, arm, and leg.

I’m super happy with this concept and the initial 2,000 words I’ve got I’m pretty okay with. The main issue is where to take it and if it will be a full novel or more of a novella.

EAT YOUR YOUNG - a gothic horror novella

STATUS: currently drafting

GENRE: gothic horror

CURRENT WORD COUNT: 4,950

I haven’t done an intro for this project because I honestly wasn’t sure I’d return to it but the spooky season is upon us and I really want to get back into writing this. Brief Summary: Mr Gerard is an accountant hired by the Heron Manor estate to deal with the affairs of the three sisters residing there after a mysterious death of the man of the house.

This is going to me my main personal priority other than my short stories for now and I’ll try to get an intro out soon.

Okay, so that’s all for me folks. Like I said, any questions please feel free to send me an ask or a message, don’t be a stranger. As a writer I always wanna talk about my projects, OCs, and anything else writing craft related!

I’m tagging some mutuals, if you wish to be tagged or removed :( - let me know x

@annlillyjose @dallonwrites @aesa @winterandwords @iannicellis @isherwoodj

#writeblr #my writing #writeblr intro #wip #short fiction #lit fic

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phynali · 2 years ago

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Tumblr tip sheet for twitter refugees

i’ve seen a lot of different advice posts but none that had what i consider all the key advice in one spot, so here we are. long post ahead.

1. your dash can be put into reverse chronological order and it is a BETTER experience if you do that

Go to your settings -> Dashboard -> Preference

Turn “Best Stuff First” OFF

2. you can (and likely should!) turn off algorithmic content

Under the same menu. Settings -> Dashboard -> Preferences

There are two algorithms on tumblr.

One is “In your orbit” and I fucking hate it. i want to see the content that I like, not that some random person i follow likes. if i wanted to see that content on my dash, i’d follow the people who put it there.

The other is “based on your likes” and it is hilariously bad because if you like a post for something you don’t normally like or follow (e.g., when I watched a new movie and liked one post about it), you’ll suddenly get a dozen posts about that thing and only that thing.

I keep it on because it’s hilariously bad, but i honestly recommend turning it off. it routinely recommends shit to me that i hate and i have to keep telling it that i am “not interested in this post” for things tagged with my nOTP, but until / unless i filter that ship tag out entirely, i will keep being serviced those

3. filtering / blacklisting is your friend

this is true on every platform, not just tumblr. i’m sure veteran twitter users are well-versed in it, but just as a reminder. you will be expected to filter your own content/dash here on tumblr, and if you complain about seeing something that was properly tagged, you will be rightly mocked as a clown.

Settings -> Account -> Content You See

you can filter both tags and post content. There’s a completely innocuous post i absolutely hate that does rounds and is never tagged, and i almost unfollowed a mutual for how much i hate that post and them reblogging it so much. but i typed a specific sentence from that post into the “filtered post content” options and BOOM - haven’t seen it since. glorious.

4. content controls are your friend

under the same “Content You See” menu. You are automatically opted OUT of seeing this stuff, so you MUST opt in to see mature content.

you’ll want to determine your own preferences, but i prefer to see all of the mature content types that may be hit with a community label.

5. long posts are (probably) your friend

tumblr cuts posts over a few lines if you have this turned off, and it’s really annoying and really truncates your experience of the website. THIS is itself a long post!

part of the quintessential tumblr experience is being annoyed by the “do you love the color of the sky” post.

seriously, this isn’t twitter. we aren’t here for 280 character bite-sized posts. i 10/10 recommend keeping long posts on.

Settings -> Dashboard -> Interface

6. blog-specific settings

there is also a menu for additional settings (including updating the appearance etc) for each blog you have (your main, and any sideblogs).

this is near the end of your options under Settings -> Blog Settings (click the individual blog to update)

under your blog settings you can...

- enable your custom theme (which you should! this is turned off for new users but personalizing your page is part of the experience)

- decide if you want people to know what posts you’re liking and who you’re following. i do NOT, so these are off. internet privacy is allowed on tumblr, and don’t let anyone bully you into thinking you need to make everything public for their supervision. consume all the problematic content your little gremlin content desires and tell people to fuck off if they take issue with that.

- determine if and how others can interact with your blog!! there some settings about asks, messaging, tipping (if you’re here to make $$), whether people can even SEE your blog, if it’s searchable, etc. tumblr gives power and control back to the users! use that power!

here, you can specifically set your “Ask” preferences to on or off, and to accept or NOT accept asks from anonymous users / logged out users.

if you’re here to interact with friends or just vibe, or don’t reblog a lot of asks games or encourage anon inbox messages, and/or especially if you’re getting harasment and don’t want to deal with shitty users, it is okay to turn off anons, and i ENCOURAGE you to do so.

i keep it on for my fandom sideblogs and off for my main and this makes me happy. do what makes you happy.

7. etiquette and interface

- change your icon so no one thinks you’re a bot

- reblog posts so your account isn’t empty. also, with algorithmic content turned off by most users, YOU are the algorithm, and interaction on this website is strongly encouraged. making or reblogging posts part of the experience and sort of the whole point

- reblog tagging: individual preferences apply. instead of adding a comment on a reblog, users will often add their thoughts in a tag, if they aren’t specifically looking to engage in a dialogue or add on to the post itself. other users can then decide to copy their tags (often with “prev” for “previous” appended) or even copy/paste them into a comment on their reblog, which is your tags “passing peer review”. people also tag to index posts so their blog is more searchable, and to include trigger warnings and content warnings related to a post. you can also choose to not tag anything. it’s your blog, do what you want.

- tags are how people find new content. if you make a new post and want people to find it, they will be searching the tag related to that content, so tag it accordingly. people can also follow tags and get notifications when new posts are made into that tag.

- do not censor words! this isn’t tiktok or twitter. we say ‘fuck’ and ‘kill’ here. if you write “unalive” or censor swears or triggers, people’s content filters do not work, and you will have undermined their ability to curate their content, moderate their experience, and avoid triggers. don’t do that. just spell out the whole goddamn word, please.

- you can make sideblogs under a single account! this means you have your main, which you interact (like, reply, and follow) from, but which can be used to have a space for all your posts and reblogs on a given topic (fandom, hobby, fixation, whatever). you can also direct message to/from a sideblog and accept asks etc.

- if you use tumblr in your browser, there is an add-on called XKIT. this used to be a tumblr user staple and allowed for a lot of functionality that tumblr didn’t used to have. tumblr has since very much upped their game, but it can still be worth using XKIT if you’re regularly in a browser and not on the app. for example, it includes some ad-blocking capabilities. I use “New Xkit” and have a few personalized settings with it.

- posts go around forever on this site and new memes crop up every day, retreat, and then resurge out of the blue randomly. this makes for tumblr-wide in-jokes that circulate for years, like “do you love the color of the sky” and the “color theory children’s hospital” post. if you don’t get these, you can ask and i’m sure tumblr will deliver, but you can also wait around and follow more people and these will turn up eventually.

- your dash is what you make it. your interaction is what you make it. you have control, you are not at the mercy of algorithms and advertisers if you don’t want to be. paying for ad-free browsing is an option. they even give you the option to toggled your ad settings within ad-free browsing. seriously - you. have. the. control.

this is something that we love about tumblr and one of the things that makes it our hellsite (affectionate) instead of our hellsite (derogatory). if you’re finding your experience to be negative but still want to stick around, i encourage you to block accounts or content that makes you unhappy or anxious, to follow the accounts that bring you joy, and to adjust your settings into whatever makes you happiest and least stressed out.

#tumblr #twitter #twitter refugees #tumblr tips #fellow tumblr veterans what did i miss?#long post #long post for ts #ts was tumblr savior aka an extension from about a decade ago that people used for content filtering #i think before xkit existed?#and some of us still use the 'for ts' tags because people use to blacklist/filter content based on that wording #i guess it's not really needed for long posts anymore since people can turn those off in their dash preferences now #but old habits die hard #anyway this barely touches on the unique tumblr culture but i hope that culture sticks around despite an influx of new users

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eyelessfaces · 2 years ago

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packing

santiago garcia x reader

summary: you're moving out. santi helps you packing, and it's the perfect occasion to finally talk about everything unsaid between the two of you.

warnings: mentions of sextoys for some reason....... don't look at me like that. sexy times mentionned and implied, the fic fades to smut so it kinda starts but nothing too steamy

tags: f!reader, mutual pinning, friends to lovers

word count: 1.8k

masterlist | taglist | ao3

“Heard you needed help. I’m your man” were Santiago’s words before he winked at you and stepped into your half empty apartment.

You moved out at the beginning of next week, and because the laziness got the best of you you now had to rush to finish packing your stuff.

You had started when you were determined, all energy gone once your back hurt at the end of your first day of packing, and you hadn’t continued since. And this was your mistake.

You could have been wiser and you could have started packing gradually, a bit every day but no– procrastinating had sounded so much better to your “it’s cool, I still have time” ears.

You had started panicking when you realized it was Saturday already, so you had called your friend group in hope that they could help you get this covered, except they all happened to be conveniently busy. Except for one of them.

“I heard Santi’s available” was Frankie's casual reply when you called him to ask for his help, and you swore you had heard him smirk over the phone when he said this.

You honestly doubted Frankie, Benny and Will all happened to be busy, and you firmly believed that for a good reason; they had been doing their best to isolate you and Santiago since you had kissed at Benny’s birthday party.

Even though you had tried to resonate with them by telling them that you were both drunk and that this kiss probably didn’t mean much to Santiago, they had been actively keeping on trying to get the two of you to have a conversation about it.

Except as of now, packing was your priority.

“Thank you for coming to help me. I’ve been procrastinating doing this and I don’t know if I’d be done by tomorrow night doing this all by myself” you sighed, picking up an empty cardboard box and throwing it to Santiago.

He caught it and pinched a smile.

“No problem hermosa, you know I’m more useful helping you here than watching TV naked on my couch. Where do I start?” he asked, walking through your living room and looking at the boxes you had already packed used to support the TV, since you had already emptied and packed your TV stand.

“Would be nice if you could finish the bookcase next to the couch. You can put the CDs with the books, just name the box with both” you instructed, picking up the marker from the floor and handing it to him.

“Yes ma’am” he smiled taking the marker from your hand in a swift motion, determined to start his job and to do it right. Maybe the other boys not being here would actually profit you and you would be faster with your task, no distractions around.

“You know you’re not getting out of here without explaining why you watch TV naked” you said going back to the kitchen where you had started packing all your cooking tools. It was a kitchen opened on the living room, so you were not far from each other.

He chuckled. “Well because why not” he replied as he sat on the floor to empty the lower part of the bookcase.

“Why” you insisted, placing your cooking tools strategically in the box so everything would fit perfectly.

“You know I’m not the only one who does it. I mean– staying home naked. Frankie does it too. Well not anymore since his daughter was born but he used to do it”

“Bless that kid” you chuckled. “Still doesn’t answer my question” you asked looking back at him.

“It’s comfortable” he shrugged. “Things swaying freely” he said turning to look at you, a smirk on his face.

“Okay I’ll stop asking questions” you laughed shaking your head.

An hour and a half later Santiago had finished packing your living room, leaving only the couch and TV surrounded by cardboard boxes. You were also almost done with the kitchen except for a few cabinets and of course still leaving out the essential: a few forks, knives and spoons, and a few glasses and plates.

“Need help for the kitchen?” he asked, sitting on the counter.

“Yep, I was about to empty my mug cabinets. I have a lot” you nodded. You grabbed another cardboard box and sighed when you looked around but didn’t find what you were looking for. “Fuck can you get me the bubble wrap? I must have left it in my bedroom when I was packing the perfume bottles in my drawers”

“Sure be right back” you thanked him before starting to get the mugs out of the cabinet, placing them on the counter waiting for him to come back to start wrapping them.

Santiago went into your room and searched for the roll.

Walking towards your bed, he saw something looking like what he was looking for peeking out from under your bed, it had probably rolled and gotten under there accidentally.

He kneeled down to pick it up, noticing a black plastic box placed under your bed. He chuckled to himself before the pain in his knees reminded him that he couldn’t stay in this position for long, grabbing the bubble wrap roll and standing back up.

“Nice sextoys collection” he threw with a smug smile as he came back to the kitchen, handing you the bubble wrap roll.

You almost dropped the mug between your hands. “Wha– don’t tell me you–”

“No, but now I have the confirmation that it’s really your toy box” he laughed, and even harder when he saw your startled and slightly embarrassed face.

“You want a medal or something” you chuckled, taking the roll from his hands, your own hands not even capable of functioning correctly. You would definitely be losing some mugs after that.

“Hey don’t be embarrassed” he nudged your side. “Ever used them with someone else?” he asked leaning against the counter.

“Jeez Santi” you laughed. You looked at him and rolled your eyes. “Tried to. The guy didn’t want to because he saw it as its enemy. Turns out its enemy did a way better job than him afterwards” you explained wrapping one of your least favorite mug so you wouldn’t regret it if it slipped from your slightly trembling hands.

“Mh I see” he said reaching to grab one of the mugs to help you wrap them. “You just haven’t tried with the right guy yet” he sighed, turning to look at you.

You focused on arranging the box correctly to avoid his gaze as your cheeks heated at his words, trying to discard the feeling. “Probably” you mumbled. Probably.

—

Santi plopped down on your couch, a low grunt leaving his mouth as he did so.

You wiped your forehead with the back of your hand, exhaling in relief.

You were done. It seemed impossible, but here you were, everything packed.

“Wanna drink something as a reward?” you offered before you could sit down for good.

“Got a beer?” he asked raising his eyebrows.

“Yup” you said turning around to grab them from your refrigerator.

You uncapped them and sat down on your couch next to him, handing him his beer. He clinked his bottleneck against yours and you smiled, taking a sip before letting out another sigh of relief.

“Seriously, thank you. I couldn’t have done it without you” you declared smiling at him, and he finished his sip before smiling back at you.

“Eh if I hadn’t helped you who would have?” he rhetorically asked, chuckling.

“Right” you sighed, remembering the sarcastic exclamation point at the end of Benny’s message when he said he couldn’t come, Will’s fake pondering face when he did a quick review of his schedule when you called him on facetime, and of course Frankie suggesting Santi’s presence.

“You know they’re not really busy right” he questioned, turning to you and leaning his arm against the back of your couch. You threw a single nod before taking a sip of your beer. “You know they just want us to figure out what’s going on between us, right?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You sighed and looked over at him. “I know. I think they made that obvious”

He scratched the light stubble on his chin and put his beer down on the floor before returning to his previous position.

“Then what’s going on between us?” he asked tilting his head, and he smiled when he saw you chuckling. “What? I think we should give them what they want or they’re never gonna stop” he shrugged.

“Okay.” you cleared your throat before going further. “Well, I don’t know what’s going on between us but I liked kissing you” you admitted, immediately taking a sip of your beer after delivering your words. You were almost embarrassed at how fast your heart was beating.

He smugly smiled and looked you up and down.

“As friends?” he asked playfully, throwing his chin at you.

“Dunno, you?” you asked, mirroring his smile, putting your beer down on the floor too. You looked back at him and he shrugged.

“Well all I can tell you is I was drunk but I think I know what I was doing” he said with a single nod, pinching his lips into a small smile. “And I enjoyed it.”

“That’s good to know” you replied playfully, your gaze going back and forth between his lap and his face. “You’d do it again?”

“Do what?”

“Kiss me, idiot” you chuckled, planting your elbow against the back of the couch.

“Question or order?” he asked rhetorically, a smirk plastered on his face. You playfully hit his arm when you realized you had been tricked, and he nudged your side. “Answer the question”

Your face inched closer to his, and you tilted it slightly before answering. “Order” your voice was barely louder than a whisper.

His thumb and forefinger grasped your chin after your implied consent, and it took him a very short time to press his lips against yours once he was sure you both wanted it.

He kissed you and he knocked the air out of your lungs, your hands buried in his graying curls and his hands traveling up and down your curves.

You made out intensely, laying down on your couch, his body hovering over yours as he practically fucked his tongue into your mouth.

“If that wasn’t abundantly clear, not as friends, no” you panted against his slightly swollen lips once you pulled away for air.

“Good. Good choice” he said biting down on his bottom lip, laughing when you yanked his face down to kiss him again. He kneaded one of your breasts while his tongue plunged in your mouth, his thumb brushing against your hard nipple, and you moaned in his mouth as a result.

He pulled away from your mouth, his own shifting towards your ear.

“Hey I thought maybe we could make some use of that box under your bed. It’s not packed yet after all” he whispered, unable to cover the devilish grin on his face or the excitement in his voice.

And in his pants, too.

—

masterlist | taglist | ao3

triple frontier taglist: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @mystinky-butt @beccabecs521

#santiago garcia #santiago garcia x reader #santiago pope garcia #santiago pope garcia x reader #santiago garcia fanfiction #santiago garcia fic #santiago garcia fanfic #triple frontier #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

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thef1diary · 10 months ago

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Ahh it’s finally happened!! I am so grateful for each and every one of you who decided to follow. Honestly this blog started off as just a little creative output for the writing thoughts I had about the f1 boys but it turned into something much more!

Now to celebrate, my requests are open and here’s a list of asks that you can send through

💌 Ask Questions: ask me about any of my past or future fics, general f1 questions, or literally anything. I’d be happy to answer and chat.

📋 Prompt List: want to request a fic but no idea where to start? Here’s a few links to some prompt ideas. Please copy the scene/dialogue you’d like me to include.

Smut-1 Smut-2 FWB prompts

Angst Angst-2

Domestic fluff Fluff-2

Note: you don’t have to list a specific prompt from the links above if you already have a request idea. The links are just for some inspiration

🎧 Song Requests: choose a driver, a song, and if you want smut, fluff, or angst and I’ll write a short fic.

✍🏻 Drabbles: have a specific scene in mind but don’t want the excess plot? Send a drabble idea. These would usually be under 1k words.

Note: I will include the fics from this celebration in my main masterlist, however each celebration related post can be found under this tag; #di celebrates

Tagging mutuals: @girldunner @sinofwriting @chrisdr3 @changetyre @dilemmaontwolegs @leclerc-hs @maplesyrupsainz @sbdskate

#di celebrates #1k celebration #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #reqs open

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imsoveryveryconfusedatlife · 2 months ago

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Tag Game: Writeblr Interview

Thanks @tildeathiwillwrite for the tag here!

I hesitate to tag as many people as this is one of those things where there’s no point in doing it twice but tagging:

@xenon-writes-sometimes, @rumeysawrites, @rivenantiqnerd, @leahnardo-da-veggie, @kaylinalexanderbooks, and an open tag!

This is going to be a long post so I’m adding a break here

Short stories, novels, or poems?

I cannot stand most poetry. Maybe it’s because I’m still in school and have to analyse it but I can’t deal with how abstract it can be. I want to write more short stories but my one and only WIP is probably gonna be closer to a novel, if and when I finish it.

What genre do you prefer reading?

Fantasy, especially high fantasy. Murder mysteries and detective stories in general are a close second. Most other genres are reserved for spin offs or fan fiction.

Are you a planner or a write as I go kind of person?

I make a plan that I then actively ignore my OCs force me to not use

What music do you listen to while writing?

Most of the time I listen to the one Reddit podcast I’ve listened to every episode of because I can zone out and I don’t miss anything important. This one is a bit of a bad habit because it distracts me, but EPIC the musical is my current hyperfixation and I listen to that constantly as well.

Favorite books/movies?

Because I have the reading comprehension of an 11 year old we have Murder Most Unladylike (I would die for this series), its spin off the Ministry of Unladylike Activity, The Hunger Games but only really the first book, How to train your dragon but only really the Netflix show and the first movie (the books are great but I haven’t read them in 7 or 8 years and because they’re so different from the movies I’m not sure if I’d like them anymore)

Any current WIPs?

Gold, Greed and Gods which is a vaguely Victorian fantasy about the main cast trying to find a cult before it engulfs the world in literal chaos. And also magical shenanigans and timeline fuckery

Create a character description of yourself:

Honestly I’d rather not. Sorry!

Do you like incorporating actual people you know into your writing?

No it kinda weirds me out. The closest I’ll get is asking my one irl mutual about their experiences with stuff that I (as a someone who is cishet and perisex) do not understand

Are you kill happy with your characters?

I’m not the biggest fan of angst so no. If anyone was gonna die you aren’t allowed to get attached to them so I don’t get attached them hence why the only dead characters in my WIP die before or very soon after it begins. That isn’t to say my characters aren’t affected, but I can only imagine any potential readers will be neither here or there about those characters.

Coffee or Tea while writing?

I don’t really like hot drinks but I hate the smell of coffee so tea?

Slow or fast writer?

A secret third thing which is I wrote 5000 words in 3 hours yesterday so for atleast the next week I won’t be able to string a sentence together

If you were in a fantasy world, what would you be?

A healer would be fun? I wanna be a doctor so I guess that’s close enough. I cannot imagine I’d survive very long without my glasses/ contacts in any case.

Most fav book cliche:

Not really a book cliche but horny bard memes will never not be funny. I also love juxtaposition between characters, if done tastefully, eg. Ray of sunshine is best friends/ dating the grumpiest character alive. I also just love ray of sunshine characters in general. Also, calm/ happy go lucky/ mentor figure characters who have really high body counts and it’s just kind of an open secret are really fun.

Least favorite cliche:

A lot of romance tropes are tied for last place: miscommunication, any reference or idea that firsts=better (virginity, first loves, one true love etc.), not like other girls

Also love triangles. The only good love triangles are the ones that end in polycules. No exceptions (/hj)

I probably just have a problem with like most romance stories

Favorite scene to write?

I love when characters reference unique worldbuilding things that I actually had to think about. Similarly, if I feel I’m doing them well, exposition dumps can be fun.

Reason for writing?

Because blirbos in my head yearn for freedom

On a more serious note, I’ve gotta do something healthy with all this escapism and maladaptive daydreaming.

—

Questions:

Short stories, novels, or poems?

What genre do you prefer reading?

Are you a planner or a write as I go kind of person?

What music do you listen to while writing?

Favorite books/movies?

Any current WIPs?

Create a character description of yourself:

Do you like incorporating actual people you know into your writing?

Are you kill happy with your characters?

Coffee or Tea while writing?

Slow or fast writer?

If you were in a fantasy world, what would you be?

Most fav book cliche:

Least favorite cliche:

Favorite scene to write?

Reason for writing?

—

Thanks again for the tag!

#This was fun!!#I didn’t expect that doing this would somehow curing my writers block a bit #writeblr #tag game #wip #writing #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity

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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.

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

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

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:

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:

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.

next chapter

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