#i clipped this for my boy scout husband

[foxyafroninja]

Random MW141 thoughts 💭 🤔=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=

💄 💅🏼The 141 boys get a makeover from their daughters 💅🏼💄

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Price🧔🏻‍♂️-

This kid…. Daddy’s princess  let me tell you. All she had to do was give him those puppy dog eyes and he was done for

You walked into the house hearing your daughter giggling like crazy. You come around the corner and nearly fall over laughing.

There sits your husband, bad ass tier 1 operator, scout sniper, leader of the deadliest group of people alive, eyes closed..with purple and pink eyeshadow coloring his beard, glitter on his eyelids and eyebrows, bright red lipstick smudged over his lips.

You start to pull your phone out to take a picture and without missing a beat Price points a finger directly at you, eyes still closed. “ Love… you are my world. But so help me if you take that picture.” …….. worth it *click*

Soap 🧼-

You needed a break from the twins so you put their father in charge so you could nap. When you woke up though…it was just a little too quiet. Never a good sign

You head to the girls room and freeze in the door. There is your husband being swarmed by your daughters. One putting sparkly hair clips in his mohawk, strawberry shortcake stickers on his face, red lipstick on his nose and blue lip gloss on his lips.

The other practually painting his hand in nail polish. Constantly complaining that her father “wasn’t sitting still “ and “messing me up”

Your belly laugh gave you away and upon seeing you Soap instantly turned the two on you. “ Well girls I’m so pretty I think your mum is jealous…. Why don’ you do her next”…. You were not able to outrun your husband.

Ghost 👻 -

The poor man never even had a chance. Simon had come back from a mission sick as a dog and took some medicine to help him get some sleep…. It was too easy a target.

You had left him on the couch sleeping for only 10 minutes. That was all your daughter needed to grab her markers and “make daddy pretty”

You came back to find her finishing her masterpiece drawing cat whiskers on Simon’s light blue, green and pink face. He looked like Pablo Picasso‘s worst nightmare. 

You wanted to be mad….but god damn was it funny. Oh you are SO sending this to the boys, they owe you big time for this…. When did Simon stop snoring….😨.

Alejandro 💃🏻-

Another man that was completely wrapped around that little girls finger. He would rather walk through hell fire then say “No” to this girl.

So here we are, Alejandro on the ground his daughter placing an obscene number of bows and clips in his thick hair. Holding a hand mirror saying how good he looks now.

Then came the lime green lipstick cheek highlights, the bumblebee yellow eyeshadow and finish with all over red poke-a-dots and glittery beard.

You stood in the kitchen the whole time laughing at the two of them together. After she was done he thanked her with a kiss, sent her to go clean up for dinner and then turned to you and flip his 20 or so bows at you “ You better watch it princesa. You have competition in this house now”

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Nothing and I’m mean NOTHING is more attractive than a father spending quality time with their daughter. I had fun coming up with this. I would have done more but I thought they were getting a bit repetitive.

[teslacoils-and-hubris]

IM SORRY YOURE SICK!!!! i hope you feel better soon that sounds like fucked up evil hell. Can i ask who yoir favorite tf2 character is and why? (assuming i am interpreting the requests for asks correctly!!!)

The annoying thing is I never usually get sick but when I do OH BOY it's never allowed to just be a small cold I always turn into a dying victorian boy with Every Disease

I'm hard pressed to pick a favourite anything honestly, but I'll give you my top three in no particular order

Scout. His failboy nature charms me. I want to chew on him like a dog that gnaws through a stick. I want to study him like a weird bug. There's a clip of an old movie that went around tumblr for a while of a woman slapping a man awake and then comforting him saying he had a nightmare and I want to do that to scout. I can even project onto him like an empty vessel. What can't he do?

Medic. Obviously. He stole a man's skeleton while keeping the man alive, and that's husband behavior if I've ever seen it. I'm the being Normal about surgery guy and he is KILLING it with the being TOTALLY NORMAL about surgery it would be weirder if I didn't like him. The burley beast.

And Engie. He's everything to mee he cut of his own hand he's a poliet southern man his go to solution is add more gun he's got 11 hard science phds there's something wrong with him (romantic)

Anyways I like all the mercs and honestly could go on (pains me not to include Pyro and miss p in this but alas. Am sleepy), but these guys are definitely Up There on the list lol one thing I'll give valve is they are good at making characters for me to obsess over in strange and unusual ways

[keeponquinning]

RJ, I'm wiping tears. I was at the last two paragraphs and tears just came out. Happy tears. Joyful tears. Tightness in throat. I'm still emotional as I write this.

I know I'll be gushing about your other fics ( i have some of them in drafts re; your celebration fics ) but this was the first series of yours I fell in love with and I'm sad to see it go but so HAPPY for our couple. This was something special and you should be so proud, and I'M proud and omg i'm getting misty still.

This took me a while to read and I honestly think it's because I wanted to savor this for a bit. Read it little by little. Because a part of me didn't want it to end.

Okay. Here we go.

DEEP BREATHS.

Okay but I love that while the friend group accepted Ralph and didn't think he was, what feels like would be their words, OFF THEIR ROCKER....I do appreciate that they also felt a bit betrayed that they were lied to for the majority of their friendship, like, that felt genuine and valid, but I'm also glad they forgave reader and ralph for it because they are the best friend group and Ralph being overwhelmed by it just chef's kiss. NO MORE SECRETS. NO MORE LIES. Adore it.

BRINGING BACK THE TIMEWASTERS WAS BRILLIANT!! I need to sit down and see it properly. Can you believe I loved Ralph and really just saw JQ's clips of him?? I know. Is that a plot twist? I do have the first season on my laptop and ways to watch it so that'll be my next JQ watch list. But nooo, even from the clips the voices felt so genuine, like RJ, you're such a great writer. AND LAUREN !! We still do not like Lauren, and GOOD ON RALPH not taking her up on her offer. He's Reader's man and we sticking to it. I especially loved Horace's bit all, "Who would be with me??" like... again, I've only seen clips but I could picture that so clearly. I think I love him best.

THEY GET A HOUSE?! A TOWNHOUSE?! IT'S WHAT THEY DESERVE!! All those nights, and months of first taking the couch, then sharing the bed, they get a PROPER HOME. And I LOVE THAT FOR THEM. Ralph getting better at cooking, I have flashes of him microwaving an egg suddenly! AND LOOK AT HIM NOW! Making Reader's favorite meal and being a good little chef! how husband of him!

Wicked reader wearing special bra and undies set just for him and distracting him like that. We love it. And the smut... THE SMUT IS CHEF'S KISS ARE YOU KIDDING. We are making up for that pillow princess of an escort Victoria had paid for him for his birthday. We love that he's prepared, how boy scout of him.

The sweet reminiscing of their time together 😭🥹 how far they've both come! And reader is totally a sap but do we blame them? NO. The sweet affect of Ralph Penbury and we love to see it. ( except we won't unless we request and we will request bc not peeking in on these two--don't cry, yve, don't cry ) Talking about marriage, babies, and oh god how I teared up at, "I know, I'm thinking of the same thing" from Ralph I....

This was a beautiful end to a beautiful series. Every time a chapter would hit, it was my favorite time. I knew I'd be in for a good read, and I was always right. I'm gonna get mushy but shut up and take it. This is more to the JQ fanfiction fandom but, I literally hadn't gone into reading fanfiction in like....not since my teen years, honestly. And then I found Eddie fanfics and it drew me back in so deep. And in that, I found this series, and I fell so in love with the writing, and story, and characters and just.... I'm going too hard on this but like, there's always been talk of like...lack of interaction, of engagement, and yeah. There's always that sense of why am I writing this when barely anyone reblogs, comments, gives love. RJ, I loved this series SO MUCH. I am CRYING rn lmao laughing and CRYING. You gave so much love and dedication to this, and it SHOWED, it was FELT and like from the bottom of my heart, THANK YOU for this. Not just for something to be read but to be inspired to write as well. I just.... thank you.

ugh, this reader, is for sure the biggest sap right now.

Thank you.

busy streets and busy lives • ralph penbury x reader

A strange day at work gets even stranger when you meet a man who claims he's from 1926. With no certainty as to when he can get back, you decide to take him in until that time arrives.

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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: 10.6k

A/N: 5½ months. 12 chapters. 107,600 words. All for a silly little idea I threw at my friends in a discord server. Thank you for being here. <3

Also, there's a part in this that's VERY reminiscent of a certain photo that released today. (spoiler alert, it's in the chapter card lol) I swear, I wrote that almost a week ago and the video just HAD to drop today of all days, DIDN'T IT. If Joseph Quinn is in my walls, please get him out of there. That's not a safe environment for him.

“Right, so, hang about…” Connor holds his hands out in front of him, moving one out to the side as if physically placing events into a timeline. “So, back in 192-whatever, Ralph meets Nick and that lot, who we went to school with, who have… Travelled through fucking time,” he sounds exhausted just at that phrase. You nod, and he moves his hand to continue, “Ralph falls head over heels for Little Lauren. That works about as well as anybody would expect,” he raises his eyebrows at Ralph, who shies away a little. “And Ralph joins the Army.”

“French Foreign Legion, to be exact,” Ralph pipes up.

“French Foreign Whatever, yeah,” Connor nods, moving his hand again. “He hates it, he runs away back home, he ends up meeting Homeless Pete.”

“Wait!” Grace’s boyfriend suddenly shouts, waving his hands around and making everyone jump. He points to Ralph. “That’s why your name’s always been in the back of my head! You lived in the fucking Waterstones building?!” Ralph nods. “So, you were filthy stinking rich, and you left that?!”

“Well, I… I may have left out some details about… I may have… Sort of given up most of my material possessions to Laur- the other Lauren,” he gestures to Connor’s girlfriend, who makes an expression that shows Ralph she understands that she’s not who he’s talking about. “Um, before I had left. Well, after I had left for the Army, but before I… Ended up here.”

“You were really down bad, weren’t you, mate?” Connor asks, cocking his head, and Ralph cowers back into his seat.

“Yes, well. That’s all well into the past now. Ninety-seven years in the past, to be exact!”

“Fucking mental,” Scott says under his breath. “Anyway, Connor, keep going with your…” He waves his hands in front of him.

“Yeah, so, you’ve not got nothing, Lauren rejected you and you still left her everythi- God, how did you survive without us?!” Connor shakes his head. “So you bump into H.P., who brings you to our time. You get rescued,” he gestures to you, “and…”

“Can I ask,” Scott’s partner raises a finger, looking at you. “What made you take him in, then?”

You look at Ralph and shrug. “I dunno, look at him! Who’d say no to that face?” You squish his cheeks in one hand, to his indignation, and you hear the soft laughs of your friends. “But… Yeah. Once I’d found H.P. and gotten as much of an explanation as I’ll ever get out of him, it was just… So much to wrap my head around. And I couldn’t just leave Ralph to the streets, he’d get killed!” Ralph suddenly looks very fearful, grabbing a cushion to hug to his chest. “And then next thing I knew, he was setting off alarms in the flat on his first day there, so I couldn’t exactly leave him home alone, so I had to bring him with me to Anna’s that night. I barely had the time to text you lot in advance, I couldn’t exactly leave you a voice note saying “by the way, time travel exists and I’m bringing a man who was born in the Victorian era, see you at 7!” And then the days were getting ahead of me, and I couldn’t even make any sense of it myself, let alone trying to teach any of you about it, either.”

“So, what, does he have to go back at any point? To like, restore the fragile balance of the time-space continuum or whatever sci-fi nonsense this actually proves?” Grace asks.

“Well, we thought so, and that’s why we were always so vague about him “going home”,” you explain. “But then, after Brighton, he almost - he could’ve gone home, and by all we knew back then, he should’ve -” You don’t see Ralph wince in pain at that word. “- but H.P. tol- well, told,” you hold up your fingers as air quotes, “Ralph that since the others had never returned to their own time, without consequence, he decided to stick around.” You smile comfortingly at him and he reaches out to hold your hand.

“Easily the best decision I’ve ever made,” he smiles back. “Staying with you, well, all of you!” He looks around the room. “I truly… I cannot put into words how deeply it hurt to omit the truth from you all for so long, but… Well, everything just seemed to be going so well for me, for once, and I feared that… To let that slip, I might… Lose you all,” he lets go of you to wring his hands in his lap. “Entirely selfish of me, I completely understand if you all think differently of me, now -”

Anna interjects with a sympathetic, “You’d have to do a lot worse to get rid of all of us.”

“Yeah, you’re the one stuck with us, Ralphie!” Scott jokes.

���I mean…” Lauren starts, pausing for a moment. Ralph’s face goes on an emotional journey of potential heartbreak, fearing he’s lost one of his best friends. Lauren remains stoic as she finally continues, “Yeah, it’s pretty shit that pretty much the foundation of why we’re friends is a lie.”

“Literally the only thing that Ralph and I kept quiet was the whole time travel thing, because, well, it still sounds stupid saying those words out loud,” you shake your head. “But everything else, it’s all been pure Ralph. Nothing else is based off any lies, it was just to… I mean, what would you have done if he’d have told you that night you met him, that he’d got here by getting in a lift with an old man in 1926 and ended up in 2022?!”

“I’d think he was off his tits,” Lauren admits in a quiet voice, much to Ralph’s confusion. “Yeah, alright, I guess, it’s… It’s complicated, innit?”

“Tell me about it,” you reply, exhausted, and the others laugh.

“It is a bit shit,” Connor acknowledges Lauren and then the pair of you. “But we’d all probably have done something similar. I mean, fuck me, I’d probably have left him with H.P. and let him be someone else’s problem. Good job I never found you first, eh!” Connor’s light-hearted smile falters at Ralph’s fearful look.

“Again, I completely understand if any of you feel duped into being my friend and wish to use your own agency to - just, please, direct all of your disappointment towards me and not -” 

“Ralphie, babes, we’re saying we get it. Kinda. I dunno, this is all messing with my head a bit,” Grace blows out a breath, and everyone makes general noises of agreement. “But of course we still wanna be friends with you, you big nelly!”

“Yeah, we love teaching you words and things you’d never know. Now that we know why, we can teach you way more!” Scott’s eyes glisten mischievously.

“I mean, I know I’m the one who technically turned you into a bit of a Swiftie, but I’m not letting go of that any time soon,” Anna jokes, which causes Ralph to finally let out a small laugh. “And besides, whose head am I gonna pat without you around?!”

“I never meant to deceive you all,” Ralph says quietly.

“We know,” Connor reassures in the same tone, “but you didn’t really trick us into anything. And hey, it could’ve been worse. I’d rather you were a secret time traveller than a secret serial killer!”

Ralph finally lets himself smile at Connor, who returns it. He sits up a little more confidently. “I can’t tell you what a relief it will be to never have to worry about what I say anymore!”

“I mean, still, this information can’t leave the people in this room,” you explain, gesturing around to everyone. “There’s all sorts of legalities that I’ve never been able to figure out, like a passport,” you gesture to Connor and Lauren, “or setting him up with a bank account, or medical stuff -”

“I mean, surely there’s people out there who were never registered at birth or whatever, right? Maybe we just play Ralph off as one of those?” Anna asks.

“Maybe. But who do we say he is? If we call him a Penbury, as in we try and say that he’s his own relative, his last technical record from 1926 is that he enlisted, went MIA and was presumed dead,” you shrug.

“Shit, yeah, your mum does all that stuff, doesn’t she? Have a look, see what his sister’s stuff says, maybe we can sneak him in that way,” Scott leans in, and everyone else starts shuffling closer, too.

Ralph, having been sat dumbfounded for several minutes, finally finds his voice. “Sorry, but now I’m the one who’s rather lost. So… Not only are none of you ousting me, you’re planning to deceive the law for me?!”

“Yeah, didn’t you hear Anna earlier? You’re family,” Connor smiles affectionately at him, and Ralph’s ears turn pink as his lower lip trembles.

You log into your mum’s ancestry account and once again look up Ralph’s name, your eyes going wide when you see the name next to him. “Okay, so Victoria’s got about six surnames, so I’m sure we can slip you in there somewhere,” you shake your head. Having only looked at his census before, you look through the data they have on Ralph and gasp loudly. Everyone’s gaze snaps to you as you flip your phone over to show them a photo of Ralph, dated February 1926, looking exactly how you remember he did the day you met him, dressed head to toe in Army uniform.

“Oh, you could totally say that you’d been digging up family stuff and you think you’re a dead ringer for… How many generations back would that be?” Anna asks.

You count on your fingers, “Okay, so 1901… Let’s say 30 years per generation, that’s like 3 to get to you being around our age… Which would make OG Ralph your potential… Great-grandpa.” You grimace at the same realisation that Connor and Scott come to, as they point and laugh at you.

“You’re dating someone old enough to be your -”

“He’s twenty-six! Please don’t make me think of it any other way!” You wince, making everyone laugh. “Three generations of unregistered babies is a bit of a stretch…” You shake your head. “Let’s just table this for now. He’s not going anywhere for the time being, are you?” You turn to ask Ralph, who violently shakes his head, still blinking his tears away. “There we go. So, let’s just let everything… Sink in, for now. And we’ll keep thinking of what to do in the long run.”

Ralph hugs everyone goodbye extra tightly. You offer an extra apology to all of your friends, yourself, but they all echo the earlier sentiments that they would have done the same if they were in such a predicament. That they probably would have talked you out of keeping Ralph fugitive for as long as you have. That, if anything, they’re grateful you never gave them the chance to advise you, because if you’d listened to them, none of you would have him in your lives, and one thing everyone in the room agrees on is that life’s been far better with him in it. You have to practically frog-march Ralph out of the door as he starts getting misty-eyed again.

Once you and Ralph are laying in bed, you cuddle up to him, wrapping your arm around his torso. “How you feeling, now?”

“I can’t feel much less than spectacular with you in my arms, my love,” Ralph smiles as he holds you even closer to him.

“Not just all the mushy stuff, you big sap,” you tease. “I mean, like, having to tell everyone.”

“Ah. Yes, well. That went far better than I ever imagined,” he admits softly.

“Wanna admit now that you mean a hell of a lot more to people now that you’ve found the right ones?” You look up at him with a grin.

He squeezes his arm around you to prompt you into leaning up to kiss him. Once you break away from him, he sighs happily. “I suppose, it’s a comfort to know what real friendship is supposed to feel like.”

“Exactly. You don’t give up on the right people. And you’re our right person,” you nuzzle into his neck and he buries his face in your hair.

“That sentiment is more than mutual. Goodnight, my love. Pleasant dreams.“

“Night, Ralphie. Love you, too.”

The next morning, you and Ralph both have the day off, a rare occurrence that you’re extra grateful for today. Of course, you’d love to spend it doing more of what you’d been doing just yesterday, but you’d rather be extra safe and get Ralph some protection, as well as your own birth control. And you needed to go into town for some other things, anyway. You decide to take Ralph with you, though - mostly, so that you can coach him into being able to buy his own condoms without spontaneously combusting on the spot.

Ralph wants to ask his boss something, too, so you head to the old high street where his shop is. While you do love his colleagues, you know that Babs will insist on you two staying for a cup of tea. And then another. And then she’s made you lunch. And then you’re spending your whole day off at Ralph’s workplace. Which honestly, has been fun when it’s happened before, but you do have things on your personal agenda today. And then when they’re done…

You wave to Babs through the shop window when you hear some vaguely familiar voices approaching.

“Nah, bruv, I think your mate Pete got his maths all mixed up, this ain’t when we left here.”

“Maybe we’re in whatever year he just wanted to come back to.”

“Nah, mate, I told him, clear as mud: take us back to the present day.”

“Okay, but Jase, you do realise we’ve travelled back and forth between multiple decades since -”

“Shhh, shut the fuck up, someone’s right there! We should just ask them.”

“Fantastic idea, sis. What do you want to do, rock right up and say, ‘Hello, completely normal and unaware person. Could you, for no strange reason whatsoever, happen to tell me what year it is?’?!”

You’d most certainly know that voice anywhere. Looking over at your high school crush, you smirk at Nicholas, his sister and his friends as you tell him, “March 15th, 2023.”

All four of them look incredulously at you. You can see some cogs turning behind their eyes until, finally, Jason shouts your name out. You grin and nod at him, and he yells, “Fuckin’ ’ell! How the fuck are you?!”

“Yeah, I’m alright. Still kicking about, you know how it is. What about you lot? You must’ve been… Busy.”

“Yeah! Yeah, um… Quick question, how did you…?” Nicholas starts, but pauses, trying to think of how to articulate himself.

After a few seconds, Lauren scoffs, “How’d you know to tell us what the date is so calm, like?”

“Well…” You singsong in a high-pitched tone as the door to the costume shop swings open again. Ralph emerges, to a series of shocked gasps.

“Fucking hell, doesn’t he look the spit image of -”

“Yeah, if you just slick his hair right down, and put him in a bow tie and a straw hat, I reckon - Here, you wouldn’t happen to have a great-grandad or something called Ralph, would you?”

“Wait!” Lauren shouts, holding her hands out. She studies Ralph intricately, who looks as though he’s still processing the sight in front of him. “You look just like Ralph, but all modern-like…” She points to him, and then to you. “And you know that we’ve been… In a different time…” She sticks her head out and squints her eyes back at Ralph. “Are you -?” He nods, still stunned into a wide-eyed silence.

Horace raises his arms in an excited greeting. “Ralph! My boy! We thought you’d died!” He pulls him into a hug that sweeps him off his feet. Ralph hangs against Horace’s body as though he were a ragdoll, his face still bewildered. “Let me take a good look at you,” he says as he puts Ralph down, before letting out a single cackle. “Ha, look at you! Look at this jacket, these chains! You’re a proper modern man, ain’t ya, with your sunglasses and your - How’ve you been, what you been up to?!”

“How did you get here?!” Nick asks in disbelief. You recap very quickly how Ralph found Pete - deliberately redacting that he’d attempted to return home to them - and ended up here, where you’d found him and taken him in.

Just as you finish explaining, someone approaches you with an, “Excuse me?” They tap your arm, but lean around you to look at Ralph and nod with a smile, “I thought that was him! Ralph from Twitter, right? Oh my god, I wish my phone hadn’t died, or I’d so ask for a selfie with you!”

Four confused faces look over at Ralph, but you wave the stranger off with a, “Not to worry! I can take one on his phone for him to tweet, if you want? And then you can save it for yourself when you’re home?”

“Oh my god, would you? That’s so sweet! Thank you!” They gush before posing for a photo with him. You quickly get their Twitter handle to include in his tweet, and wave them off as they walk away with a spring in their step.

“What was all that, then?” Jason asks with amusement. “Ralph from Twitter?!”

“Long story. I never told my friends Ralph was from the 1920s, so they thought anyone his age should be on Twitter by now. He kept tweeting inane shit that he thought he was Googling, people found it hilarious, and now he’s sort of social media famous,” you explain with a shrug, to everyone’s laughter.

Lauren looks Ralph up and down, not unlike the way Ralph looks at you, and rubs her hands together. “Famous, eh? I like the sound of that. Sounds like we’ve got some catching up to do, eh, Ralph?”

You feel rage burn through you at the audacity that Lauren has, clearly only interested in Ralph for a chance at fame herself. At how she could so outwardly come for your man - though, granted, Ralph’s been too shellshocked to make that much clear.

You, yourself, start to freeze up as you look over at him. What if this is it? The validation he’d been craving for so long? A second chance at the love he’d felt so strongly about losing, he’d fled the country. If he was willing to risk losing it all after having his heart broken, what else would he be willing to lose to win her back?!

Finally, after what feels like an eternity of silence, Ralph takes a deep breath in. “I don’t think there’s anything more to be caught up on.” He holds your arm to smile warmly at you, “You captured everything perfectly, darling,” before leaning in to kiss you. Jason and Horace hoot and holler, while Lauren makes a disgusted face.

“Fair enough. Rather you than me, anyway, I’d probably get sick of him after a while,” she sneers.

“Good job I won’t, then, eh!” You flash a sickly sweet grin at her as you wrap your arms around one of Ralph’s, hugging it tightly.

“Looks like you really are out of a shot, mate,” Jason grins at Nick, who shoves him.

“Give over, that was -” he flusters, and you laugh, which he sighs at. “Okay, well, so as to explain myself and not sound like a complete lunatic, I, uh… Might have had a bit of a thing for you in school, but I was always too chicken to do anything about it. And even though that was years ago at this point, apparently I’m not allowed to live it down,” he forces a smile on his face, making you laugh harder.

“If it’s any consolation, that was mutual, by the way,” you smirk. You feel Ralph tense under your grip and bury your head against his bicep. “But I don’t think it was meant to be, in the end.”

“God, can you imagine, in another universe, it would’ve been you and Nick, Jase and Victoria, and Lauren and Ralph!” Horace laughs before faltering. “But then who’s left for me?”

You shake your head. “What are you lot planning on doing in terms of living somewhere?”

“Dunno, we brought some stuff over from different time periods in the hopes we could make some big money off some antique dealers,” Nick gestures to the bags they’d placed on the ground while talking to you.

“Good luck, things have changed a lot in the last, what’s it been, six years for you? Yeah, the housing market’s a fucking nightmare,” you shake your head.

“Paying over a thousand pounds a month to live in a shoebox, I ask you,” Ralph mutters under his breath in disgust. You shoot him an offended glance and he simpers back, “But I’d live in a matchbox if it meant living with you, my love.” You grin back, angling your cheek for him to kiss it, to more retching sounds from Lauren. 

“Well, I was wondering if we could chance our luck with Ralph’s place, but seeing as though our only way in would be claiming Jason’s son left it to us in his will, when he’d be older than us in this time…” Nick shakes his head, and you and Ralph look incredulously at him.

“Sorry, what?! Ralph’s place?! You mean the big fuck-off mansion they lived in? That’s a Waterstone’s now, and even if it was, there’s no way you’d afford a place like that -”

The others look at you in confusion. “Victoria told us that the house was destroyed in an air raid,” Nick explains slowly.

You shake your head, pointing towards the bookstore. “Go look for yourself, plaque’s still there, and everything. She ended up spending all the Penbury fortune, went flat broke.”

“Explains a lot,” Lauren mutters under her breath.

“Yes, well, anyway!” Jason raises his hands up, as well as his voice. “I’m on about the one that Victoria ended up getting when he di- well, ‘died’, I guess,” Jason holds up air quotes over the word ‘died’. You both stand there in stunned silence, so he explains, “Vic said she found a letter from your dad, before the place got bombed, or… Whatever the fuck actually happened to it, it doesn’t matter, now. The letter was meant to go to his lawyer but I guess he never got to give it to him before… Well,” he gestures, and you both nod in understanding. “Anyway, so in this letter your dad had written, it said that he’d bought an extra place, for if you were to ever go off to war and want a place to come back that was all your own,” he gestures to Ralph, who swallows hard.

“Father bought… Bought me a house?!” He asks, stunned.

“He wrote some bullshit in there about how it might help you start a family and keep the Penbury name intact, that your… ‘pursuit of a wife would be easier if you already had a place of your own’,” Jason pulls a face and shakes his head.

Ralph nods in understanding, pressing his lips together with a faltering, “Now that sounds like Father.”

“So, when you ‘died’, Vic claimed that she had the right to inherit that house, and that’s where we lived. And, um… I sort of… Gave you a nephew?” Jason smiles weakly at Ralph. “But he went off and started his life elsewhere, and fuck knows what happened to him.”

“Hmm, I thought I could maybe blag our way into claiming that Jase is entitled to inherit it, too, because of the family name, but I doubt it, if JJ never came back for it. I seriously doubt Victoria’s still going,” he shakes his head. “Never mind, we’ll just start flogging this stuff and go from there. Anyway! Insane to see both of you, together, at the same time, but, y’know. Glad to see you’re both well, now.” Nick smiles at you both, and you nod.

“Good to see you guys, too! Helps put things at ease that the whole time travelling thing doesn’t make the universe implode on itself.” They laugh, and you look over at the building next to you before nudging Ralph. “Hey, they could probably try selling some of their stuff to your shop, couldn’t they?”

“There’d be no harm in trying,” Ralph agrees. “Though I should warn you, the owner is a tad… Eccentric.”

Lauren scoffs, “Fuck me, if Ralph’s calling someone eccentric, they must be a raving fucking lunatic!” She picks up one of the bags and heads to the door, slapping Ralph’s arm as she walks past him. “See you around, yeah?”

“Y-Yes, of course. All of you,” Ralph smiles, shaking the other men’s hands as they all pile into Ralph’s workplace.

Your mind starts trying to work in rapid fire, trying desperately to connect dots that seem impossible to connect. Thankfully, Ralph for once manages to keep you on task, even managing to buy what you’d asked him to - though instead of working up the nerve to seek out a cashier, he’d opted for the equally challenging task of trying to operate a self-service checkout while you frantically Google every little bump in the road you come across - though on incognito mode, of course, just in case.

Once you’re sitting down together in a cafe, waiting on your lunch, you finally try and articulate your train of thought to Ralph. “Look, all you need to prove that you’re a rightful heir is a name, a story that you’re related, and three months’ worth of proof that you live somewhere. So, granted, we’re gonna need to find something to sign you up to that’ll mail you stuff, but after that, in just three months, we might be able to get that place!”

“Well,” Ralph starts, wringing his hands together on the table. “Babs was telling me something about - about the taxes she has to file, apparently there’s some sort of form I have to be given at the end of the month, I didn’t say anything because she’s the one that pays me, but she had said something about deducting it from my pay already, it’s a… System I couldn’t wrap my head around,” he shakes his head. “But she did say… That if I’m asked to prove anything about my pay, she also has my official pay slips in her possession.”

You look at him incredulously. “So, what, they have your work’s address on them? As if you live there?”

“Not quite… She asked for our address some time ago, and I assumed it was in case of emergencies so I told her, and so I suppose that’s what she’s submitted on the slips. She said that she never sends them because there’s no point, if we want them, we can simply ask her.”

You’re practically vibrating in your seat with excitement. “So, we can take those… With your name on… Make up some story about how we found a photo online of your great-grandad who looks just like you and found out he owned that house…” You grin at him. “And it’d be ours!”

Ralph deflates a little. “I wish I could share your enthusiasm, my love, but I fear our luck has run out by now. I mean, surely I’d need a legal record, too!”

You shake your head furiously. “It only says they might ask, online. And you’ve charmed your way out of identification before on countless occasions, what’s one more time?! “

“It’s just an awfully big risk, I mean, what if we get caught? What if we’re imprisoned, questioned - would they even believe what happened with me? It’s just too close to being impossible!”

“Exactly!” You slap the table a few times before grabbing Ralph’s hands to hold them. “Everything about us is just shy of being impossible. You are a 26 year old man who was born in 1901. I am someone who’d given up entirely on love until I literally walked right into meeting my literal soulmate.”

Ralph smiles bashfully, “I wouldn’t have thought you believed in soulmates.”

“That’s my point! I didn’t either! I never would have! But you make the almost-impossible entirely possible. You made an entire life for yourself here where you are loved and admired by literally thousands of people, including the most ride-or-die friends you could have asked for. That are, probably right this second, also researching how to keep you here as long as we possibly can. Who can say they’ve got friends like that, hm? You think Victoria and all her little pals would put that much effort into keeping her around?” Ralph shakes his head. “Right. Because you’re special, Ralph. I know it. We all know it. Just… Come on.”

“But there’ll be inheritance tax, surely,” he counters, “and then, what? I haven’t paid tax in… Ninety-seven years!”

“So, if that happens, we do what Anna says. Once we’ve established that you’re definitely entitled to the house in the name of Ralph Penbury, we spin a tale that you were never registered. Sure, you’d probably be lumped with a load of tax to pay back, but…” You tut out a breath as you think before gasping, clapping and holding his hands again. “What if, we get the house, but I tell my parents we’re buying it, rather than inheriting it?! Get them to give me a loan for a deposit, you use it to start paying off tax stuff, and then instead of all our money going on rent, you can pay the tax people back and I can pay my parents back.”

“It all sounds rather hair-brained,” Ralph states, but with a smile that says he believes in the cause.

“It’s completely hair-brained,” you admit with a nod. “It’s insane and out there and nobody in their right mind would actually think it works. Which is what’s gonna make it work. Right?”

“It’s just - It’s the risk,” Ralph shakes his head, but you pull his hands up to your mouth, kissing his knuckles.

“Ralph Do-You-Have-A-Middle-Name? Penbury.” He laughs. “I am so… Ridiculously, madly, insanely in love with you that I would be willing to put my entire life on the line for you. I would quite literally risk it all.”

Ralph’s ears burn red as he smiles bashfully. “And you call me the hopeless romantic.”

“God, I know. I guess you’ve corrupted me, too,” you pull a face, and he laughs.

“You’re right, though. What sort of man would I be if I didn’t heed my own word? Though I may have far less to put on the line… I would do anything for you, my love. As long as I still have you, I will have everything.”

“Trust you to out-fluff me,” you smirk. “So, you’re willing to give it a shot?”

He takes a deep breath in, and finally nods. “Very well. Whatever happens, we shall have each other, always.”

You kiss his hands again with a grin. “Always.”

~~~

The clang of metal against metal as the door shuts behind you makes you jump out of your skin. “Jesus fucking Christ, warn someone when you’re doing that, won’t you?” you glare over at the uniform-clad man as he wrenches his key out of the lock.

“If it’s too loud for your delicate little ears, sunshine, don’t stay so close,” he sneers.

“Got no choice, have I?” you ask, rolling your eyes and gesturing down, and an almost wicked smile creeps along the man’s face.

“That’s what you get, ending up in a place like this where people like you don’t belong,” he tuts, shaking his head. “If you can’t hack it…”

“Oi, dickhead,” a voice calls from behind you. “You’re all done, now, ain’t ya? If you want to keep that face of yours arranged the way your mother made it, you’ll jog on.”

He looks at you with a smug frown, waggling his eyebrows, “That really the sort of thing you want to be known for? Dangerous reputation around these parts.”

You groan, leaning down to press your forehead into the knuckles holding your car door open as you’re standing halfway in it. “Just get that lorry of yours out of my parking space before I get done for being on double yellow lines, yeah?” The man kisses his teeth as he clambers back into his vehicle and drives away. You pull a face as you put on a mock voice, “‘Get a man with a van’, they said. ‘It’ll make your move so much easier’, they said. Prick. Thanks for helping me deal with him,” you simper at Ralph’s friend Charlotte as she scoops up a box from the pavement.

“Yeah, well. Someone’s gotta put pricks like that in their place, and it sure as shit ain’t our Ralphie,” she scoffs, and you chuckle. "Want me to go grab him so you lovebirds can say goodbye?” She says in a joking tone, pulling a kissy face at you.

You laugh, “Says the person who can’t go twelve seconds without sucking on Yankee-Doodle’s face in there,” you waggle your eyebrows.

“You’re lucky I like you, d’y’know that?” she teases, sticking her tongue out at you before turning on her heel, laughing as she faces away from you and sees Ralph emerging out from the front door of his townhouse. She wolf-whistles as the two cross paths, which Ralph looks very confused at, to your amusement.

“Sorry I have to go into work,” you pout your lower lip out in a frown as he approaches you. “They’re just so short-staffed, and I -”

“Don’t you fret, my love,” he interjects, leaning in to press a quick peck to your lips. “You must go where you are needed. Not to worry, we will remain hard at work here, and then when you return, you can relax in your new, furnished home.”

“Our home,” you correct him. “It is yours, after all. I just can’t believe that this is all real.”

“I’ve felt that way for some time, myself,” Ralph admits softly, stroking your cheek with the backs of his fingers, and you feel yourself physically melt against your car door.

“Right, I’m going before I end up feeling even worse about leaving you guys behind.” You pull Ralph in for another, longer kiss, carding your fingers through his curls as he cradles the back of your neck. A laugh bubbles between your lips as you murmur against him, “This isn’t helping!”

“Ah, what’s one more minute of them not having you?” he smiles coyly at you, and you raise your eyebrows at him.

“What if they said that about me coming back home to you, hm?”

Reluctantly, Ralph steps away. “Very well. Have a wonderful day, darling. Travel safely.”

You turn your nose up and shake your head. “Nah, think I’m gonna finally live life on the edge today.” Ralph gives you a look that tells you he isn’t amused, and you grin back, blowing him a kiss. “Be good!”

“When aren’t I?!”

~~~

You’re not sure that you’ll take the train every time you have to go to work, now; despite it being quicker, having to actively pay both ways and being sandwiched amongst so many people just doesn’t seem worth it. Still, today of all days, you wanted to get home as quickly as you could, despite all the local landmarks tempting your inner tourist. You’ve got all the time in the world now to explore them, and besides, it’d be far more entertaining showing them all to Ralph.

You unlock the door and are immediately greeted by the smell of something cooking, something really good. You step through the hallway and into the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe as you watch Ralph reading from a recipe book, squinting close to the page as he drags his finger across each line of his next instruction, his mouth moving along with every word. "Looks like you could do with some glasses," you pipe up, and Ralph yelps in surprise as he looks up at you.

"Hello, my love! Welcome home! Um, I didn't hear you come in, my apologies, I'd have met you at the door if I'd have known."

"It's okay," you soothe as you stride over to him, pulling him into a deep kiss. "What's this in aid of, is everyone staying for dinner?" A pang of disappointment strikes your chest. As much as you love yours and Ralph's friends, you were sort of hoping to have your first night in the new house alone with him.

"Not tonight, darling, this is in aid of you!" Ralph smiles over at you. "Since I have been learning, and you have been working so hard at your shop, especially juggling it all with sorting out the house and you've still been the one to make countless meals for us, I thought I would try and make your favourite meal."

You let out a small, happy whimper, kissing his cheek. "As long as it hasn't been stressing you out. Do you want any help?"

"Well, I suppose now that you mention it, I do need somebody to stand right there and just look casually beautiful, and - well, would you look at that, you're a natural!" He beams over at you, leaning in to kiss you again.

You grin bashfully, hiding your face in his shoulder. "God, look at what you've done to me! You've made me all mushy and shit."

"Happy to help, my love," he smiles, pressing one more kiss to your head before returning to his recipe.

"Sure you don't want me to help? Read things out or anything? I don't want you straining your eyes," you frown.

"Well, it's not as though I can get my eyes tested, is it?" he asks as he continues preparing food.

"But if it's just a case of reading close-up, you can get reading glasses over the counter in the shops," you explain.

"But aren't glasses rather… Unseemly?" he asks with knitted brow.

You shake your head. "If anything, the right ones would make you appear very, very… Seemly," you pull a face, not knowing if that was the correct term to use or not, and Ralph laughs gently.

"Just go and get comfortable, my love. I will call for you when dinner is served."

"Oh, yeah, forgot we have a dining room with a table, now," you smirk. "Just look at us, living the high life!"

Ralph gasps, "Oh, speaking of! Hannah left us a housewarming gift, she donated her tee-vee so that we could have one in our bedroom, as well!"

The way Ralph elongates the letters in TV so deliberately will never not charm you. "That was nice of her! How come?"

"She's moving in with that girl she met last month. All seems a bit fast-moving, if you ask me."

You look at him incredulously. "Look who's talking!"

"Yes, Hannah did point out something similar to me," he admits, ears blushing. 

You chuckle as you navigate your way through to your new bedroom. It seems strange, your familiar furniture against such an unfamiliar backdrop. Every room looks so dated - naturally, it hadn't been touched since the 50s, apparently. Still, that Pinterest board you've been working on for years is finally going to go to good use.

Your heart swells when you see the bed littered with rose petals, a classic touch that has Ralph written all over it. You explore all the dressers and wardrobes in the room, familiarising yourself with where Ralph and your friends have decided to unpack your things. You open up your underwear drawer, thumbing across the carefully-arranged bras with a smile. Finding a particularly intricate number, you fish for its matching underwear, and decide to change into it. Ralph did ask you to slip into something more comfortable, right? You find something flattering to put over the whole set and rejoin him downstairs.

He's stirring something in a pan, looking rather proud of himself, when you get back to the kitchen. This time, you tap your knuckles against the door to make your presence known, so as not to surprise him. However, once he sees you, Ralph immediately drops the utensil he's using back into the pot with an almighty clatter, his jaw visibly dropping. You smile bashfully and he clears his throat, "Forgive my reaction, my darling, but you look positively ravishing."

In Ralphspeak, you know that's the equivalent of him calling you the closest thing to sexy he's probably willing to say. At least, for now. Maybe you've still a little corruption left in you. Still, it's enough to cause your heart to race. "You like?"

"I love. I mean, of course, I love you no matter what, but…" He blows out a breath that tickles the curls that hang across his brow. "You really do look absolutely delectable."

After a lingering moment, you manage to tear your eyes away to look at what's cooking. "Speaking of, so does this! You sure I can't be of any help?"

"Not at all, my dear, it's just about ready to serve. And just in time, so I can no longer fear about getting too… Distracted," he smiles coyly, looking you up and down the way he always does. There's something a little different in the way he looks at you, though. A different sort of gleam illuminates his eyes. One that makes you want to wolf down your food, drag him up to the bedroom and pull him on top of you.

But still, he's worked hard on this meal, and he looks so proud of himself. Though he dishes up, he still rushes ahead of you into the dining room to make sure he pulls out your seat for you, guiding the chair back with you as you readjust it and kissing your cheek before lighting a candle you vaguely recognise as an old secret Santa gift that you never ended up using, and going back for your food.

You exchange stories about your day: you, about the stresses of working short-staffed on a weekend during a school holiday, meaning a terrifying crossover of screaming babies and toddlers, chaotic children, less-than-trustworthy teenagers and overly-entitled adults; Ralph, about all the different ways your friends almost broke almost every piece of furniture you own while trying to get it into the house. Both equally stressful for you to recount.

At first, once you're done, Ralph insists on cleaning up after himself, but after a lot of pouting, eyelash batting and gentle touches, you coax him out to sit in the living room - another whole room dedicated to one thing, you've not lived like this since you moved out of your parents' - and cuddle up to him on the sofa.

Your embrace barely lasts a minute before your lips are on his, again. He’s desperate to get as close to you as he can, clawing at your clothes as he presses the kiss open. Holding the back of his neck to steady yourself, you move yourself up to straddle his lap, letting your tongue slip into his mouth and moaning at the sensation of his against yours. He echoes you as his hands slip down your sides to squeeze your hips. You buck them under his touch, feeling his erection grow beneath you.

He chokes out a soft, “May I?” as his fingers curl around to grip at the fabric of your top. You nod, sitting back and holding your arms up to let him take it off of you. He starts trying to fold it up behind you but, impatient, you take the garment from him and blindly throw it behind you, holding his face to kiss him again.

He takes your hands into his own and guides them back down, his kisses moving from your lips, down your jaw and to your neck, where he finds an especially sensitive spot and stays there, kissing it over and over again, all while muttering sweet nothings to you. “You are so very beautiful, my darling… How fortunate I am to be this intimate with you… Just exquisite in every conceivable way…" You rock your hips faster at his words, throwing him off his train of thought entirely as he sits back and watches you lustfully.

His gaze isn't trained on your face, though. Instead, he's transfixed on the way your breasts move, both from your heaving breaths and from grinding on him. Biting your lip, you wrap a hand around the back of his neck and start pushing it towards you as his tongue just pokes out enough to wet his lips. "Wanna put that mouth to better use?" You ask as you guide him closer to your chest.

He gasps in soft delight, looking up at you gleefully. "Are you quite sure?" You nod and his face melts into one of pure ecstacy. "Thank you, my love," he mutters before taking one of your nipples into his mouth. 

His plush lips press against your flesh as he kisses, sucks and licks at your nipple. Biting back a moan, you rest your hand in his hair, ruffling it slightly and muttering with a smile, “You like that, don’t you?” He hums out an mm-hm that vibrates against your skin, and reaches up to play the other nipple between his finger and thumb. You keen towards him, grip tightening and head bending down to him as you groan loudly, “Fuck, that’s it, good boy!” Words you’d never have thought you’d say in such a context fly out of your mouth so easily, and you could swear he sounded like he was chirping with happiness as you said them.

He moves away from the breast he’s suckling on, pressing one more brief peck to your wet, hardened nipple, and starts to focus on the other, still brushing the other nipple with the backs of his knuckles. You whine, whimper and moan as your still-clothed cunt begs for sweet release. You’re constantly amazed at how quickly Ralph can bring you to an apex few had ever even managed to. “God, Ralph, need you so bad.”

“Of course, please forgive me, got rather carried away there,” he mumbles apologetically to you, but the kiss you press to his forehead tells him there’s nothing for him to be sorry for. Ralph looks around, his brow furrowing. “Um, I don’t wish to diminish the mood at all, but there doesn’t seem to be an awful lot of… Space, here.”

You cock your head, smiling coyly. “You wanna go to the bed you prepared for this exact occasion?”

Ralph returns a smaller, more sheepish smile, his ears tinting. “Ah, you noticed. I suppose, of course you did, it would be difficult not to. Still, was it alright? Or too much?” His face falls. “It was too much, wasn’t it?”

You fleetingly frown in thought. “A little, yeah.” Your expression quickly changes back into a grin, though. “But it was your brand of too much, which makes it perfect.” You lean back to unbutton his shirt. “Unfortunately, my brand is not being patient enough to wait that long.”

“I wouldn’t say that of you, you were rather patient with me all those months,” Ralph notes pointedly, and you laugh.

“Yeah, you used it all up!” You climb off of him, slowly sliding the bottom half of your outfit off, but leaving your underwear on. Looking over at him gawking, you smirk, "You sure you want this? Not exactly dressed for the occasion."

He reaches up to stroke the pad of his thumb across the intricate design of your underwear. "Of course, you had been wearing a matching set, but it was I who became so impatient that I missed out on seeing it in full, my deepest apologies, my love, I - well," he suddenly, hurriedly slips himself out of all his clothes, leaving them in a heap by his feet, making you giggle again.

"Maybe I'll still let you see it," you tell him suggestively, hooking your thumbs into the elastic of your panties. "Maybe I'll wear it all again and take some photos on your phone." With nothing left to cover it, you watch Ralph's cock twitch at the idea and bite your lip to compose yourself. "Maybe," you continue as you slowly push your underwear down your thighs, "I'll leave a video or two, as well." You watch his face as you let them fall past your ankle, stepping out of them and walking back over to him. "What do you think?"

"I think you spoil me, my love," he smiles softly. He reaches down to the jeans he'd all but ripped off of himself, fumbling through a pocket until he pulls out a condom and starts to put it on himself.

Watching the act of him wrapping it around himself and sliding it down is almost enough to totally distract you from your initial thought. Almost. "Did you really just have a condom just sitting there in your pocket? And you make out like I'm the horndog!"

Ralph blushes, "Yes, well, I sort of… Hoped we would… Christen the place, so to speak.”

You climb into his lap, hovering yourself to line up with where he’s holding his shaft. “I like that idea,” you smile softly before sliding yourself down onto him. You both let out staggered moans as you let yourself get used to the sensation of being filled by him, before kneeling yourself up to the point where you can just about feel his tip still inside you and then sinking yourself back down.

His hands grip your hips tightly as he moans your name. You repeat the motions a few times, revelling in the way it feels to drop onto him, having him enter you so deeply and so quickly. You soon start to feel an ache, though, and decide to pace yourself, keeping him bottomed out inside of you and grinding against him until you feel rested enough to go again. 

You can see Ralph’s mouth constantly silently moving, as though he wants to keep complimenting you the way he always does, but he’s too blissed out from feeling you clench around him, your cunt gripping his cock tightly with no intention of ever letting him back out of you again. You especially try to make sure you commit the face he makes every time you pull yourself out just to fuck yourself back down onto him again, to your memory, knowing that just remembering the way he reacts to you would be enough to turn you on, if you ever needed anything to fuel your imagination.

At one point, while you’re rocking your hips with him inside you, you finally manage to get yourself at just the right angle to hit that sweet spot that Ralph is always able to find. Keeping yourself at the same angle, you move yourself even faster, moaning louder and more often.

Ralph seems to notice, and does his best to hold you in place as he bucks his hips up underneath your weight. You curl yourself forward, arms wrapped around his shoulders and face buried in his neck as he fucks you from where he sits beneath you. Knowing how good it makes you feel when he mutters sweet sentiments to you, you mumble against his skin, “Feel so good, Ralphie… You always know how to, you’re fucking amazing… So good to me, so sweet, my Ralph, no-one else’s… My sweet and handsome boy, knows just how to please me, fuck.” 

."He whimpers and whines, music to your ears as you feel your climax start to build again. “Oh, god, Ralphie, I’m so clo- Oh my god,” you groan as he starts to massage your clit in rapid circles. “Oh, fuck, yes, so good to me, thank you… Wish I could, do more for you.”

“- Already do the absolute most, darling,” he soothes. “’M already embarrassingly near to finishing, myself.”

You shake your head, “Nothing to be ashamed of, not at all, god, please cum for me, Ralphie, and I will for you, please?” Ralph completely falls apart beneath you at your words, moaning your name and digging his fingers bruisingly into your skin. You feel yourself becoming one with him as you ride out your orgasm.

He wraps his arms around your hips, cradling you on his lap, and you rest your forehead against his as you both breathe heavily, intertwined in body, in breath, in spirit. You’d never, ever thought you’d even ever contemplate the idea a year ago, but in this moment, you really are certain that Ralph is your one true soulmate.

He leans in to envelop your lips with his own in a sweet and passionate kiss before muttering, “Forgive me, my love, but I do rather need to take care of…”

You whine indignantly, but stand to climb off of him. “Suppose I should actually change into something comfortable now, eh?” You ask humorously, and you hear his laughter from where he’s throwing his used condom away in the bathroom. The downstairs bathroom that you now have in the townhouse where you live with the love of your life. This was always pipe-dream material, but here you are. Living it.

You run upstairs, taking a moment to again admire the state of the bed and think about all the ways you plan to christen it later, and look through clothes to get changed into. Opting for a tank-top-and-pyjama-bottoms combination, you take yourself to your en-suite and freshen up as you get changed.

When you open up the door again, Ralph is just pulling a white shirt over his head, and you smile fondly at his choice to pair it with a very familiar pair of sweatpants. “Those were the first clothes I ever gave you,” you recall, and he looks at you with a similar expression.

“I believe that was also what you had chosen to wear the first night I met you, as well. When you gave me your bed without knowing anything at all about me,” he reminisces.

You giggle, “Oh, yeah, you wouldn’t even look me in the eye because you didn’t want to be ‘improper’, now look at you!” You tap his nose teasingly, and his ears flush red.

“Oh, hush,” he frowns, but the air of a laugh hangs in his voice. “You really were - I mean, to take me in as you did, in my time of need while knowing absolutely nothing about me, especially after Mister Peter told you my far-fetched reasoning for being here…” Ralph wraps his arms around your waist. “Giving me the life I have now, the friends I have, the - everything,” he sighs wistfully. 

“Yeah, well. You try looking you right in the chocolate buttons and saying no to that face,” you smirk, and he laughs. “It’s like I said when we went to the inheritance people to get this place. With my gift of the gab, and your gift of the… Face, the charm, and the everything else you’ve got going for you, we’re unstoppable,” you beam.

“I still can’t believe you were able to talk them around like that,” he looks at you adoringly, and you shrug.

“The amount of backlog they so obviously had, and the amount of effort it would have taken if we hadn’t convinced them to cut some corners with us, it was a doddle,” you shrug. “I could tell they weren’t the brown-nosing type, they weren’t gonna go back to check every little part of what I said we’d set out to do was legitimately within their procedures.”

“A skill set like that is wasted on your little clothes shop,” he frowns, leaning forward to kiss your forehead, and you laugh.

“Yeah, well. Maybe it’s time I look for something new that’s a bit more local to this area,” you nod. “I don’t think Babs’d let you quit, though.”

“Heavens, no, she’d be out for my blood!” Ralph exclaims, and you laugh loudly.

Once you’re back at the sofa, cuddled up beneath a blanket and watching TV together, even though you’re curled up against Ralph’s chest, you can sense something’s bothering him. “You alright?” You ask him.

“Couldn’t be better, darling,” he replies, but the tension you feel beneath your cheek betrays his lie.

“Nah, c’mon, tell me,” you sit yourself up next to him, and he sighs heavily.

“Well, I was just thinking of how… I mean, yes, we have a house now, at least, but I’m still not legally a person, am I? I know we said we wouldn’t openly use that story about me never being registered and so on unless it were absolutely necessary.”

“Yeah, we agreed, only if you need serious medical treatment,” you nod.

“R-right, but what about the other things?” He asks warily, twiddling his thumbs.

“Like holidaying? We can survive not going abroad, Ralph,” you laugh.

“Not just that… What about… Well, we could never be truly wed, or be a family,” you hear his voice get weaker, shakier.

“Sure, we can,” you wrap your arm around his shoulders and pull him so that he nuzzles into your neck, stroking his hair. “Okay, so we couldn’t get, like, legally married, but so what? We can still use the same bank account as if it were a joint one. I could easily change my name by deed poll. We could still throw a wedding in every other aspect, just without the signing the register. And as for the other bit, I mean, you can register with just one parent and add another later, if we do get away with your story about neither of yours registering you.”

“You seem rather sure in your knowledge, there,” he notes with a hint of amusement.

“Yeah, well… Maybe I looked into it all a little.” He looks over at you with a knowing grin, and you feel yourself get sheepish. “What?”

“Nothing, dearest,” Ralph chimes. “Just seems a little… What’s that word that you call me all the time?”

“Sappy? Tell me about it,” you shake your head, and Ralph laughs. 

“It’s an honour to make you feel that way, darling,” he leans over to kiss you. After a few minutes, he breaks away to stroke your cheek with his thumb as he holds your face. “You seriously see a future - of us? With me? I -”

You pull him in for another kiss, laughter bubbling between you as you do so, “Yes, you big dafty!”

He chirps happily. “Well, I suppose I’ve a lot to do, then, haven’t I!”

You take a deep breath in as you brace yourself to potentially let Ralph down. “Yeah, but… look, when I said I was looking into it, I meant as in, like, way into our future, yeah? We’ve got bags of time, I just want to enjoy it all with you, you know?”

To your surprise, Ralph scoffs at you. “Well, naturally. Did you think I would propose to you in this manner? Without so much as a ring? Or even your family’s blessing?”

“Oh, well, that won’t take long at all,” you smirk. “I bet you, when we go have dinner with Mum and Dad next week, by the time we even tell them that we’re together now, Mum’ll be asking you what colour her wedding outfit should be!”

A proud smile bursts onto Ralph’s face, but it quickly fades. “Do you think they’ll fear that us getting a house together is too big of a commitment too quickly?”

“Again. Ralph. They love you,” you reiterate to him, squeezing his hand. “And once they find out you’re responsible for us moving to Southwark, where they are? Dad’ll have gotten himself ordained by the time they bring out desserts just to make sure you’d become a permanent part of the family.”

Ralph’s heart swells hundredfold at the sentiment as he embraces you in yet another kiss. “I suppose I am rather overthinking things, aren’t I?”

“Just a tad,” you scrunch your face up, and he laughs.

“I mean, it’s really no different than when we were living at your flat, really, is it?” He chuckles, and you shake your head.

“Except we could have a pet, now,” you muse, and Ralph sits up straight, his face full of excitement.

“Could we get a cat?!” He beams at you, making you laugh.

“God, you and cats, what is with that?”

“I have a theory,” he muses. “Since Cheese and I got along so well so quickly, I think because we were so similar, he put in a good word with all the other cats. That’s the only explanation there could possibly be.”

After a brief hesitation, you laugh, “Sorry, in what way are you so similar to our old neighbour’s cat?!”

“Well, both of us were sort-of confined to our little flats, neither of us technically supposed to be there. I think he could sense that of me when I first met him, back when I… Upset that neighbour of yours.”

“Because you burnt your toast so badly that you almost suffocated the ninth floor with smoke?” You ask with raised eyebrows, and Ralph slinks back into his seat bashfully.

“Well, I’ve learned now, haven’t I?” He points out.

“That, you have. I’m so proud of how far you’ve come,” you hug his arm, shuffling up to his side. “With everything. How you’ve learned to cope with all this modern stuff, all the stuff you never got to learn growing up, and just… I’m really pleased you’ve been starting to love yourself as much - well, almost as much as I love you,” you simper, resting your head on his arm. “Ugh, god, I really am a sap now, aren’t I?”

Ralph chuckles, pressing a peck onto the top of your head. “At least we can both be, together, eh?”

You sigh contentedly as he wraps his arms around you, pulling the blanket around to make sure you’re both comfortable. You look around at the walls, imagining what decorating with Ralph is going to be like in the coming few weeks, and then picturing the photos you’d hang on there. Travels with Ralph all across the country. Your eventual engagement photos, because of course Ralph’s going to make that moment as photogenic as possible so you’ll have something to capture and savour that memory forever. Wedding photos, all your friends and Ralph’s all dressed up to the nines, singing and dancing the night away to celebrate the pair of you. Pictures of your eventual babies, some with Ralph’s eyes and some with his hair but all of them with his warm, kind smile. Those kids’ first moments, their first smiles, first steps, first day at school.

You break yourself away from your trance-like train of thought to see Ralph’s watching you with all the love that could possibly exist in the world currently living in his gaze. “I’m thinking of the same, too, my love,” he whispers excitedly, as though he’s able to see into your mind telepathically. “I can’t wait for the rest of our lives, either.”

[amelialincoln]

Could you please do a cute family trip to the beach like a babymoon but with scout or something like that?

Hotel California 

“Give it to me.” Link stuck an outstretched palm into her sight of vision. Amelia pulled back as he tried to snatch the phone as a result of not receiving a reply.

“It’s Tom, this patient is critical. He asked for advice.” Amelia leaned away from her frustrated husband.

“Okay, and I’m sure Tom is completely capable of handling it on his own.” Link finally grabbed the phone from her hands, glancing at their conversation. “You’re unbelievable. He didn’t even text you, you were just being controlling and asking for updates.”

“It’s my patient! He should be sending me scans and keeping me informed.”

“Uh no...he should be doing the opposite of that because that’s what I asked him to do.” Link rolled his eyes and leaned back on the beach lounger. “Let it go, Amelia.” She sighed, looking out onto the beach and fixating on Scout who was building a sandcastle a couple meters away.

“He should have sun--”

“I’ve applied it twice in the time that you’ve been obsessing over your phone,” Link teased. “I thought this babymoon was going to destress you but maybe we just should’ve stayed home.” Amelia grinned at him as he beckoned for her to join him on his chair. She interlaced her fingers around the bottom of her bump and slowly moved to sit in his lap. “Man, you’re huge.” Link faked a struggle as she laid back on his chest.

“Shut up,” she laughed. “You're giving your seven month pregnant wife a little too much grief today.”

“Almost eight,” he ran a couple of kisses along her neck as clipped the salty curls out of her face that were getting tangled in the warm breeze. “Did you take your BP this morning?”

“Link,” Amelia groaned. “Can we just relax about everything for a bit?”

“You’re the one checking your phone constantly. The whole reason we’re taking time off from work is to try and get it down.”

“Don’t worry, Carina has made that very clear.” Amelia awkwardly crossed her arms over her swollen stomach and pouted. “It’s weird, I never had a single blood pressure issue with Scout.”

“Probably because you weren’t chasing around a two year old while working full time at the same time as growing a baby.”

“I don’t want to have the conversation about working less again. Mer works full time and she has three kids.”

“Fine,” Link sighed, running a hand through his shaggy hair. “I just want you both to be healthy.” He wrapped his arms around her abdomen, providing a bit of relief by pulling up a bit. “I don’t know how you carry this around all day,” he laughed.

“I haven’t moved from this seat in the last three days,” she leant her head back to meet his eyes. Link didn’t have Amelia’s naturally tanned skin and had gotten quite the sunburn on the first day. It had gotten better but his cheeks were still tainted crimson. Link grinned as her deep, blue eyes stared up at him and pressed a lingering kiss to her swollen lips. 

“Maybe we should move to California. I wouldn’t mind seeing you in a bikini all day.”

“Been there done that,” she laughed. “Addie would probably melt if we told her that she could actually see her godson on the daily.” 

“Jake’s a nice guy. I wouldn’t mind having them around often,” Link mused, glancing at Scout and giving him a wave.

“Dadda! I made a hospital in the sand!” Scout hollered. “For you and Mommy!”

“Good job, bud!” Link shouted back, shaking his head with amusement. “That boy is your son through and through.” Amelia grinned as she glanced at Scout, who was resembling her brother more and more every day.

“Does it bother you?” She teased.

“Not at all. The next one’s gonna be all me.” He soothed a couple of kicks that were beginning to flutter over her bladder.

“I need to get up and walk around or she’s going to get restless,” Amelia sighed, placing a hand over his. “This one is going to be hyperactive for sure.” Link ginned, nodding and picked up the newspaper beside him as Amelia put on a straw hat and sunglasses and strolled over to their son.

“Hi Mama,” Scout babbled, handing her a shell. “I finded this for you.”

“Thanks, baby,” Amelia smiled, opening her palm towards him. “We can add it to the collection.” Scout had insisted on giving Amelia almost every shell he’d found on the beach. The “collection” consisted of almost a hundred pieces of shells, barnacles and sea glass at this point. “Can we go see auntie Addie again tonight?” Scout asked absentmindedly, digging a hole with his pudgy hands.

“No bud, we’re going to visit Charlotte and Cooper this evening. We’ll see your auntie tomorrow though.” Scout let out a large sigh but nodded.

“Okay.”

                                                         [][][]

“Aw, look at ya!” Charlotte’s outstretched arms greeted the family from the doorway. “Come here.” She pulled Amelia into a gentle hug before kneeling down to Scout’s height and ruffling his dark brown curls. “Hey, mister. Want a popsicle?”

“Charlotte, you’ll ruin his dinner,” Amelia groaned but Scout was already squealing happily as Georgia led him into the kitchen.

“Look at you acting all motherly. I remember you basically smuggling Mason candy every time he came to the practice.”

“Is he here tonight?” Amelia asked.

“Nope, he went with Coop on the trip. They feel bad about not being able to see ya but we had no idea you were even coming.” 

“Our bad. It was all very last minute,” Link replied, breathlessly leaning over to give Charlotte an awkward hug while juggling a couple platters of appetizers.

“I wanted to help him bring stuff in.” Amelia rolled her eyes. “Apparently, I’m too fragile.”

“Fragile and Amelia Shepherd aren’t two words I would put together in a sentence often,” Charlotte joked, welcoming the couple into the entryway. “Addison mentioned that y’all were having a bit of a struggle with this pregnancy.”

“Oh, of course she did,” Amelia eyed Link with exasperation. “I’m fine, everyone’s been making such a big deal.” She grabbed one of the plates from Link’s hands spitefully and practically marched into the kitchen. 

“Well, isn’t she just a ball of delight,” Charlotte chuckled. “Come on in, Link. It’s nice to see you.”

                                                         [][][]

Saying their goodbyes was hard as always. Amelia would do anything to try and convince Charlotte to come work at Grey Sloan and Charlotte would do anything to try and get Amelia to move back to California. Finally Scout’s grumpiness, as a result of his bedtime passing, meant that the couple had to leave and Amelia’s poor attempt to hold back tears failed as they finally got into the car.

“Hormones.” Both Link and Amelia said in sync as they met each other's gaze. Amelia craned her neck to peer back at Scout who was fast asleep in his carseat, soft snores coming from his mouth. They pulled into their hotel as the sun disappeared from the horizon. Amelia went to pull Scout out of his carseat out of habit before Link tugged her aside and picked their sleeping son up into his own arms.

“You got the hotel key?” He asked.

“Yeah,” she replied with a yawn.

“Tired, babe?” Link turned to glance back at his wife, who was waddling slowly behind him and tried to hide his amusement. Amelia nodded, catching up to him as Link slowed down. “Sounds like it's bedtime for everyone.”

“Apparently not,” Amelia groaned, rubbing the underside of her belly as the familiar flutters started back up again, receiving a sympathetic look from Link as she unlocked their hotel room. Link placed Scout carefully on the hotel’s king sized bed without a sound and began to fish through their suitcase. “His pjs are in my bag. I wasn’t sure if we were going to put him down at Charlotte’s or not.” She took off the heels that she heavily regretted wearing and rubbed her swollen feet.

“Probably would’ve been smart. Poor guy is exhausted.”

“We can sleep in. Flight’s not until one,” Amelia responded softly, brushing her son’s hair out of his face. Scout didn't even flinch, dead asleep.

“She still kicking?”

“Not as much anymore.” Amelia ghosted a hand over her abdomen. “Had me worried for a sec.”

“Don’t jinx it.” Link grinned, finally finding Scout’s pjs in Amelia’s bag and throwing them at her.

“No kidding.” She pulled their son’s popsicle covered t-shirt off and motioned for Link to run it under water in the sink before taking off the rest. Link came to sit beside her as she finished buttoning up Scout’s dinosaur onesie and rubbed her back gently.

“Can I take your BP now?”

“Link, I just want to go to bed,” Amelia sighed, leaning into his touch and closing her eyes.

“I know, babe. It’ll just take a second.” He grabbed the portable monitor from his suitcase and secured the strap around her arm. Link watched the screen intently as the strap inflated and began to deflate before the final number came up on the screen. “One twenty-nine over eighty.” He bit his nail, glancing up at her. “I mean it’s a bit better.” Amelia looked away, shaking her arm out of the band and trudged into the bathroom. “Amelia,” Link sighed, following her and waiting as she splashed water on her face before picking up her toothbrush.

“One twenty-nine over eighty is crap,” she mumbled, through a mouthful of toothpaste. “This whole thing is stupid. The more that people freak me out about numbers and bad outcome statistics and birth plans the more I get stressed.”

“Who’s talking to you about bad outcome statistics?” Link demanded with a hint of anger in his usually calm voice.

“Addie.” Amelia spat in the sink. “She’s worried about placental abruption. She thinks our best bet is C-section.”

“Okay, well Addie is not our doctor. Carina said that as long as we monitor you closely, a natural birth is completely safe.” Amelia shrugged, turning back into their bedroom. “I thought that’s what you wanted?”

“I want our baby to be safe,” Amelia affirmed. “I think Addie should do it.”

“Carina is perfectly capable of delivering. She’s been through this with us the entire time. She knows your condition better than anyone and Scout turned out okay,” Link pressed, watching Amelia trace a protective hand along her bump absentmindedly. She glanced up at him, seeming to give into exhaustion.

“Can we talk about this tomorrow?” She begged.

“Yeah.” Link nodded, giving in to his tired wife. “Of course we can. Let’s get you to bed.” He unbuttoned her dark blue dress that complimented her eyes perfectly and unclasped her bra before handing her one of his oversized t-shirts.

“My boobs are huge,” she complained, crawling into bed.

“I know. You were in a swimsuit with me all day,” he teased, undressing until he was in his boxers and slipping into bed beside her. “Hey,” he chuckled, as he received a pathetic slap from a pillow. “I wasn’t complaining.”

“My pregnancy with Scout was so easy.” She shook her head, trying to think back to if her ankles were the size of grapefruits back then.

“You were probably just distracted by all the drama,” Link joked. “I remember some good complaints. The braxton hicks were bad.”

“I don’t have anything to compare those to yet,” Amelia nuzzled her head into Scout’s who was lying fast asleep in between the couple and yawned.

“Go to sleep,” Link’s hand found her hair and he ran his fingers along her scalp gently. “My babies all need rest.” Amelia nodded, slowly nodding off to the soothing effect of Link’s fingertips and the crashing of the waves from outside their hotel room.

[leviackermanscleaningbuddy]

BTS DRABBLE-Jungkook

Request: Vlogger!Jungkook records and documents the birth of his first son.

A/N: Listen. I have just straight up had a shitty day. So, to remedy that, I thought writing about some soft dad!Kookie would help me feel better. 

Tags: BTS, BTS Drabble, Bangtan Boys, Bangtan Seonyendan, Bulletproof Boy Scouts, Beyond the Scene, Fluff, Dad AU, Husband AU, Vlogger AU, Jeon Jungkook, Dad!Bangtan, Dad!Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook x you, Jungkook x reader, Daeseok

Genre: Fluff

Warning: There will be descriptions of birth and labor. 

Title: Who Cares? 

“So another boy, huh?” Your doctor asks with a gentle smile, as she moves the ultrasound probe on your belly to find said baby’s heartbeat. 

“Yep.” You nod, grinning over at Jungkook, who clutches your hand, eyes on the ultrasound screen, as the baby’s heartbeat sounds loud and clear and steady throughout the room suddenly. 

“And are we going to be vlogging this one too, Jungkook?” Your doctor teases, showing you a clear view of your tiny son on the screen, as she flashes a smile in your husband’s direction. 

“I don’t think so.” Jungkook laughs, a slight blush coming across his cheeks, as he winks at you. “I’ve given up on being a vlogger. And besides,” His lips pull back in a cheeky smile to reveal his bunny teeth. “I think (Y/N) would kill me if I tried that again.” 

“You bet I would.” You say playfully, reaching out to pinch his arm lightly as your doctor laughs at your banter. 

-Three Years Earlier-

“Okay. There we go. Perfect.” Jungkook mumbles to himself, checking once more to make sure that he is perfectly in the camera frame before he starts the recording once more. “Hey guys!” He waves into the camera and makes sure to smile big for those who will be watching. “It’s an exciting night over here!” 

Jungkook tries to hold the camera steady as he jogs down the hallway and back to your bedroom, where you are leaning on the bed, stuffing clothes and belongings and baby items into an overlarge backpack. 

“Jagi, say hi!” Jungkook glances at the camera, as he holds it out to show you in the frame, and he motions for you, behind the lens, to acknowledge the video. 

“Hello.” You roll your eyes, your voice disinterested and clipped, as you zip up the backpack and turn to Jungkook, who is fiddling with the camera. “Kook, come on. Can we go now? These contractions are starting to hurt like a bitch.” 

As if on queue, you lean back over the bed, letting out a slight groan, as you clutch your swollen belly and try to breathe through the contraction pain. 

“Oh, right!” Jungkook rushes to your side, supporting you as you work through the birth pain, but does not forget about his audience as, rubbing soothing circles onto the small of your back, he says directly into the lens, “We’re having a baby tonight! Little boy Jeon is own his way!” 

“Jungkook.” You whine out after the contraction has faded enough for you to stand up straight again. “Put the damn camera away and take me to the hospital!” 

“Yes, ma’am.” Jungkook exclaims, reaching for the backpack, but not before sneaking one more wink to the camera before he reaches for the off button. “See you guys at the hospital.” 

********

“Shit!” You let the expletive fall from your lips as you sink back against the hospital bed, breathing like you have just run a marathon after the last killer contraction that had just swept over your body. 

“Jagi’s doing really well, guys.” Jungkook moves to grab his camera up once more from where it had been sitting in the corner, filming the scene of you, suffering through the pain in your hospital bed, before he moves to your side and leans over to squeeze your hand, putting you both in the frame. “We’ve been here about 5 hours, and the nurse said she’s getting close to pushing.” 

“Kook, I need ice.” You breathe out, adjusting the wet, cool rag that is draped across your forehead, ignoring his camera and filming entirely. 

“Got it.” Jungkook jostles the camera slightly as he reaches for the bedside table, and leaning over to plop a few small ice cubes onto your tongue, he settles down in the chair beside your bed, as he says into the video, “So, like I said, we’ve been at the hospital for about 5 hours now, and,” Jungkook pauses in what he’s saying to look up away from the screen and to the clock, before he refocuses, voice low so as not to disturb you. “Jagi’s made it this far all on her own. No pain meds, no help. She’s superwoman.” He flips the camera to catch a glimpse of where you lay, eyes closed, a thin sheen of sweat on your face. “She’s really beautiful, huh?” 

“Kook. Don’t lie.” You crack open your eyes barely, and he flashes you a grin, as you manage a weak smile in his direction, just before you feel the telltale tightening happening once more around your middle. “Kook!” 

“That’s my cue.” Jungkook says quickly, standing up and positioning the camera once more to capture the scene without his help, before he hurries to your side, where you clench onto his hands as if they’re your only lifeline. 

“Ow, ow, ow!” You wail out, face screwing up, breathing growing erratic, as two nurses appear at the foot of your bed, standing silently as you battle through the contraction. “Ow, shit!” 

When the pain is decreasing, you heave a long breath, and the nurses move forward, offering you sympathetic smiles, before one says, “Okay, (Y/N). You can push now, okay? We’re gonna hold your legs and on your next contraction, I want you to bear down. Do you think you can do that?” 

You glance over at Jungkook, wide eyed and suddenly panicked. “I’m not ready. I’m not ready to be a mom, Kook.” 

He looks slightly pale, as your fingers clench around his own, but he manages a wan smile and a chuckle, before he leans over to press a kiss to your forehead. “I hate to break it to you, love, but this baby’s coming whether we’re ready or not.” 

As if triggered by his words, another contraction starts, and the nurses begin to nod, saying firmly, “Okay, (Y/N). Use this contraction to push.” 

“Ow, ow, shit, ow!” You screw your eyes shut, pressing your chin into your chest and push, you push as hard as you’ve ever pushed in your life, and just when you feel as if you can’t push anymore and Jungkook’s fingers will fall off in your own, the pain is dying down, and you can breathe again. 

“Good, good!” One of the nurses exclaims, before reaching up to you and taking your hand in yours. “Reach down here. Feel your baby’s head.” 

Your fingers come into contact with a very wet, very sticky, very hairy head between your legs, and you gasp, looking over at Jungkook with wide eyes. “Oh my gosh, Kook, he’s actually coming!” 

“Yeah, he is.” Jungkook reaches up to smooth hair back from your forehead, before he nods at you. “Let’s finish it then, jagi.” 

He has completely forgotten about the video camera in the corner. 

Another pain. Another push. Another eternal moment of agony and not being able to breath and then. 

“He’s here!” 

A cry splits the air, and a flurry of activity happens, and then one of the nurses is plopping a purple, wet, bloodied baby, black hair plastered to his little round head, directly on your chest. 

“Oh, oh.” You gasp out, still catching your breath from pushing, your body starting to shake all over from the exertion of the last several hours. But none of that, none of that compares to the feel of your baby boy in your arms, his tiny mouth pursed as he fusses, tiny eyes screwing closed, minuscule fists reaching out to clutch at the materal of your hospital gown. 

You glance up at Jungkook, who is standing beside the bed, silently looking down at his son, eyes slightly more shiny than they were a moment before. “We did it, Kook. We did it.” 

“We did it.” He repeats, before he crouches down, reaching out a careful and slightly hesitant finger to brush across his son’s still damp head of hair. 

“Would dad like to cut the cord?” One of the nurses asks, holding up a pair of surgical scissors and looking to you both questioningly. 

You nod, and Jungkook nods, before he leaves your side and steps down to the nurse, taking the scissors and clipping his son’s cord easily with one motion. 

“Oh my gosh. Hi, baby boy.” You whisper, not being able to help running your fingers over all of the baby’s soft, wrinkled, downy skin. “Hi Daeseok.” 

“He has so much hair.” Jungkook says in awe, crouched down once more beside you, as he looks at the baby, tiny fist now stuck in his mouth, with wide eyes. 

“I know. He looks a lot like you.” You remark, still not looking up from the baby, hand now stroking across the drying strands of dark hair. “Did you get it on tape?” You glance up at your husband and, suddenly remembering, you glance toward the camera, forgotten in the corner. “The birth? Did you get it on video, Kook?” 

“Who cares?” Jungkook asks softly, not even glancing over at the still rolling camera, as he once again reaches out to touch his newborn son. 

[fairlyspnfanfic]

The Secrets We Keep - Part One

A/N: This one just sort of came about tonight so I’m making it up as I go as opposed to my usual outline methods.  

Summary: You met the Winchester’s a little less than a year ago when they came to town for a case.  You’d had one or two moments of, shall we say, closeness with the youngest Winchester, and more than your fair share of arguments, too.  But this time may just be different. 

Part One

  “Are you out of your fucking mind?” Her expression of disgust and disbelief stared wildly at me.  Eyes wide and her mouth just slightly agape.

 “No,” my voice remained confident and unfazed. “I’m not. But you are if you think I’m going to leave you here. You need to go.”

 “Go? This is my home!” the woman was shouting at me.

  “Yes, it is.  Your home. The home that you invited me to and begged me to save you from.”  I attempted and failed to keep my volume in check, but all I wanted to do was shake the stubborn and ignorant woman in front of me until she understood the danger she was in.

 I took a deep breath and steadied myself, pressing my right hand to my forehead and squeezing the bridge of my nose gently.  “Look,” I began, my voice more even keeled and calm. “I can help you.  But I need you to leave.  Get your family and go out. Just for the night.  I know what I’m doing but I can’t do it with you here. It’s too dangerous.”  

Her blank stare was all that answered me.  “Listen Karly, you called me for a reason, yeah?”  She nodded her head.  “Trust me,” I said, enunciating the words.  My hands were pressed together as if joined in prayer and I bent my arms to point my fingertips at her.  Her rapid blinking told me the words weren’t getting through to her.  “Great, come on.” I grabbed her arm and began walking her down the sidewalk.  

We had been standing on her front porch arguing for what seemed like forever but in reality, only amounted to about ten minutes.  She had called me three days prior, asking for help.  Her house had become a nightmare.  She’d always heard footsteps in the house when she was the only one home. Small things would be missing from the places that she’d put them.  But lately, the events had turned hostile.  Her and her husband had a newborn baby girl and almost as soon as they brought her home, things started going more than wrong.  They heard not only footsteps, but malicious voices over their baby monitor.  They’d done their best to ignore them and convince themselves it was impossible, but then the baby started waking up screaming, covered in bleeding scratches that she couldn’t have given herself.  Enter me.  

Karly was in shock. That I knew.  But shock I could deal with.  Willful ignorance was another story.  We stepped up to the front door of her SUV.  I shoved her into the passenger seat and even went so far as to buckle her seatbelt for her.  “Stay. Here.” I told her, pointedly.

Running in the front door and propping it open, I yelled her husband’s name.  “Greg! Time to go!” He had been the levelheaded one.  The more accepting of the two of them when confronted with the truth.  Ghosts were real. Poltergeists were real.  And there were people like me who went around the world taking care of them.

Greg walked towards the front door; the baby wrapped in his arms.  “Where’s Karly?”

“She’s already in the car. Get your family and get out of here.  I’ll let you know when it’s safe.” Their diaper bag was already packed and slung over his shoulder. “Way to be a boy scout.”  

I listened as I heard Greg turn the engine over and pull out of the driveway.  Almost instantly, the front door slammed in front of me, and it was clear that it wouldn’t be opening again until the job was done.  

I bolted for the basement door.  It had been locked tight and it took all my strength to pry it open at the cost of a few chunks of the wood surrounding the locking mechanism courtesy of a few well-aimed salt-filled bullets. I made it down three or four of the steps before being slammed against the unfinished and crumbling brick wall at the end of the stairs.

“Oh, dick move, Casper.” I struggled to pull myself back to standing, noting the more than slight twinge of pain coursing through my shoulder.

A grey figure appeared just a few feet in front of me.  A young boy, maybe ten-years old, with rage in his hollow eyes. “You don’t belong here,” his raspy voice said accusatorily.  Black blood, old and ghostly, flowed from his mouth, trickling down his chin and dripping down, staining his translucent shirt.  He held his hands up to me, pushing me back against the wall again.  

“You don’t belong here!” He was screaming now with his hands grasping at the air, moving closer towards me. His nails were broken, and his fingers dripped with more ghastly blood. The eerie skin that covered him was bruised and broken in more places than not.  I managed to reach my hand into my pocket, firmly grasping the ring of solid iron held within it.  I tossed it towards him and watched as he faded away and the force holding me up relented.  

I knew the boy’s story. He had lived in the house long before Karly and Greg moved in.  Abusive parents, gross neglect, and a lifetime spent living in the basement, clawing at the locked cellar door, before starving to death beneath the stairs. His body had been cremated, but he still haunted the home getting angrier and angrier with each passing day.

I ran to the cellar door that I knew lead to the backyard.  Still locked as it always had been for him; both in life and death. “Come on, come on,” I pleaded, searching the door and its frame for any sign of remains. It had been painted multiple times, but there were still deep scratches in the wood.  There had to be something there.  I could feel him pulling his energy back together as the room turned cold and my breath started coming out as a fog.

There wasn’t much time. And what little I had was running out quickly.  “Screw it.” I pulled my Zippo lighter out of my inside breast pocket and held it up against the door.  The paint quickly sizzled away, and the wood took to the flame almost immediately. The gun, still tucked into the back of my jeans, had half a mag left and each round was chalk full of rock salt.  I opened fire at the door and watched as it burned away.  The tell-tale screeching behind me was almost deafening but it reassured me that my hunch was right.  The ghost boy was fading away.  

My legs turned to jelly below me and I quickly fell to my knees, breathing deeply and allowing the fear to overtake me as I always did. Each job ended the same way for me.  The fear and stress, suppressed up until the job was done, took over.  And I allowed it.  For a minute or two, never longer.  I breathed, covering my face with my hands, until the putrescent smell of burning wood, paint, and human fingernails overwhelmed my nose.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, forcing myself to focus and collect myself once more before lifting my eyes to the cellar door on flambe. “Oh shit!” I yelled, quickly getting to my feet as I rushed to put the growing flames out.  The door was almost entirely turned to ash and the flames were quickly spreading to the brick surrounding it.  

I burst through the burning embers and ran for the side of the house for the garden hose, making quick work of putting out the blaze.

The cell phone in my pocket vibrated and I pressed the green answer button before holding it up to my ear. “Yeah?” I asked, breathlessly.

“Hey,” the familiar voice crooned at me.  “Been a long time.”

“Uh huh,” I answered, realizing who it was.

“Look, uh…” He hesitated. “Sammy and I are coming into town.  Thought we’d stop by if you’re around.”  I knew what that meant.  

“That’d be great, Dean. I’m a little busy tonight.  When do you get in?”

“Tomorrow.  Round noonish.  I know he’d love to see you.”  I smiled silently.  

“Dean, does he even know you’re making this call?”  It was his turn to be silent. I rolled my eyes.  “I’ve got to finish up with some work quick.  But I’ll be around tomorrow.  Stop by whenever.”

“You got it, sweetheart. See you then.”  I hung up the phone and shoved it into my pocket.

“Great,” I said out loud, to nobody but myself. Dean and Sam had breezed through my hometown a year or so ago.  They’d introduced themselves as FBI agents, but that façade quickly lost traction when I watched them shoot the local MD with silver bullets as his bright green eyes and sudden large jagged teeth murderously leapt towards me.

“Back to normal.”  

I sent a text off to Karly letting her know her home was safe again, if only slightly damaged.  I’d seen and done much worse for a case. I had a five-hour drive ahead of me to make it home before Sam and Dean got there. And a lot of lore, newspaper clippings, and weapons to hide before Sam and Dean arrived.  Keeping my night job a secret was becoming more than a full-time job.

Part 2

Tagging from previous like-age:

@vicmc624​@waywardprincesa @heyyy-hey-babyyy​ @carissime72​  @deans-baby-momma​  @formulafun​  @woodworthti666​  @yetanotherreader​ @crashlyrose​ @hobby27​  @gabby913​  @jxackles​ @polina-93​@supernaturaladdictsblog  @fandomoverdose666​  @deans-baby-momma​ @deanwanddamons​  @tazzi-baby

[deliriumsdelight7]

10, 20, 30

I'm tickled far more than I should be that you chose the multiples of ten.

10: Were you ever a boy/girl scout?

Yeah, and I hated it. I watched my older brother in Cub Scouts, and I was so excited to do all the things he did. Camping, hiking, archery, cooking over a campfire. So when I joined my local Girl Scout troop and found out that we mostly just sold cookies, did glitter crafts, and watched the first half of Annie (I still don't know how it ends), it's safe to say I was really damn disappointed. I remember when my brother went to Boy Scout camp, my dad bought two of everything on the list of stuff he'd need - sleeping bag, flashlight, compass, mess kit, etc. - so I'd be ready when it was my turn to go to camp. When I got there and unpacked my bag, the counselors sort of stared at me and said, "oh, you won't need any of that." It was very eye-opening how different the two organizations were.

20: What is your favorite kind of sandwich?

There's this old mom-and-pop owned pizza joint near where my dad and stepmom live, with these greasy old brick ovens, and they make the best hot Italian grinder. My stepsister, who's a fussy eater, knows how to order them so they come out perfect. But since I can't get that, I'll settle for a tuna on rye. Throw in some scallions and celery for flavor and crunch, and I'm happy.

30: Favorite pie

Hmmm... Well, flavor-wise, I love a good blueberry pie. Always have (except that time when I saw the old Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory clip where Violet Beauregard turns into a blueberry and I was convinced the same would happen to me). But if we're going by sentiment, I make this ridiculously chocolatey chocolate creme pie, which is (in my opinion) the reason my husband and I started going steady. It was our third date, and I wanted to impress him with my culinary skills (despite not actually having any at the time). So I brought the stuff over to make a really mediocre chicken parm, and this chocolate creme pie. He was very polite about my tough, rubbery chicken, but he went nuts over the pie. I make it every year for our anniversary.

[orangeflavoryawp]

New tag game from my friend @joufancyhuh!  List the five weirdest/best animal encounters you’ve ever had.

1. Okay, this is going to go under WORST animal encounter I’ve ever had.  I was five years old, visiting Lion Country Safari in Florida.  They had free-roaming peacocks.  It was mating season, ergo the males were very, very aggressive.  I got attacked by one, as I was around its size, pecked and clawed at my face, nearly gouged my eye out, and when my mom rushed me to the bathroom to clean me up, with park officials running toward us, I have this vivid memory of another mother cleaning up this poor little boy around my age, sitting on the bathroom counter, with blood all down his face, crying, his right eye completely bloodshot, and I was like ‘holy shit, is that what I look like?!’ and I went insane.  I have a phobia of peacocks now.  I literally cannot even look at a picture of them without freaking out.  Writing this is making me shake.  I shit you not.  

2. Okay onto the cool ones now.  I swam with sharks out in the ocean around Oahu, Hawaii back in 2005, where the first ever footage of a great white shark in Hawaiian waters was taken.  We were literally in the fucking water with this eighteen footer.  Here’s a video (not mine, it’s from our instructor, I was in the cage) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Akj_UbQYBXk I still have the Hawaiian newspaper clipping talking about it and my North Shore Shark Adventure t-shirt.  One of the greatest experiences of my life.

3. When I was in elementary school, I took horseback riding lessons with my girl scout troop.  There was one horse named Charlie, who was a bit raggedy and dirty and none of the other girls wanted him.  But I fell in love.  And later, when they were let out to pasture, I stood at the fence watching him across the field.  I called to him once - just the once.  He picked his head up, looked at me, and then came trotting over.  He stood at the fence with me for nearly an hour as I pet him and talked to him.  He died three years later from cancer, but I still think about that hour all these years later - a time of peace I don’t think I’ve ever experienced similarly again.  I think about how he heard me from across the field.  I think about how he came to me, gentle and steady.

4.  There was a wildlife rescue back in Miami that I used to volunteer at a few times.  There was a Florida panther that used to be this couple’s pet, and she was poisoned by the woman who was trying to get back at her husband for some slight or whatever.  Lost two-thirds of her stomach, had tremors forever after.  I got to feed the big cats through the fence sometimes, but she was always the most gentle when she took food from your hand.  Such a sweetheart.  So small and thin, but she was also fierce.  That cat lived well beyond her expected years.  I will always remember her.

5. I almost lost my dog, Zuzu, this last October when she ingested something toxic.  She was in the hospital for three days, hooked up to fluids, lying almost comatose for most of it, barely even recognizing my voice or my presence.  The staff were kind enough to let me sit in her kennel with her for a few hours each day.  We had to try an experimental treatment at last, and I was nervous, but when I visited that last day after she got the treatment, and she actually stood up and wagged her tail at me, I literally burst into tears, had to squat down to the floor because my legs gave out, hand to my mouth, laugh-crying, and she looked so tired but she was standing for the first time in three days and actually recognized me and they let me into her kennel and I hugged her and sunk down with her and just lay there with her for god knows how long and I have never loved something so much as I did then.

Man, I was not expecting this to get me so emotional, but yeah, there it is.  This was a fun ask.  Made me think about a lot of things.  Thanks, Jo!

Tagging @mycrazyfangirl21, @theoriginalsuki, @missfaber, @ladyalice101, @citadelsushi, @riptidemonzarc, @szajnie, @amymel86, @foofyschmoofer, @goddesstiera, @fedonciadale, @tacitwhisky and anyone else who thinks this is an interesting ask meme to do!

[uozlulu]

Venture Bros. season 7 episode 9 reaction post. Spoilers

Overall, there was one plot point I really REALLY didn’t like, but other than that it was a pretty decent albeit slow-ish episode. It felt like a means to get to two key plot points, one between Rusty and the Monarch that I liked and one between the boys that I didn’t like. I’m kind of curious why they chose the plot point they chose for the boys since it seems like there are other options, but perhaps we’ll get something unique out of an overdone trope. I’m not sure. I’m not really looking forward to it.

Please be aware that there are spoilers below.

I have questions: Does White really have mono or did he just not want to go out in the blizzard? How did he get mono? Some take out person come to work sick and spit in his food or something? Also, why does Billy have his pants down but his underwear on while sitting on an open toilet? I mean I know it’s a suppository but why the underwear still? Maybe a subconscious reaction to not wanting to take a suppository.

”Put it, Billy, push it real good.” Okay I’ve got a Salt-N-Pepa classic stuck in my head now.

Hank, bb, it’s a blizzard. I mean I know Sirena is a supervillain’s daughter, but like there’s got to be limitations to cell service. Although I could also believe in this hypertechnology world there is not.

Why chicken tenders? Did they stick them together with honey? Looks tasty though.

Hank, you’re trying way too hard.

Dr. Z: [trying to HEAVILY IMPLY murder to the Monarch and Gary, who are going in circles here because they can’t tell if he wants them to murder this weather guy or not] Sheila: [behind him facepalming]

GDI, HANK. Then again, I don’t know what I expected. Of course he knocked himself out in the middle of a blizzard.

Makes me think of like the Sub-Mariner or Aquaman or something. Not sure why.

lol bickering over a wallet.

We have a newspaper clipping of my grandpa with his hands up a cow’s ass. He was a vet.

Well, it’s good to know the Monarch agrees slaughtering boy scouts is a bit extreme.

I wonder if we know the bear.

I’m still curious if the “Black Widow” killed all her husbands or if they died because she’s a superhero.

”I just gave kids a snow day. You’re a cyberstalker.” He’s right and he should say it.

“…and…Malcom…?” Interesting. Then again, I can’t think of a time Rusty’s ever seen the Monarch without his cowl on come to think of it. Kind of lulzy though that Rusty never like connected the unique eyebrows.

”Did that asshole just call me Malcom?!” lol Also, did they just like not recognize Rusty and Billy because they were wearing crazy outfits? And I thought my facial blindness was bad.

Is Hank hanging with the Brow Widow? I mean who else could that bear be?

If you heard the biggest loudest whine you’ve ever heard, it was me. I mean jfc there are so many ways we could drive a wedge between the brothers. So many ways we could break up Hank and Sirena. So many other ways than this nonsense. Bleh. BLEH. BLEH BLEH BLEH BLEHITTY BLEH BLEH BLEHHHHHHH.

”Oh good. You guys see him too.” I like this line even though I’m not into the way we got to it.

[a-captions-blog]

Video description start.

A video by The Guardian titled: Being a Little Person in America: ‘We’re still treated as less than human’. The video follows and is narrated by Cara Reedy, a Black woman with achondroplastic dwarfism.

The opening sequence follows Cara as she walks into an NYC subway station and gets on a train. Cara’s narration says: “My name is Cara Reedy. I'm a writer and podcaster living in New York City. I'm also one of an estimated 90,000 people with dwarfism in the US. As a dwarf, or little person as it's sometimes called, my body is always on display. I'm stared at, followed, had the word midget screamed at me and been discriminated against at work.” Several video clips from other sources of dwarves are shown. One shows someone dancing on a stage. The next is from the Jerry Springer show. A banner on the bottom says, “Stick situations”, and the clip shows two dwarves fighting in an inflatable pool while a show host and audience watch and cheer.

The next shot shows Cara looking out the window of a car as the narration says, “From the way I've been treated and from the way the media still portrays us, it still seems acceptable to treat us as something less than human. I'm on a journey to understand why and to find out what it means to be a little person in America today.”

Cara is briefly seen walking on the pavement with another dwarf, and then the video cuts to a sequence of other dwarves talking briefly. These clips go as follows:

A woman sitting on a white couch says, “Little people are kind of like, the last acceptable blackface.”

A wrestling ring with two dwarves and a referee is shown. Narration says, “We believe the same, our hearts are the same, we're just little, we're just short stature.” The speaker is shown to be a bald man.

A dwarf woman walks with her husband, who is pushing a stroller. Accompanying them are two kids on scooters and Cara.

A new speaker says, “We need to be allowed to tell others what it means to be a little person.” A dwarf in a motorised wheelchair is shown lecturing a university class. They are revealed to be the speaker and say, “So that's what we're fighting for.”

The title card shows underlined white text on a black background that reads: “Dwarfism and Me”. The next shot is a view of traffic from a car with text that says, “St Louis, Missouri.” Cara is shown riding in a car with text that introduces her as a journalist. Her narration says, “I've come back to my home of St Louis to understand how the perception of my own dwarfism began.”

Cara greets and hugs a Black man with a cane and an older man getting out of a car. Her narration explains, “I was born with achondroplasia, the most common form of dwarfism.” She and her family are shown sitting on a couch. Her father, Sidney Reedy, says, “The first thing that happened, you’ve just been delivered and I thought, ‘oh what a gorgeous child.’” Several clips of baby Cara with various nurses are shown as her father says, “And the aide said, ‘oh my God, look at her, look what’s wrong with her!’ ‘Look at that, look at that.’ Well, two other aides hustled him out of the room.” Back on the couch, Cara asks, “What did you guys feel like? What happened?” Sidney replies, “We looked at her and we were like, ‘are you blind? This is a perfect child. She’s gorgeous.”

Cara’s mother says, “My first instinct was to protect you because I knew, you know, that it wasn't gonna be easy.” A brief shot is shown of baby Cara with her mother, followed by several still images. The first is of an older Cara sitting at a school table with classmates. The second is one of her being carried bridal style by a teenage boy. The third is of her at some event with several classmates. Her narration says, “Once I get to high school, it changed, when I really started to feel it at like 14, 15.”

On the couch Sidney says, “Do you remember and we went to the Natural History Museum, maybe, in Chicago? There was a group of Cub Scouts. One of the cubs saw you and pointed you out to the others.” Cara nods, and Sidney continues, “Well, the display cases were large and you were trying to kind of duck around the display case. And that was just—” Cara cuts in and says, “That used to be my tactic, was to hide behind things to like get away. You don't want to be seen and, like, pointed at.”

As she continues speaking, more photos are shown. One shows her with three friends, presumably her friend and their respective prom dates. The next is a photo of young Cara in a white dress with flowers in her hair. Cara’s narration says, “It was the first time I realised that people don't even realise that they're prejudiced, they just do things because they think it's, well, of course this is the way it is.”

The outside of her house is briefly shown, followed by a shot of a basketball hoop. Now outside, Cara says, “There's no one happier than a happier kid, which I was often, but I also . . . when there's disappointment it's pretty low and I had quite a few knocks. It taught me very early to fight and stand up for myself.” She is shown back inside looking at a photo album with her family. One of the photos shows young Cara with face paint and a red and white apron. Back outside, Cara continues, “When you hit a certain point in your adult years, it does wear you out.”

The next sequence shows Cara on a train. Her narration says, “I want to hear from others in the community, so I'm headed to meet Rebecca Coakley, a former Obama appointee who oversaw diversity efforts from the administration. Two of her children also have dwarfism.” Cara is shown walking up to a house and is welcomed inside by Rebecca, a white woman with dwarfism. Inside, Cara greets a small child with, “Hi.” The child says, “Hi.” Cara says, “How are you?” The child smiles shyly and says, “Good.” The camera briefly pans over to another small child, who is smiling.

A scene of Rebecca in the kitchen is shown, followed by a photo of her with President Obama and a group of others. She is then shown sitting on her couch, with text introducing her as a Disability rights activist. Rebecca’s narration says, “When I worked in the administration, I had a meeting with the civil rights leader who told me that he found it so inspirational that President Obama would hire a handi-capable person like me. You know, it's a great example of charity that you're here and I remember just being like, OK we just need to move on at this point because otherwise there' s going to be an incident, I don't want an incident.” A shot is shown of her children at the table eating. Back on the couch, she says, “People don’t believe the shit that averages say to us until they actually witness it and then it’s like,  they've been pulled out of the matrix and they're like, oh my God. This is a real thing.”

Cara asks, “Why do you think that the prejudice still exists?”

Rebecca replies, “You can't erase vaudeville, you can't erase the fact that our people were bought and sold across circuses as actual literal property. The fact that our people were forcibly bred to create more entertainers.” Several black and white clips play. The first is a line of dwarves in wedding clothes. The next is a man and a woman on a stage dancing for a crowd. The next is a dwarf man knocking a man in a fat suit to the ground in front of a group of spectators. Back on the couch, Rebecca continues, “The fact that we still have people perpetuating a lot of that doesn't help.”

Cara says, “People in our own community.” And Rebecca repeats, “People in our own community.” A clip from a show is shown where several dwarf women in American football jerseys get in a fight, with one grabbing a platter to hit the others with. The next clip shows a dwarf man dancing on a stage with a city skyline backdrop. It is revealed that he is dancing for a panel of judges on a show. Rebecca says, “When you see shows that perpetuate the idea that we're clowns. That doesn't make it easier for those of us out here trying to change the world for the better and get humanity to perceive us more as humans.”

A black and white clip is shown of a dwarf in clown makeup shaking a child’s hand. The next is a colourised clip of a dwarf and an average in fighting shorts. The dwarf is circling the average. The next is a colorised clip of a dwarf at a baseball game being handed a bat and throwing it at the ball. Cara says, “The fetishisation of dwarfs has long been part of American popular culture. From the mid-1800s to the mid-1900s, the bodies of little people were objectified  as entertainment at sideshows and exhibits. In the early 20th century, midget villages were built. Miniature cities that average-height people could tour and watch people with dwarfism live their daily lives.”

A black and white sequence shows one of these miniature cities, with a few average people walking among a crowd of dwarves in formal wear. The next clip shows an average standing on a box surrounded by other average people. Directly in front of him are a few dwarves, and the average in the middle is saying, “I'm going to show you the size of these little people, by having them sit down one in each one of my hands.” He picks up two of them and shows them to the crowd as he says, “And when you go in here, you're going to see 158 of them.” A shot of a crowd is shown as Cara says, “America's obsession with our size has left a lasting and damaging image that has continued to this day.”

Next, Cara is shown walking up to another house. Her narration says, “To understand more, I've come to meet Marc Hartzman, a sideshow enthusiast and author.”

Marc opens his door, and he and Cara both say “hi” and “nice to meet you.” Inside, Marc pulls a photo out of a display case and hands it to Cara as he asks, “Did you get Tom Thumb. And his wife?” The photo is a sepia photo of Tom and his wife in their wedding clothes. Cara’s narration says, “He also collects vintage images of dwarves.”

Cara and Marc are shown in his couch. He is introduced as the author of American Sideshow. He is showing her photos in a book as he says, “I think she was the world’s lightest woman. I think ever. These are the wild man of Borneo. But their real names were Barney and Harem Davis of Long Island.”

Cara asks, “What was the attraction seeing little people in sideshows?”

Marc occasionally gestures at his book as he answers, “With anyone in sideshow, it was they were somebody different. Right, so you had the tall people, you had the super-thin people, the very heavy people. Anything that was different and then you have of course the little people. And so this was something you didn't see very often. Because they thought they were cute little people and ‘look how adorable they are.’ They were unique and they were dressed up like a perfect little miniature adult. I find it inspirational always that these people were able to take the situation they were in and make the most of it and live a life. They were in many ways really extraordinary.”

Cara responds, “To me it kind of dehumanises people that have differences. For you, like, you're seeing this and like this has changed but for us, we still see this. Like, in our life.” Marc makes a noise of acknowledgement. Cara goes on, “Seeing midget villages that's something that gets screamed at me a lot. Like, just in the streets and stuff. So when you see it written down and that people were—”

Marc interjects to ask, “The term ‘midget,’ you mean?”

Cara answers, “Oh yeah, like people just scream stuff at me.”

Marc asks, “People really say that at you?”

Cara nods and says, “Every day. Every day.”

Marc says, “That's amazing. I would think people would look and try not to look.”

Cara says, “It's just, I see these voyeuristic photos of these people’s bodies, and that’s me going on the subway.”

Marc says, “Right.”

More shots from inside Marc’s house are shown as Cara’s narration says, “I left feeling like Marc didn't quite understand how harmful sideshows were and their effect on how dwarves continue to be seen. There is violence and objectifying people and their bodies. It's not inspirational that we had to trade on our appearance in order to make a living.”

A wide shot of a city is shown with underlined white text that says, “Indianapolis, Indiana.” Cara’s narration says, “Remnants of the sideshow continue to exist. In Indianapolis, I've come to meet a traveling group of dwarfed wrestlers, called the micro wrestlers.” She is shown walking up to a trailer with a group of people outside, one of whom is an average who shakes her hand. Her narration says, “Jack Hillegass runs the show, a full-scale WWE-type event with an entire cast under five-feet tall.”

The wrestlers are shown exiting the trailer, and then the video cuts to clips inside. Cara’s narration says, “In the venue, there was an excitable, heavy-drinking crowd that more than once mistook me for a wrestler.” She is shown walking through a crowd. The next shot introduces two of the wrestlers, with Cara’s narration saying, “Jacob Brooks is from Mississippi and has been wrestling since high school. He earns $300 a night wrestling under the name Little Show the Redneck Brawler.”

Jacob and Cara are shown talking. Cara asks, “Was this always your dream to be a wrestler?”

Jacob says, “Yeah.”

Cara asks, “Like, this was it?”

Jacob says, “Yeah, this is it. You know, because I don't really know what else I can do. I mean, I'm pretty good at it. I gonna get up there and do stuff that they'd never thought they'd see a little person do. Because, my man, you know, we bleed the same, our hearts are the same we're just little. We're just short stature.” He is shown oiling his leg.

Cara asks, “What was it like growing up? The two of you? As little people, you were the only ones.” The camera pans to a man who is presumably Jacob’s brother.

Jacob answers, “Yeah, like our dad he grew us up, he's like, look worrying, world's not gonna feel sorry for you because you're short. Whenever he found out that we wanna wrestle, he’s like, ‘you sure that’s what y’all want to do?’ I was like, ‘yes, sir!’ He was like, ‘if you go and do it, you’re gonna be the best at it.’”

A clip of the crowd is shown as an announcer says, “Micro camp’s number one, from the barren lands of Mississippi, this is the Redneck Brawler, Little Show.” Jacob is shown approaching the ring in the center of the crowd with his arms raised. Inside the ring, he speaks into a microphone and says something unintelligible, followed by, “I’m going to chew them up and spit them out. Because I am the Redneck Brawler!” At these last words, he points directly at the camera as the crowd cheers.

Cara narrates over shots of the wrestling. She says, “I was ready to hate what I saw but I was impressed by the athleticism and talent of the wrestlers. They fly through the air, fling each other across the ring, jump from the top ropes. But at the same time, there was lots of laughing from the crowd. More than once I heard people say how cute they thought they were, and I couldn't help but feel that our bodies were yet again being exploited for the sake of entertainment.”

She continues, “Backstage, I spoke to the owner Jack Hillegass.” She is shown talking to Jack, the white average who had shaken her hand outside the trailer. She asks, “What’s the attraction of micro wrestling?”

Text introduces Jack as the co-owner of Micro Championship Wrestling as he says, “It's not the wrestling. People are here for the little people, and they leave intoxicated because they  couldn't believe the athleticism that they saw.” More wrestling clips are shown.

Cara asks, “Do you ever feel like you’re exploiting little people?”

Jack answers, with a few shots of the wrestlers interspersed with shots of his face. He says, “You can't exploit someone if they're doing something they love. You know, these were kids that were born with a disadvantage in life and they were told, you're not gonna be able to work normal jobs like most people. Now they're living their dreams as professional wrestlers. This is like my third group of little people who have worked for me and this by far is my most talented and most cohesive group of kids.”

A shot is shown of someone taking a picture of Jack with the wrestlers on a mobile phone. The photographer says “Here we go, one two three, say ‘micro.’” The people being photographed say, “Micro!”

They hug, and then Cara is shown saying, “I left with sort of like a complicated perception. In one hand, like, they're super athletic, they're very talented at what they do, so I guess my problem is that when you've got a marginalised group, like little people, like us, does it hurt the cause? And I don't know.” More wrestling clips are shown, and Cara continues, “Do we tell them to stop doing it? Just because some drunk people can't see past their height. I don't know. I don't know.” She shakes her head.

A wide shot of a city is shown with underlined white text that says, “Los Angeles, California.” Cara’s narration says, “Los Angeles, where for generations the image of little people has been defined.”

Cara is shown walking along pavement with a Latina dwarf. Cara’s narration says, “Selena Luna is a Mexican-American actor, who's trying to change that representation. She's featured in Pixar's Coco, starred in Margaret Cho's the Cho Show and toured with Dita Von Teese's burlesque show.” Clips from each of these are shown as Cara mentions them.

A building labelled, “Improv comedy club” is shown. Cara’s narration explains, “Lately she's been focusing on her stand-up comedy career.”

Selena is shown performing on stage. She says, “So over the holidays, I went to a Christmas party with a host, took it upon himself to hire a bunch of little people to dress up as Christmas elves and hand out appetisers. All night, party guests kept coming up to me, it’s like, ‘oh well, where’s your little uniform?’ What? Like a little bitch just can't be at a party?”

The crowd, including Cara, laughs. In the next sequence, Cara and Selena are sitting on a long white couch in front of a decorated wall with a neon purple sign that says, “Hello darling.” Cara asks, “What's your view of using your comedy to change the representation game for little people?”

Text introduces Selena as an actress and comedian. She answers, “If I try to illustrate to people that we have regular experiences like anyone else, I mean that's what I talk a lot about my marriage, you know, I have a normal-sized husband, and I talk about that, and people are shocked that I'm not married to like a Keebler elf, you know?” Cara laughs. Selena goes on, “I don't understand how little people are kind of like, I don't know how to say this, the last acceptable blackface in the world portrayed in entertainment as a creature, a mystical monster. Why is it not important for little people to be represented in a dignified manner?”

Cara says, “I think everybody who has support for us has to kind of come out of that and work through it and it can take a really long time. When did you have that moment where you were like, I'm going to figure this out?”

Selena answers, “When I was 35 years old, where I turned the corner and I finally accepted this is my circumstance, I need to live with it without anger, without resentment and create a life for myself that I create, that I make work without depending on outside validation.”

Cara is shown in the back of a car. The city goes by as her narration says, “Like Selena, I had to push past my own anger to create a positive identity for myself.”

The next shot is from the back of a university lecture hall. Cara’s narration says, “Joseph Stramondo, a professor of philosophy and bioethics at San Diego State University has written much about embracing that identity.”

The video cuts to the front, where Joseph is mid-sentence and is saying, “a particular kind of action that violates our duty.”

The next shot shows Cara walking alongside Joseph’s wheelchair somewhere outside. They are then sat at a table, and Joseph is saying, “There is thousands of years of mainstream culture defining the meaning of what it is to bea little person but to them that identity is the Oompa Loompas, a freak show.” Cara is shown nodding. Text introduces Jospeh as a Professor of philosophy and bioethics. He says, “The question is, do you think I understand that this has the potential to be a positive identity? That can originate from the community itself and that isn't placed upon them? In order for the community to succeed in defining itself, we need to be given the cultural space to do that, right? We need to be allowed to tell others what it means to be a little person, in a sense, right? So that’s what we’re fighting for.”

A shot is shown of Rebecca, the first person Cara visited, walking with her husband and kids. On a bench outside, Cara asks her, “How do you see their future? And do you have hope that the world’s going to change so it’s gonna be better for them?”

Rebecca answers, “I would like them to not really feel like their expectations have to be perceived through like an abled gaze, that they can have a career, that they can have a family, the skills and knowledge that they need to push back.” The sequence ends with an extended shot of one of Rebecca’s children riding their scooter.

In the back of a car, Cara looks out the window. Scenes from the video are repeated as her narration says, “I've spent the last few months exploring dwarfism in a deeper way than I ever have before. I've realised that the oppression of little people deeply rooted in American culture is one of the last accepted forms of discrimination. In many ways, it still defines our lives but the people I've met during this journey have made me understand that there is a thriving movement to reclaim our identity based not in the way society sees us but by the way we see ourselves.”

The video ends with a cut to The Guardian’s logo and the credits, which read: Dwarfism and Me Director, camera, edit: Tom Silverstone Executive Producer: Katie Lamborn Reporter: Cara Reedy Colour Grade: Lee Eaton Sound Mix: Guy Hixon

Description end.

Cara Reedy's Being a Little Person in America: 'We're Still Treated as Less Than Human' details the discrimination that people with dwarfism face, and the history that fuels it. If you're looking to learn about the lives of little people today, I highly recommend this short documentary!!

"There is violence in objectifying people and their bodies. It's not inspirational that we had to trade on our appearance in order to make a living"

"The oppression of little people deeply rooted in American culture is one of the last accepted forms of discrimination"

[blinddragonmetalart]

Wood collage plays with shadows

Webelos Cub Scouts that are working on the art pin are required to make something from wood or plastic. This project was modified from a similar work of art I saw at UWF. It was a starburst that was about four or five feet square. When you first look at the collage, you see the star burst, but on closer inspection, you see Army men, ball point pens, bubble gum machine toys, party favors, paper clips, bread bag clips, pony beads and all sorts of small plastic items. All of this was spray painted silver, a color that reflects light and creates shadows among the items.

When my husband and I were leading Webelos, we made a similar project from small plastic items. Each scout was given a piece of Masonite (thin particle board). Floor tile adhesive (used to lay a linoleum floor) was spread over the entire surface using a grooved trowel made for that purpose. Then the boys arranged the plastic items in the glue. It took about an hour for the glue to dry. Then the artwork was spray painted silver or gold.

The work pictured is similar, but made of wood. It works better than the plastic project because white glue doesn’t smell. White glue can be applied to each item instead of the whole background, which eliminates the race against time to get the pieces on before the glue dries. The wood absorbs the water in the glue, allowing it to dry quickly.

The background is a piece of one-inch lumber, sanded smooth. Wood putty was applied to the grain ends of the board to make them smooth. Any type of thin wood will do for the background.

Mark the center of the back, and nail a picture hanger to the back of the work first. Once the other items have been glued to the front, it will not be possible to do this. If this is a group or class project, write the student’s name on the back at this time as well.

Turn the board over, and start gluing small wood shapes to the front with white glue. The items include wood shapes left over from country crafts, Popsicle sticks, clothes pins, wooden beads, small wood items used in cabinet making, wide craft sticks or tongue depressors that were cut into diamonds and squares, and scraps left over from other woodworking projects that were sliced thin with a band saw.

I would like the arrangement better if it had saw dust glued in between the items to give it more of a one-piece look, and more variety between big and small items.

When the glue is dry, paint the arrangement gold or silver. This project was painted with acrylic paint and a paintbrush that was stiff enough to go into the little cracks and spaces. Acrylic paint takes more time than spray paint, but it doesn’t smell and has fewer drips.

In addition to teaching radial symmetry, this project practices fine motor skills in gluing, placing small objects and using a paint brush.

[homeschoolbase]

I might start homeschooling my 1st grade son after the holiday break this year.

I might start homeschooling my 1st grade son after the holiday break this year.

Little backstory first: My son started K at our local public school last year and had a rough time, so we transferred him to an independent school by October (after only 2 months). The teacher kept calling me all the time saying he was being disruptive and she couldn't teach. She put him on "red" on her clip chart most days and/or sent him to the principal's office. It increased his anxiety, so then the counselor got involved and started seeing him and asked me if we had anything going on at home and I explained, "no, it's his teacher and school that is causing this". UGH.

He seemed much happier and the anxiety immediately decreased when we switched to the independent school. The K teacher at this new school had a lot of experience, was warm and friendly and accommodating, so she was a good fit for him. Well now this year, he's at that same independent school, but he's having some clashes with the 1st grade teacher. She's nice but stricter, and not as flexible as the other teacher, so now he's not looking forward to going to school every day and has been bringing comfort items like a stuffie and blanket to ride on the bus. Poor guy!

He's had 2 evals by psychologists, and the 1st one was with the public school district. She observed him at the end of preK and basically said he was gifted and will certainly need a curriculum to challenge him and engage his interests, but warned that because he was delayed in social skills, that he could have a tough time in school and suggested further evaluation. Well, the public school did not qualify him for special services because they said as long as their data shows he's learning "some", then he cannot be given access to special services.

In May at the end of K year, I saw a different psychologist and she said he was mildly on the autism spectrum. He's already been getting occupational and physical therapy over a year now because he was showing some physical deficits and it's only helping marginally. We're not 100% sure he actually is on the spectrum. A pragmatic language specialist said he communicates in ways that a child on the spectrum would not be able to do, so we're a little confused if his diagnosis is correct.

There's also some focus issues. He can focus GREAT if he's engaged and interested in the subject, and does not if he's not interested, which leads to the lack of cooperative behavior at school. He is an AMAZING reading listener. I pull out a book and that kid will sit and listen for an hour. I can ask him questions, and he will answer them correctly most of the time so I know he is comprehending too. I am reading books meant for 9-12 year olds, Harry Potter, Stink the Shrinking kid, A Child's Intro to Greek Mythology and others from this series, Bean & Ivy series, and he is reading books at a DRA of 25-30. I'm not forcing it, he just picks them up and reads. Teacher sends home a few books in the range of DRA 16-18 and he doesn't want to read them and says they are boring and he's already read them like 5 or 6 times. (I've mentioned this to her a few times).

So, now he's feeling disheartened by school this year and he and I both want to try homeschool. He's very excited about the idea of being able to choose areas to focus on. I told him I expect him to get some learning done and we aren't going to just play with toys all day, but that there would be more time if we finish up some work in the morning. I plan to do a combination of teaching him some traditional lessons from public school, then having a long reading time where he can read some, and I can read to him, then he can choose something to study of his interest.

The drawback is, I'm frankly not very social/outgoing. I've already scouted out a few homeschool groups in our area and we could join 1-2 times per week for field trips and play dates, but I know I won't be doing social groups every day. That would be too exhausting! He is doing boy scouts now, and that certainly gives him social outlet. I also thought about taking him out to get more physical activity, like swimming at the community center or going to a trampoline park to help address some of those physical delays. Another challenge at school, is the teacher and peers have a hard time getting him to cooperate in P.E. or the dance videos they do in class as a break. He just sits and watches. But, at home when me and little brother do stuff like that, he joins in about half the time.

Soooo, the tuition at his independent school was $16,000!! Imagine what I could do with some of those funds if we spent it on homeschool instead?? Also, my husband works at home, so I can even leave him at home if I have a dr's appt.

Are there any other potential issues I am overlooking with this possible homeschool experiment? At this point, I feel like we really should try it, after hearing constant negative feedback from school. They admit he's a sweet, smart boy, but the distractive behavior and not cooperating and following directions makes it hard for most teachers to deal with him. :-(

​

tl;dr: thinking of pulling my 1st grader out of school after Christmas break to try out homeschooling him. I already have a loose plan/idea in my mind of how we will tackle the learning. He's twice exceptional, very smart, but has some social and physical strength and coordination delays. I get complaints from teachers every single year (even in preK) that he doesn't follow directions and is disruptive in class. We don't have nearly the same level of problems at home, only minor and I usually can get him to do what I need him to do. Does he sound like a good homeschool candidate? We are in Arkansas, so we only need to file the intent to homeschool with the superintendent. No testing or certain curriculum required.

[ethanalter]

Jay Baruchel wishes we all could've seen 'Justice League: Mortal': 'It was going to be special'

Jay Baruchel spreads the word about his film Goon: Last of the Enforcers at Build Studio on August 29, 2017 in New York (Photo: Rob Kim/Getty Images)

With Wonder Woman standing tall as summer’s reigning box office superhero, all eyes now turn to Justice League to keep the DC Extended Universe on a winning streak. Eight years ago, though, excitement circled a very different Justice League feature: Justice League: Mortal, a motion capture-enhanced would-be blockbuster from director George Miller, who had employed that process for sequences from his Oscar-winning 2006 hit, Happy Feet.

Among its cast was comic book superfan Jay Baruchel, who wishes we all could see what we missed when Miller’s Justice League was scrapped after an extensive pre-production process. “It was going to be something special,” the Canadian actor told Yahoo Movies while chatting about his latest film, Goon: Last of the Enforcers, the sequel to the 2011 hockey comedy he’s directed, which opens in theaters and on VOD on Sept. 1.

The script by husband-and-wife team Kieran and Michele Mulroney would have pitted the League against a self-aware robotic army created by Batman himself. (To be fair, the Dark Knight intended them to be good guys, in much the same way that Tony Stark had initially hoped that Ultron would take some of world-saving burden off the Avengers’ shoulders in Avengers: Age of Ultron.) Baruchel’s role was as flesh-and-blood bad guy Maxwell Lord, who would’ve been on the ‘bots side.

George Miller in 2017, eight years after Justice League: Mortal ended before it began. (Photo: Brendon Thorne/Getty Images)

Baruchel gets excited describing Mortal‘s “unique” depiction of DC’s big two: the Caped Crusader (Armie Hammer) and the Man of Steel (D.J. Cotrona).  “The Superman suit we were going to use is still my favorite that I’ve ever seen,” he raves. “From afar it looked normal, but if you got real close you saw that all of the blue [parts] were covered in super-small Kryptonian writing. It was just gorgeous.”

Hammer’s Batman, on the other hand, had seen better days. “It was a beat-up characterization,” Baruchel remembers. “You saw him bleed, get hurt and get his nose broken. There were pins sticking out of his knee! It was serious and brutal, and kind of what you think it would be with George Miller.”

Both Cotrona and Hammer endured brutal workouts to get into character, Baruchel recalls. “When I got down to [Australia, where the film was being shot], they had already been there for two months and were training like mad men every day,” he says. “They would do weight training one day, and fight training the next. They were going hard, hard, hard.”

Armie Hammer and D.J. Cotrona were cast as Batman and Superman in Justice League: Mortal (Photo: Getty Images)

Baruchel also added a few more details about Mortal‘s epic throwdown between Superman and Wonder Woman, which he teased during a recent appearance on the Happy Sad Confused podcast. In the sequence, the Amazon warrior (Megan Gale) would have been trading blows with a brainwashed Big Blue Boy Scout. “There was going to be a bad-ass fight in a skyscraper in Metropolis [that spilled] out into the street where they’re throwing parked cars at each other,” Baruchel says with glee. He was equally jazzed about Common‘s version of Green Lantern, which he says might have pleased fans who were left lukewarm by the Emerald Knight Ryan Reynolds eventually played in the 2011 misfire. “It was a much cooler, much less of an a–hole take on Lantern,” Baruchel says.

Although Mortal‘s Wonder Woman/Superman fight was never shot, images of it likely exist as part of the voluminous amount of pre-visualizations and concept art sketched by Miller’s production team. And that material may yet see the light of day: Australian filmmaker Ryan Unicomb hopes to make a documentary about Mortal in the vein of Jodorowsky’s Dune or The Death of “Superman Lives”: What Happened? “The world deserves to see the production design, costumes, and pre-viz,” Baruchel says. “In my 20-plus years of being in movies and TV, it’s still some of the best [concept] art I’ve ever seen.”

While Baruchel — who has written comic books himself and was recently named the COO of Canada’s largest comic publisher, Chapterhouse Publishing — enjoyed his brief time as the adversary of DC’s supreme super-team, the comics character closest to his heart remains Marvel’s gun-toting vigilante, The Punisher. As a fan, he says, he’s repeatedly been let down by attempts to bring Frank Castle to the big screen. “The Thomas Jane one is just ridiculous,” he says of Jonathan Hensleigh’s 2004 film. “I’ve never seen the Punisher in daylight so often!” There’s plenty of darkness, and violence, in Lexi Alexander’s 2008 reboot, Punisher: War Zone, but that film also fell short for Baruchel. “The violence in War Zone is good and close to the comic. But that’s the only thing the movie gets right.”

Jon Bernthal as The Punisher in Marvel’s Daredevil(Photo: Netflix)

Because of those past disappointments, he’s taken his time checking out the current screen incarnation of the character, played by Jon Bernthal in Netflix‘s corner of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. After making his well-received debut in the second season of Daredevil, Bernthal’s Punisher is getting his own solo series later this year.

“I haven’t seen Daredevil,” Baruchel admits. “Part of that is happenstance and part of it is that I’m a bit beaten up as a Punisher fan. But I should watch it, because I know the show’s coming. He means the world to me as a character, and I hear [Bernthal] is a good steward and vessel.”

Jay Baruchel on representing Canadian culture:

Read more from Yahoo Movies:

Common reveals secrets of George Miller’s ‘super-dope’ ‘Justice League’ movie

Seann William Scott turns to a rival for help in ‘Goon: Last of the Enforcers’ clip

George Miller reflects on ‘Mad Max’ saga, ‘Witches of Eastwick,’ more in Yahoo Movies’ Director’s Reel