#that's gonna be the au tag for my own sake

[orioncore]

the dialogue is kinda wonky so ignore that but have some more au content yippee

transcript of the text below

rinne ( <- broke into Shu's workroom): heeey shu-kun~!

shu (<- hasn't slept in days): Amagi.

r: I was wonderin', why's there just... an axe on the uh, wall there? And why is "Do not touch" written under it?

s: It's for everyone's sake. Don't touch it.

r: What?

s: If you want to leave this room in one piece, stop asking questions, Amagi.

r: Haha, funny joke Shu-kun. I'm just gonna...

s: Amagi.

mademoiselle in the bg: (<- knows Shu doesn't want Rinne there)

r: what.

s: You don't want to upset the lady.

r: ??????

r: OH FUC-

the axe is mado's. hell hath no fury like a woman with an axe or something

[ilistentogirlinred]

americans being unable to realize that people are not their governments would be funny except for the fact that it really isn't

[tizeline]

More about that Seperation AU! (I'm just gonna tag it as Tiz Sep AU for now for the sake of organization)

Anyway, so if ya'll saw my last post, in this AU Donnie doesn't really have a battle shell, but he DOES wear prosthetics that gives him two extra fingers on each hand. Some people immedietly picked up on the implications of that (which makes me very happy) but I also wanna give a proper explanation, so here it is:

While we don't get a specific explanation in the show as to why Donnie built the battle shell, it's not unreasonable to assume that he would've compared his soft shell with his brothers' hard ones and might've felt a need to compensate. So if he grew up without his brothers, like he did in this AU, would he even feel that pressure to "improve" his shell? Sure, he'd know that most types of turtle species would have a tougher carapace than his own species, but he wouldn't be reminded of that in his everyday life. In fact, while compared to his brothers he's the most fragile one, compared to April and Splinter (who don't have shells at all) he'd be the sturdiest out the the bunch. So in this AU Donnie doesn't use any additional armour (he does still have a jetpack tho because fuck yeah)

So where does the additional fingers come in? While Donnie in this AU doesn't have any other turtles to constantly compare himself to, he WOULD inevitably compare himself to Splinter and April as well as humanity as a whole. All of which have five fingers on each hand as opposed to his three per hand. This isn't the only part of himself that he's insecure about, being seemingly the only turtle boy in a city of humans is bound to make him feel a bit isolated and lonely. He'd feel more pressure to be more human than turtle, and making himself extra fingers, in his mind, would be a way to accomplish that.

It's not JUST insecurity though, there's a practical aspect to having five fingers when you do a lot of handiwork, which is something Donnie does. In fact, I first got the idea when reading the IDW TMNT comics. I don't remember the details but there's a part when Donnie (or rather Metal-Don to be specific, I think?) comments on the fact that it'd be more beneficial to have five rather than three fingers. Ever since then, the concept of Donnie constructing extra fingers for himself to make his work easier is something I've kept in the back of my mind, and I figured this AU was the perfect oppurtunity to explore that.

[uhohbestie]

There Are Monsters Nearby [Chapter 40]

🏜 Pairing: Grian/Scar

🧟‍♂️ Tags: zombie AU, zombie apocalypse, lovers to exes, slow burn, eventual reconciliation

📖 Summary: The day after Scar breaks up with Grian, the dead come back to life. Knowing that venturing out alone is a death sentence, the sudden onset of the apocalypse forces them to stick together despite their tensions. In the wreckage of the world, they're forced to survive side-by-side, coming to terms with the fact that—try as they might—there's still no one they trust more than each other.

Chapter 40 - Grian and Scar spend an afternoon out with Etho and Bdubs. Some unexpected rain leads to a long overdue conversation.

📝 Words: 12,018

🔗 Link: Read Chapter 40 on AO3

—

“Anyway,” Bdubs continues, barrelling on, heedless to Scar’s internal conflict. “It’s a sin to brag, but Etho and I got a hall pass to go out and check the caches today. You two got any interest in tagging along?”

“‘The Caches’?” Grian echoes.

“You’re gonna love it,” Bdubs enthuses, grinning excitedly as he sits forward in his seat. “We’re revitalising shopping in our post-capitalist society.”

“It’s nothing fancy,” Etho offers, wincing with a laugh as Bdubs gasps and jabs into his ribs with an elbow. “We set up some lock-boxes along the main roads in the area. Convenient for other survivors passing through to take what they need.”

“Well don’t take all the wind out of my sails, for pity’s sake!” Bdubs exclaims, making a face of exaggerated frustration before he explains, “Folks can leave things too! It’s a mutually beneficial system of my own invention.”

“It’s take-a-penny leave-a-penny,” Etho insists.

“We’ll come,” Scar agrees, defusing their banter before it has a chance to get too serious.

[ read more ]

—

Chapter 40! :D :D :D You should read this one, I think! For the caches, of course, and nothing more.

You can read the whole fic thus-far in the link below ↓↓↓

You may not rest now, There Are Monsters Nearby (on ao3!)

[princessbrunette]

apocalypse!au jj would def let u grind on his thigh after a scare or stressful day :(

⊹ ׅ ۫ ꒰১ ˖ ˚ ♡ ˚ ˖ ໒꒱ ۫ ׅ ⊹

your hands couldn’t stop shaking as you patch him up, which only increases your frustrations. you were the towns nurse, for gods sake — your hands are meant to be still, reliable, and now you’re cursing to yourself— putting down the medical thread and needle after finally finishing stitching up a wound on jj’s arm, swiping at the angry tears that fall down your cheeks.

it had been a close call. you’d convinced john b into letting you tag along on what you all thought would be a quieter outing, simply scouting out a new location for potential supplies. however, things had taken a turn when one of the infected had come barrelling towards you— meaning jj would throw himself infront of you for your safety. john b shot it down, but jj had fallen into some barbed wire and cut his shoulder pretty bad. it shook you up, especially after not having been outside the gates for so long. he’d nearly died to protect you, and if he had you wouldn’t be sure how you’d live with yourself.

he cups your cheeks, tired eyes staring into your leaking ones as he swipes the tears away. “hi…what’s with the tears, pumpkin?” he coo’s and you sigh, eyeing him obviously. he was covered in grime and blood that was a mixture of his own and the infected. you wondered how he could ask something like that at a time like this. “oh my arm? s’totally fine. i mean you should see the other guy.” he rasps out, still the same joker he always was. he rotates his shoulder, showing you the mobility. “see? good as new, duchess.”

he leans down and kisses your forehead, slowly easing you to straddle his thigh. “i’m not going anywhere. okay? really, you’re gonna have to try alot harder to get rid of me.” he smiles, and you return it with a watery gaze, the blonde then pulling your head down into the crook of his neck so he could hold you on his lap. he can still feel the tension in your body, and instantly knows what you need.

“‘know what i think? i think you were a real good girl for me today. did everything i asked you to. you know i just wanna keep my pretty girl safe.”

he feels you preen under the praise, body already melting more against him. “looked so pretty too. know i should be focusing, but god damn that ass in those little shorts. just wanted to like… grab it, the way i am right now.” as he speaks, his hands slide over the globes of your ass cheeks, pulling you closer in a faux innocent gesture that forced you to grind slightly on his leg.

you let out a quiet hum and he returns it sweetly, if not a little mockingly. “yeah. i think… you just wanna forget. don’t you, babydoll?” he takes on a lower timbre to his voice, nosing at your cheek until you lift your warm face to him, letting him run his lips lightly against yours.

“uh-huh.” you manage, parted lips ghosting over his as he pulls you to roll your hips on his leg repeatedly, the zipper of your tiny denim shorts grinding against your clit through thin panties. his tongue darts out and swipes your bottom lip, hot breath transferring into your own mouth.

“mmmhm.” he presses his lips together and looks down at your connecting bodies with a smile before back up at you. “luckily for you i know jus’ the thing to make you feel better.” he informs, before closing in to connect his lips to yours. turns out, the doctors orders was an orgasm.

⊹ ׅ ۫ ꒰১ ˖ ˚ ♡ ˚ ˖ ໒꒱ ۫ ׅ ⊹

[hxneyfarm]

89 and Steddie 😌

hiiii baby!!! i love this prompt thank you sooooo much!!

89. “YOU SENT ME PICTURES OF YOU NAKED WHILE I WAS IN A WORK MEETING!” word count: 941 tags: modern au, nsfw, mastubation, references to Dom/sub dynamics

After pressing send, Eddie just… waited. He knew he would be waiting for a while, because he knew that Steve was in a meeting right now, but… oh, the reaction he was going to get from that was going to be heavenly. 

Eddie didn’t usually take nudes. Not because he thought they were tacky or anything, he just… he didn’t really care to take the time to set up anything special, and sending Steve a picture of his hard cock in his fist just seemed like twenty somethings shit. They were above that. They were married for fuck’s sake. Who sends their husband a bad picture of their hard dick in their fist at thirty five years old, y’know?

This one was good, though. Eddie had just gotten out of the shower after knocking out a couple chapters of the new novel he was writing, and his skin was glistening with water droplets. The sunlight that was coming through the bedroom window was hitting Eddie’s skin just so, and so he stood in front of their full length mirror and snapped a few pictures on his phone. His cock and balls looked terrific, if Eddie could be so fucking bold - wet and heavy and half hard after spending his entire shower thinking about Steve.

Maybe later, when Steve got home from work, he would be in such a frenzy over the pictures that he would just have to rip all of his husband’s clothes off and have his wicked way with him.

Laying back on the bed, Eddie tugged at himself a few times at the thought, bringing himself to full hardness in a few short strokes. He could picture it now, Steve getting out of his meeting and seeing the photos, his face turning that lovely shade of red it so often did when he was turned on in public. He would call Eddie, compliment the picture, promise things for when he gets home.

Eddie was fully hard now, precome leaking from his slit as he really got into it. With his head thrown back, fucking into his fist, Eddie groaned. He thought of Steve again, how Steve’s been having a hard time keeping his hands off of Eddie for weeks now, how he would get home from work every day recently wanting to lay Eddie out on the bed and fuck him till dinnertime.

Eddie wasn’t exactly gonna complain. He loved Steve, he loved sleeping with Steve. The things they did together was like nothing Eddie had ever done before with a lover. 

When he thought about their sex life, Eddie was reminded of all the firsts he’d shared with Steve; the first time Steve tied him up, the first time Steve choked him, the first time Steve bent him over his lap and spanked him. Eddie had called Steve Daddy more than he ever even called his own father that as a child and y’know what? Good. 

Eddie was starting to get into it now, thinking about Steve fucking into him from behind, from above him, from below him while Eddie ride his cock. He was pumping his fist, stroking himself, the sound of it wet in the quiet of their bedroom. His chest was hot with sweat, the sensation of his approaching release beginning to build in his balls and his gut, and just when Eddie was almost there, his phone rang.

Steve.

“Hey, baby,” he panted into the phone. “Thinkin’ about you right now.”

“YOU SENT ME PICTURES OF YOU NAKED WHILE I WAS IN A WORK MEETING!” 

Steve’s tone brought Eddie up short. He sounded accusatory. He sounded mad.

“Uh, yeah? Why, did you not like them?”

Steve sighed. “No. Babe. I loved them. Obviously. But you know who didn’t like them? Human fucking Resources. The founding goddamn partners of the firm. I could have lost my fucking job just now, Eddie.”

Oh. Oh shit.

“Oh, shit, sweetheart, what happened?”

Eddie’s stomach dropped and he was… soft. Eddie was laying there, butt ass naked on their bed with his flaccid dick in his hand, his heart pounding at the idea of Steve’s bosses - whom Eddie had alreadt met several times at the office holiday parties - seeing pictures of Eddie’s cock. How the fuck would that even happen?

“So you know my MacBook is attached to my phone, right? That’s kinda the whole thing with Apple products?”

“Oh, shit.”

“Yeah. Oh, shit. I was fucking presenting my proposal, Eds. It’s the end of the fucking quarter. We’re making numbers, thanks to me, and this proposal… goddammit, Eddie. We had to call a stop to the meeting. The pictures, they…”

“Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah. They were cropped… not well.” Steve sighed again. “I hope you’re embarrassed and I hope you know you’re going to be hearing about it at the Christmas party this year.”

“Jesus Christ. Did anyone see my dick?”

“Yeah!” Steve laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Everyone saw your dick. God, at least it’s a nice dick. One of the women on my team congratulated me.”

Eddie groaned. “Was it Sandra?”

“Yeah.”

“How long’s it gonna be till people at work can laugh about it?”

“Oh, Eds, I’m pretty sure they’re already laughing about it. I did have to meet with HR, though. You can’t be doing that shit.”

“Yeah,” Eddie sighed. “Yeah, I’m sorry. Other than that, how’d the meeting go?”

And Steve laughed. It was a beautiful sound, that laugh. It was like music. And Eddie has always loved music. Almost as much as he loved Steve.

[collisiondiscourse]

Hello I just saw your art of the different Kacchans and now I desperately need a list of bkdk fanfic recs from you

IVE BEEN PSYCHICALLY BEGGING FOR SOMEONE TO ASK ME THIS THANK FUCK!!!!! ok SO. i have my own particular lists of fic recs. theyre all organized in diff ways depending on how im feeling, but for the sake of aligning with the fics i rec'd in that post, im gonna suggest long and plotty fics!

warning that some of these fics have triggering topics and/or are nsfw! so be sure to read the tags n protect yourself as needed ^^ all fics have a wordcount of 5+ digits

FIRST you got the fandom classics. the way you used to do, incinerate, zero: birth of the worlds best hero duo, and fire lily -- these are all EXTREMELY plot heavy n angsty, meaning you'd kinda need a break right?

SO then you have your fluff monsters. surprise reunions and childhood rekindling and you left a sour aftertaste by my wife, @lady-of-snails, sugar stardust, and dance with me

then you move on to the canon divergents! not too much of an AU to leave heroes, but enough to alter the plot. before midnight, second chance, landscape after cruelty, and while you were sleeping,

and then then THEN you get to the REAL AUs. the shit thats out of scope. fluff monsters were kind of these, but i had to separate it cause these next ones are ANGST BEASTS.... someone borrowed, mechanical bull, and beyond sea and storm

but at the end of the day, we all gotta return to the basics at some point right? so here i end it with the naturally fluffy (relatively shorter) canon compliants and future aus. grief counseling, play it cool, do not disturb, and sneku

[piratefalls]

it's been a week and it's only tuesday. my brain is so tired i almost uploaded a snapshot of my dog's vet records. here's the greatest hits of everything i've read in the last week. (mind the tags on a few!)

masterlist

might blow up in your pretty face by crybabie

“I see you liked my gift,” Alex’s voice was light, but lower than Henry had ever heard it. His belly swooped at the sound. And then the words caught up with him. “Gift?” He felt the color drain from his face and frantically reopened Snapchat to confirm his worst fucking nightmare: his most recent outgoing messages had been sent to Alex, and all of them had been opened already. “Playing dumb doesn’t suit you,” Alex told him, still teasing, but he sounded muffled through the ringing in Henry’s ears. “I gotta say, I wasn’t expecting you to even acknowledge them, let alone send pictures. They look good on you.” - or, the next box was indeed full of thongs :)

When I Met You (I Could Not Speak) by @sparklepocalypse

Following the latest string of disastrous first dates with beautiful women to whom he’s decidedly unattracted, and with yet another circular argument with Philip about duty still ringing in his ears, Henry’s summarily fled to the countryside. Here at least, he reasons, there’s no pressure to woo the locals. (A modern fairy tale AU.)

A thousand dreams that would awake me by @kiwiana-writes

“It’s not about punishment.” Alex just nods; Henry had been very clear on the form that he wasn’t looking to be dominated or put in his place, so that won’t be new information. “And it’s not the pain as such.” He runs his fingers along the edge of the mug. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like to feel it, but I’m not looking for pain for the sake of pain. It’s more about… control, I think.” There’s a long silence. “Taking it?” Alex prompts finally. “Or giving it up?” “Does it sound ridiculous if I say both?” Or, Henry visits a sex club to get spanked the way he's craving.

Foreign Bodies by clottedcreamfudge

“We both know it's not a doctor you need,” Henry says, sharp and beautiful, hands hovering just in front of him like he wants to touch Alex, but knows exactly how it would be received; like he knows Alex would burst into fucking flames at the first brush of his fingertips. Three hours ago, Alex had been quite happy to live without being burned. Now, he thinks he'd pay for the privilege.

Well It Ain't Missionary by everwitch

Alex Claremont-Diaz, a ballet dancer, is asked to list his ‘favorite positions.’ His hilariously suggestive answer goes viral, as does the unexpectedly flustered reaction to it by the Internet’s very own FoxySexEd. So obviously, Alex has to slide into Henry’s DMs. How could he resist? When a man that attractive wants your dick, only a fool would pass. Henry is surprising. He wants to be pushed around, thrown for a loop, and he wants Alex to do it for him. But whenever Alex tries to soften his landing, Henry clams up like he’s been burned. Alex can work around that, obviously. He's a dancer. If you're gonna toe the line just right, pointe shoes are a must. Or: Alex and Henry fuck. Not in missionary.

all my time is yours to spend by smc_27

Any way you look at it, Bea is not meant to be here, and if it were just the lights, he’d assume she forgot to turn them off. The fire burning is another thing entirely. The weather has been dreadful, and perhaps her flight was canceled. Surely, she’d have told him as much. He should investigate.

i told myself don't get attached (but in my mind i play it back) by coffeecatsme

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Claremont-Diaz,” the woman behind the counter says, eyes wide and apologetic. Alex grits his teeth so he doesn’t say something inappropriate in a lobby full of scared families, crying kids, and the obscenely tall British guy that’s currently giving him a fucking migraine. “Due to the snowstorm warning, all the flights are cancelled, and unfortunately the room you’ve booked is currently occupied.” “Occupied,” Alex repeats dumbly, nails digging into his palm. “I booked this room three months ago.” “Yes, well, the previous occupant—” “Should’ve been out of here by now.” Alex knows he sounds harsh, he knows the stupid blond is hovering somewhere behind him listening to the whole conversation, but he can’t help it. He’s not spending what’s supposed to be his vacation alone with another guy in his room. Or, Alex and Henry are stuck in the same room in a hotel during a sudden blizzard

how do you want me? by rizcriz

“Christ,” Henry curses quietly, lowering the camera. “You’re beautiful.” Kneeling on the bed, his ankles crossed behind him, a hand tucked into his briefs, the other carefully weaved through his hair, is Bea’s friend Alex. The light sits on his skin, a delicate shadow of eyelashes fan over his cheeks, and when Henry speaks, he opens his eyes and looks at him from beneath those eyelashes, a careful smirk slipping over his lips. He doesn’t move from the pose, though, as he says, “You’re not so bad yourself, sweetheart.” - Or Henry’s in over his head.

The Next Draft by graceofgrayskull

“This is so unfair,” Alex says, still eyeing Henry. “What?” June asks. “That Henry Fox is talented, successful, and also mind-numbingly good-looking?” says Nora. Alex nods. “Exactly. Like my perfect nemesis. He’s coming for my brand.” -- Alex has read Henry Fox's debut approximately three times in the past three months. The novel, featuring a wary protagonist coming to terms with his sexuality, is garnering Fox critical acclaim. And maybe Alex is a little jealous — his own novel generated a surprising amount of success last year after going viral online, but it just wasn't cut out for the type of buzz Fox was receiving. So Alex jumps at the chance to meet Henry at a book signing, despite knowing very little about the man himself. What starts as a bad first impression quickly leads to fast friendship, many Instagram DMs, and a whole lot of mutual pining.

Shoot Your Shot by RoseHarperMaxwell

Jimmy raises his eyebrows in anticipation. “First celebrity crush?” As usual, Alex’s mouth is moving before his mind can catch up. “Oh,” he gestures, like this is both obvious and the easiest question he’s ever been asked. “Prince Henry.”

No Laughing Matter by inexplicablymine

Ellen is leaning over him, her blonde hair pulled back in a perfectly coiffed updo. He had never managed to understand why exactly she was always dressed so impeccably in her scrubs as a dentist. But she seemed almost presidential, even with the eyeglasses that had magnifying glasses sticking out of them making her look a little like some kind of bug. She only needs a quick look before she is snapping her gloves against her wrists pulling away. “Wisdom teeth come in and then they come out,” she says, and then as an afterthought tack on, “just like you.” Or, who said a meet cute couldn't happen while getting your Wisdom Teeth out?

Love and Hate at the Farmers' Market by @myheartalivewrites

Alex and Henry both work at a farmers' market and they hate each other, until suddenly— oops! They don't!

i'll bet it all on me and you, i'll bet it all you're bulletproof by anincompletelist

“Let’s do this,” he says. “Let’s,” Alex agrees, pushing down on the handle until the door swings open. “After you, boyfriend.” This is most definitely not his finest idea. Henry usually practices much better self preservation skills. Much better common sense skills. He steps over the threshold of Alex’s room and it feels like sealing his fate. They’re doing this for Alex to win over their bosses in a lighthearted game with a harmless lie, but Henry can’t fight off the bitter knowledge that, regardless of how tonight goes, Alex will be fine, but Henry has so much to lose.

in an emergency by metacrisis

Alex gets in his own head about a meme Henry liked and decides to take matters, quite literally, into his own hands. OR, Alex gets a sex toy and other nonsense.

(Valen)Tie Me Up by happinessofthepursuit

“Well, I actually made your gift at one of Pez’s workshops, though I’m sure they would’ve gotten it out of me anyway,” Henry says, voice fond. Alex’s mind is whirring, going through the monthly calendars from Seize the Play. Pez leads classes multiple times a week, but there’s only a few that Henry could’ve attended, and one in particular that would explain his own gift… “Which one?” Alex asks. “I think that’ll immediately be clear.” Or, Alex and Henry exchange gifts for their first Valentine’s together—then proceed to use them.

More Amour by surveycorpsjean

Alex discovers something in Henry's closet that changes everything.

Confidential Memorandum by sherryvalli

"Hello, Mr. Fox-Mountchristen's office. How may I help you?" "Hello, can I speak to Mr. Fox-Mount-krishen, please?" Alex blinked. After two weeks of hearing nothing but the voices of snooty men and frazzled secretaries calling in, the person on the other line now sounded decidedly neither snooty nor male nor in any way adult. It was a little girl. "Mr. Fox-Mountchristen's unfortunately in a meeting right now,” Alex began slowly, “but I could take a message?" "Oh." The girl paused. "You're not Mr. Hunter." Alex starts a new job as Henry's new assistant. Henry's daughter keeps calling the office and leaving him messages.

in bloom by stutteringpeach

Yoo, can u hook me up with some flowers?? It's the busiest day of the year for florists. Alex texts Henry with a last minute request.

don't want you like a best friend by @priincebutt

The thing about marrying your best friend who you also happen to have a very secret crush on, is that you don’t take into account how much it will hurt. When they’re around his family and Alex holds his hand so easily, like it’s second nature, it makes Henry’s heart skip a beat, but when they return back to his apartment the distance is deafening. Alex purposefully sits at the opposite end of the couch, and Alex sleeps in the guest bedroom, and Alex calls him ‘man’ like two bros who definitely aren’t in love with each other. So he pines, and he’s heartbroken already, because he knows how much this is going to shatter him when it’s over. Because Alex is integrating into his life like it’s nothing, like it’s easy and this could be their new normal, and that kind of thinking is fucking dangerous. Or, Alex and Henry get married, conveniently.

everyone adores you (at least i do) by matherine

Rain is coming down in sheets against the stained glass windows of the brownstone when the door swings open, ushering in the howl of the wind and the man Henry loves more than anything in the world. “Why didn’t you use your colonizer blood money to buy a place closer to the train station?” Alex calls from the doorway. Henry hears the familiar rhythm of the lock tumblers turning and Alex’s copy of the key to the brownstone clinking against Henry’s signet ring and the key to the Austin house on his chest, only vaguely muffled by the rain. “It’s miserable out there.” Or: Alex comes into the brownstone in the midst of a rainstorm, and Henry realizes he never wants him to leave.

know how to cover up a scene by HypnosTheory

“That’s how Alvie kisses Harry,” Alex says, squeezing Henry’s wrist. Henry’s eyes dart down to the slight red mark on Alex’s cheek. He hit Alex the last time they were together. Henry didn’t get to watch the bruise form then with Alex between his legs. “That’s why Harry wanders, but he always comes back.” Henry draws in a shaky breath. “Alvie’s a lucky man.” Alex’s eyes drop to Henry’s neck, where the diamond of his pendant hangs amid the forming marks Alex left behind. “Sure is." __ Henry Fox, needing an extraction, must rely on his part-time rival, full-time problem Alex Claremont-Diaz. To get that extraction, Henry needs to pose as Alex's date for a high-stakes dinner. They get in character - and stay that way behind closed doors.

as always, let me know if you want to be tagged, and i'll see you next week!

tagging: @starkfridays @stilesgivesmefeels @midnightsfp @sarahjswift

[beautifulchris]

love die young

wc: 0,5k

pairing: bang chan x gn!reader

summary: after months of young love, you decide it's best to part ways

genres: angst, breakup!au

tw: mention of death (just a thought) and anxiety

notes: this drabble is inspired by love die young by eric nam as requested by my friend. i hope i did it justice and it's angsty enough djdjdj @badwithten 🙏🏼 also the lyrics are in italic and 2/3 chris' thoughts. i'm reposting the works i posted while shadowbanned, please don't mind me

networks: @kflixnet @k-labels @whipped-kpop-creators

permanent tag list: @badwithten send an ask/dm/comment to be added!

prequel to: fate brought us together again

GIF publié par sevengems07

Chris fell in love with you rather quickly. He was attracted to you the second he laid his eyes on you, your beautiful hair complimenting your face nicely.

He got the courage to speak to you after class one day, and your personalities matched perfectly.

It was young love at its finest.

You’d do everything together, without forgetting your respective family and friends.

This amazing relationship was around nine months old. Then, one afternoon at his house, you said something that shook his very core.

“Chris, I have to tell you something.”

“What’s wrong, angel?” he asked, worry in his voice. You rarely called him by his name.

“I— OK, this is gonna be difficult.”

You breathed, throat tight.

You were seated on each side of the couch. At the sight of your dejected state, he moved closer to you, a reassuring hand pressed against your knee.

In his head, he imagined one of your family members passed away. Honestly, he couldn't think of anything else that could put you in such a distressed state.

“I want to break up.”

He thought wrong.

Your words felt like a bomb exploded in his chest. You weren't one to make jokes this hurtful, and he always knew when you lied.

The fact you were being real filled him with confusion and anxiety.

“I don’t understand,” was all he could reply.

Weren't you happy together during the many months you spent together? Was every single moment all a lie? Did he even know you like he thought he did?

“You don't love me anymore?” he resumed, “Did I do something? Is there someone else? Someone better?”

Self deprecating questions spiraling in his head, he felt like suffocating. He moved back, away from you.

“No, it's none of that, Chris. I promise. I just feel like I don’t know myself, and I need to. In order to know who I am… This journey I have to take alone.”

Tears were staining your shirt, but you didn't care one bit. Seeing him like this hurt more than words could describe.

“Please, don’t let this love —our love— die young.”

“I love you,” you said softly, “I just need to put myself first this time.”

“Y/N,” he whined, your words feeling like a white-hot knife cutting right through him. “I need you to stay.”

You sniffed, caressing his elbow with your thumb. The movement calmed his nerves, if only a little.

“And I need to go.”

Chris’ heart was hammering in his chest.

Tell me it was just a wrong feeling.

“I’m sorry,” you resumed, “I really am. I never meant to hurt you. I’m leaving the day after summer break officially starts. We may never see each other again.” Your voice broke a little.

It was painful— no, crushing the both of you. However, you had to do it. For your own sake.

“I love you,” he whispered, barely seeing you through his tears.

He got closer to you, pressed his forehead against yours.

The goodbye kiss was passionate, teeth crashing and full of love and pain.

“Thank you,” you murmured, out of breath, when you let go of his face, “for everything.”

“Don’t leave me.”

“I have to.”

These were the last words spoken to each other.

You left, heart heavy but determined to find yourself and be able to love yourself like you loved him.

Chris stayed for hours, crying on his couch.

Maybe I should blame myself for never thinking we’d end up this way.

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed, here's the masterlist<3

[skzoologist]

My mooties

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⤐ @dmnksrt - One of my irl best friends, you guys can thank her for so much, because she is my number 1 fan and keeps cheering me on. Without her, I wouldn't have written this much. She's a victim of accidentally being converted into a kpop fan, purely because I was also dragged into the fandom. Even though she stans another group and man (Suga), we still ramble to each other for hours easily. Once she gathers the courage to post her own fanfics, you can be sure I'll be there to support her immediately. Her brain is wonderful, just like her, I wouldn't hesitate to commit arson for her sake. Her tag is 'my Darling', no, we aren't dating, in case any of Nat's anons come here asking that.

⤐ @nerenbe - Well well well, if it isn't my menace herself. This lil gremlin is the sole reason I am in this fandom altogether, since she just kept singing 'Star lost' while we were in the Christmas market in the year 2023. I guess this is what I get for dragging her into so many animes and manhwas, haha. She isn't really active here, but know that she loves to murder me with pics and memes of my bias and wrecker. Truly, she lives up to her nickname.

⤐ @shetherocket - The last of my irl best friends, the poor one who isn't in the kpop fandom and has no idea wtf I am saying to her, ever. It's really funny actually, as she just nods as I speak, no clue about anything. But she likes Felix! Loves his softness and sunshine self, so I sometimes spam her with him lmao. I am never going to be sorry for that :D

⤐ @thightswideforhanin - First ever person to loudly admit Bae wrecked her, and hard. I always enjoy her reblogs, she was one of the first ever active members of my blog.

⤐ @michelle4eve - A shy follower of mine who gathered enough courage to speak to me, and would you look at that, we speak more regularly now :) She's very sweet, which is why I just call her my Sunshine.

⤐ @jinnie-ret - Jinnie-ret, Jinnie-ret, the person who started it all. She was the first skz writer who noticed me and decided to raid my blog, quite literally. She recommended my work on her blog and I got a big influx of people, making me breach the 100 followers threshold. I still can't believe she'd followed me back, when I've been her silent follower for months by that point. While we don't speak a lot, as she is busy, I know she's very welcoming and kind (also my brit mum, because she decided to adopt me lmao).

⤐ @atinyniki - Niki, my precious little pocket pookie who just loves to pester me and absolutely shower me in love, no matter how hard I keep pushing it away (this is the norm for me and my friends). She's absolutely sweet and so strong, I look up to her in that sense to this very day. We easily start gushing about ATEEZ or my husky puppies for a good while, or even start planning some gut-wrenching fics together xD I am so happy she wrote to me, even if she keeps insisting I am cute, falsely.

⤐ @writingforstraykids - Nat, my talented menace! I love her art, oh my god, I cannot wait for her to draw more, even if that is a year later or more. And her soft thoughts? Hell yes! She's the one who usually gets to see my own random thoughts about the boys (hence our collab), because she's my mootie and they get VIP services :) I am forever afraid she's gonna do what my menace does and send me pics of the boys... I would straight up die on the spot.

⤐ @cheesemonky - Leisel! While we don't talk a lot (timezone differences and my depressed, anxious self), she's cute and so supportive. I just know if we would talk more, our chat would be filled with rambles and thoughts about TXT, haha.

⤐ @yangbbokari - Mumu, the chaos child. We didn't get to know each other well yet, but she loves to say random shit and cause mayham xD Very maknae line coded.

⤐ @lilmisssona - Sona, my sweet sonata, who is so sweet and supportive of me despite barely knowing me, it gives me diabetes. I already love her works, her AUs are very interesting. She also loves my two puppies, and I am only glad to provide her with photos and videos of them.

⤐ @minholing - Jenny, my lil biologist sprout. While she left, I will await her return here. Who knows, maybe by then I'll be able to accept her hugs more easily.

⤐ @kimistorm - We don't really talk, but we occasionally tag each other in some games. Her works are really nice and sweet, I wouldn't be surprised if she is like that too.

⤐ @miuracha - Miu, the legend amongst us. I haven't really gathered the courage to talk to her yet, but I do know she is an absolute sweetheart who only deserves the best. I hope life finally gives her a break, and very soon.

⤐ @silverstarburst - Silver, my star and guardian wolf, thanks to her protective nature over her friends. Our friendship started with her tagging me in a Jisung photoset, completely unprompted. That was a sign, so true that we now regularly talk here or on discord. Bless her and her gif/photo sets.

⤐ @galaxycatdrawz - A very active moot of Nat, someone who gave me even more meme ideas when I started memeing Nat, being the menace he is. Thus, he shall be named my official meme partner. While we don't talk regularly, that doesn't mean he isn't fun to be around.

⤐ @thatonedemigodfromseoul We haven't really talked a lot so far, but that is how it is when you just meet someone.

⤐ @dean-a-mean-tae Ah, yes, sweet Ronnie, who likes to sing my praises, even though I am average at best. No, please, don't look at me like that guys, I'm sorry- We have this mouse and cat game where we compliment the other in an endless cycle. Also let me tell you, when I first saw that they mentioned me, saying how good my silly fics are, I just sat in front of my screen like a confused and emotional dumbass. Definitely will remember that day for a good while, haha. I look forward to getting to know them better, if life allows it.

If I didn't tag you here, that either means I am way too nervous to do so (you're probably a big writer blog), or I just straight up forgot with my smooth, pea-sized brain. Please do reach out to me, I assure you I didn't mean to somehow offend you.

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[yinyuedijun]

mao i'm tryign to be very Normal about how much joy talking about your youkai AU brings me but for accessibility's sake i'm not going to write this all in caps lock LOOL (thank you for your essay of tags!!! i'm sending an essay back!!!)

I didn't really have a backstory for Sakura's clothes beyond him getting them after being brought back into human society by Nirei because they saved an old lady and she lovingly made it for him as thanks

i like to think that sakura pulls an inuyasha and only refers to her as 'old hag' ASDFLKJG but he visits her as often as he can, and always with an armful of vegetables because he knows meat is too tough for her teeth :sob: <- this came to me as i was writing this ask alsdkfjg

BUT HIM CHOOSING TO WEAR STUFF LIKE WHAT HIS MOM DRESSED HIM IN? mao i choked back a SOB when i read that holy moly ravioli i love that..... :sob:

i didn't know that nirei has kitsune blood.... this is VERY interesting and i am turning that fact around in my mind òwó

LOVE the idea of suo playing a trick on him to turn it blond, maybe that's the first time it turns blond and the next time it happens bc of all the jujutsu training? nirei's all "alright suo can you turn it back now?" before he realizes that it wasn't suo's trickery this time!!!

anyway...... this is so much fun mao........ i'm looking forward to that knotting fic......... see you around space cowboy (ᕑᗢᓫ∗)

about this

WAHHHH thank you for this essay bitti <333 it was such a delight to read and I've been looking forward to replying to it all day!!! hehe

I LOVE THE OUTFIT BACKSTORY ???? HELP it's so fitting for sakura, esp when I think about how he's so prickly (yet helpful) toward all the elderly residents in canon 😭😭😭 like it's so in character of him, of course he'd pull an Inuyasha. and WAAAAGHHLDDJKD THE VEGGIES FOR HER ....please he's such a Good Boy I will cry. wanting my own reader character to give him a chance now because you just made me love him so much LOLLLL

and yes!!!! this was a "plot twist" in the fic I was never gonna write LMFAO but in real life, legend has it that abe no seimei had a kitsune mother. in the fic, abe no seimei is nirei's matrilineal ancestor. everyone in the current clan thinks the whole kitsune mother thing was just a myth because they feel and appear completely human - but this is only because they never had anyone training them to use their demonic abilities. however, suo trains nirei in such a way without even telling him about his ancestry 💀

SCREAMM I love that setup with nirei going blond 😭 he'd probably be so genuinely distressed at the weird hair colour too AGLDHSKS my man can never return to the imperial court now 😔

thank you for sharing all your ideas (they are SOOOOO good) and ESPECIALLY your art <333 I've started working on the knotting fic, hopefully it won't disappoint! 🫡

[stolitzsings]

💖, 🖋 and 👨‍👩‍👧 for the ask game! (I probably got at least one of the emojis wrong but hopefully they still make sense 😂) - @blitzwhore

💖 What do you like most about your own writing?

Can't believe you're gonna make me think of something nice to say about myself 🤣 I've been told I have a very "lyrical" style of writing, and sometimes I'll write a sentence or paragraph that flows really well and just Hits. I love those moments when I feel like I've really nailed it at a word-for-word level.

👨‍👩‍👦 Do you tell people in real life that you write fic?

Most people in my life know I do writing of some sort, but I'm pretty vague with the details lol. I only talk about writing fic with irl friends who also write/read fic (and I don't tell most of them that I write smut, just bc I know it isn't their jam). I told my therapist I write "character studies," because what is smut if not horny character analysis? 🤣

🖋 Post a snippet from a current WIP

Putting this one under the cut!

Ok I was a little nervous about sharing this because it's from a longer AU I've been toying around with, and historically I'm very bad at sticking to longer projects. But regardless of what I do with it I had a lot of fun writing this scene of M&M tormenting Blitz lmao

Blitz could feel his face heating up. “He isn’t— It’s not like—” Fuck, he was losing this one fast. “Okay, so maybe we’re boning or whatever, but it’s just a casual thing, you know? It’s not like we’re dating or anything.” Moxxie raised an eyebrow. It was almost impressive how smug he looked. “Who said anything about dating?” “I think he just did, babe.” Okay, now they were getting on his nerves. He could feel his spines starting to bristle.  “Look. It’s just a convenience thing, ‘kay? He gets to have his bad boy fantasy, and I get a reliable fuck who I know won’t steal my kidneys while I’m asleep.” It wasn’t like Stolas would ever really consider a relationship with someone like him. Disowned or not, he was still a royal. And that was fine! Blitz didn’t want anything complicated, anyway. Fucking was easy. It was comfortable. It was all either of them was looking for.  “If you say so, sir.” Moxxie had somehow dialed the smugness up to eleven.  Blitz rolled his eyes and walked towards the door. “I’m firing both of you. And I’m keeping your shares for today.” He was pretty sure Moxxie started to say something in response, but he was out the door before he heard it.  He let himself stew as he made his way down to the parking lot. “Looking for excuses,” for fuck's sake. They were hired killers! What did they expect? He was going to get injured sometimes. And it only made sense to go see Stolas, who knew more about this shit than any of them did. Besides, a quick fuck sesh was good for you, or something. Boosted your sero-whatever levels. Got your blood pumping. It was basically healthcare, anyway. Talk about a bedside manner, he thought to himself, grinning. He made a mental note to use that one with Stolas later. He'd think it was funny.

“C’mere, B, let me take a look at that scratch for you.” Millie had opened up their first-aid kit and had just finished bandaging a shallow cut on her thigh. Blitz looked down at the wounded arm that she’d gestured to. It wasn’t serious— an annoyance, more than anything. He shrugged. “Eh, that’s okay. I’ll just have my guy take a look at it.” Millie eyed him skeptically, like she was trying to catch him in a lie. “You know, you’ve been spending an awful lot of time with this mysterious “guy” of yours lately.” Moxxie looked up from his paperwork with a conspiratorial smile. “You’ve been seeing him for everything, even minor injuries. Almost like you’re looking for excuses to pay him a visit.” Oh great, the famous M&M tag team. “What? No, I haven’t.” Even he knew he sounded defensive. “Sure looks that way to me.” Millie crossed her arms and perched on the edge of the desk so that she and Moxxie could give him the double stare-down. Cute. “Are you sure that medical attention’s all he’s been giving you?”

Thank you for the ask @blitzwhore! I'm still answering these prompts if y'all are curious 😊

[piastrinorris]

busy streets and busy lives • ralph penbury x reader

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

masterlist | prev. | next

Tags: Timewasters (series), modern!au, slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love™, fluff, some angst, swearing and mentions of adult themes throughout, eventual adult content, alcohol content, drug content, penbury is a fanon surname

Word count: 8.9k

A/N: Holy shit, look at this! One month to finish one chapter, and then I churn out another in 5 days. Who am I?!

Seriously, your response to last chapter blew me away. That's what got me writing so quick. That, and I can't bear our Ralphie being sad, lol. This is a very Ralph-centric chapter, so I hope you enjoy! <3

Also, this chapter introduces what may be my most favourite character yet. I can't wait to write more of her.

Set your alarm to a sound you like, they said. You’ll wake up in a better mood, they said. Guaranteed good start to the day, they said. You don’t even remember putting your phone on charge last night. You remember getting out of the taxi. You remember opening the door. You remember going up the stairs. You remember face-planting into the bed. But you don’t even remember getting your phone back out from where you’d put it.

Something doesn’t feel right about the bed, though. You roll over and notice there’s no other weight pressing down on the mattress. Turning yourself fully, you see that Ralph’s not in the bed with you. Neither are his pillows. His phone is charging on his nightstand, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

Until you see some movement out of the corner of your eye, and look down to see him asleep on the floor. He’s brought his pillows down with him, but he’s only got his coat to cover him. Leaning across the mattress, you reach down over the side of it to prod him. “Hey. Ralph. C’mon, get into bed.” He grunts, shaking his head around until his face is buried into the pillow. You tut and groan, “Fuck’s sake, I’m taking a shower and then going downstairs, so just… Stop being so bloody awkward and get some decent sleep, at least.”

Holding your head as you shake it, you clamber out of the bed and trundle your way into the bathroom. Poking at the remnants of last night’s face, you try and save as much of your skin’s condition as you can by taking a wipe to it before you get into the shower.

The shower takes far longer than usual, as if you’re not already running behind on your own schedule. As you watch the water run down your limbs, words echo in your head. Having you at my ankles 24/7 is fucking exhausting. Tell me the truth already, it’ll hurt less. For fuck’s sake, Ralph, I don’t want you gone! I’m just a -thing now. Tipping your head up, you let every stream of water punch you in the face, cleansing you of all the negativity that last night had left on you. 

Once you’re finally washed, dried and dressed, you don’t even bother checking if Ralph got into the bed before you go back downstairs. The friends that are awake so far greet you gingerly, and you groan, your face wincing. “Do you guys -”

“We’ve already agreed that we’re Switzerland here,” Connor interjects. “We don’t know your side. We barely know Ralph’s, he was a wreck.” You let out another small groan. “And it’s obviously very fresh so we won’t pry,” he holds his hands up.

“But, we are still here for the both of you, however you need us,” Scott nods.

You nod back, “’Preciate it, thanks. I was actually gonna ask if - I’ll happily take back anyone’s bags, to make room, but I was wondering if… Any of you had space, if you could… Take him home for me, I’d be super grateful.”

“He can come back with us,” Anna looks over at Scott and his partner, who both nod back.

“We’ll take care of him. Take the time you need,” Scott comforts you with a warm hug across the shoulders.

Once you hear one more person coming down the stairs, you feel your insides turn to lead in seconds. Grabbing some toast, you sneak your way through the ground floor rooms so that you can get back to the stairs without having to face him again.

Quickly filtering through the clothes in Ralph’s - your suitcase that he’s using, you can tell he’s gotten dressed for the day, so collecting his remainders and packing them, as well as your own, you get to loading up your car. Anna and the boys helpfully take their bags out, too, offering hugs and words of sympathy and gratitude.

“Ralph mentioned something about wanting to go somewhere before we leave, so we’ll probably be a bit late back, okay?” Anna tells you. “You gonna be alright?”

You nod, “I think it’ll do me good to have some me time.”

“I do, too. Just don’t get too angry and do something stupid, ’kay?” Anna makes you promise and gives you one final hug before you head out onto the road.

As you set your phone up to start playing music for the drive home, you notice the notifications on your lock screen:

Missed call (12)

Voicemail (9)

With a heavy sigh, you leave them on the screen, at least until you get to a service station. After filling the car up, getting some snacks and a drink for the journey, and getting back on the road, you finally bite the bullet and start playing the voicemails through your car’s speaker:

“How dare you run out on me?! You didn’t even give me a fighting chance to truly say my piece, I thought that very unfair of you. Need I remind you that all of this is extremely new to me, not to mention completely terrifying?! Life as I know it is gone, and I don’t know when I can go back. How can you not see that from my point of view?!”

“I was only looking out for you, you know. It wasn’t proper, the way he was around you. You didn’t see the way he was looking at you, like you were a piece of meat, it was vulgar. And especially while you were under the influence of alcohol, how advantageous for him! What with you being so far from home, I was simply intervening to make sure you were safe!”

“And what on earth made you think that I see you as a replacement for my own mother?! For one thing, Mother never even did any of her own cooking or cleaning. I thought you were a friend. Friends don’t leave their friends stranded in loud places that they don’t know, half a hundred miles away from another place they don’t even know anymore!”

“Don’t you even worry yourself any further. As soon as we get back to London, I’m making it priority number one to go and find that old man and demanding he take me back to my own time again. I don’t care that he told you that it was random, I’ll sleep under the bridge with him for however long is needed if that’s what it takes to get me back to my home. That’s what you want, and so that’s what I’ll do. If I’m going to be an unwanted presence, I may as well do it in a time and a place that I know, where I have enough money to my name that people will at least pretend to like me without ever telling me they don’t!”

“I’ve made a terrible mistake here. I was getting upset and so I went outside for some fresh air, and then I wanted to go home too, but I can’t do that without money and so I started walking in the direction that I thought was the sea, but now I fear I’ve gone too far. I’m going to turn back. I hope I haven’t accidentally made any turns that I’ve forgotten about. Oh, what a fool I am. Stupid, stupid, stupid Ralph. Why am I even on the phone, it’s not like you can help me now. Or that you’d want to.”

“I’ve given up on walking now, I’m just sitting on the edge of the path. People keep dropping coins next to me. Perhaps those can be a consolation fee to you. Or perhaps this is how I earn my keep after all. Everybody pity poor, pathetic Ralph. Not enough to stop his father going through his staff as if our home doubled as a brothel, not enough to save his mother from the heartbreak of Father’s death. Not enough for Victoria to ever even consider me more than the social title we both held together being who we are. Not even enough to keep the only person who ever cared about me to stay.”

“Oh blast, what have I done? I don’t want to lose you. I - Just because I had promised myself that I wouldn’t repea- Gah, don’t do it, Ralph, this isn’t the proper way, stupid -”

“I realise that last message left quite abruptly. Connor found me and took me back to the bar and now we’re waiting for a taxi but I went to the toilet first. And I felt that feeling again when you look at yourself in the mirror and suddenly everything feels all wobbly. And I think I’ve said some very bad things that I can’t remember. But I do know I’m still mad at you, as well. I didn’t want to say any of those things, but you can’t deny you’re not responsible for this fight, too. I hope you’re sleeping well.”

“We are home now. Well, not home home but we are back at the house. I went up to the bedroom but you were already in the middle of the bed, fast asleep. I shan’t wake you, and I suppose I should learn my place at some point. I took the liberty of taking your phone out and putting the charger into it. I couldn’t tell you why I’m still leaving you these messages, I suppose I just… I’m upset with you, but also I want to talk to you, because you know better than anyone how to make me happier again. And I want to talk about all of this, but also I don’t know if that is such a good idea or it’ll just keep dragging this out. But won’t it be worse if we never do? Mother and Father never talked their problems out - not that we’re - oh, I give up.”

You’re not sure how you feel. You want to cry. You want to scream. You want to shake Ralph by his shoulders, but you also want to hug him tightly and let that citrusy scent of his envelop you.

He’s right, though. You want to talk to him, but you also don’t. Because you know that the things you want to say, the things you could say to the Ralph you envision in your head, the real Ralph wouldn’t reply in the same way. He’d probably get defensive and you wouldn’t actually get anywhere because he’d get stubborn and you’d get upset. Or maybe he would hear you out. Maybe you’re just villainising him at the moment because of how fresh the wounds of last night are.

Even so, even if you do start to address every elephant in the room, how far do you allow that to unravel? Do you tell him the truth, that if you don’t spite him for his actions, you’ll only keep forgiving them if only because you can’t bear to think of life without him? Do you stand there and beg for him to never leave the 21st century, consequences be damned? Do you honestly believe your life is some kind of late-2000s rom-com movie?

The closer you get back to London, the more you dwell on certain parts of certain messages. Especially the part about Ralph deciding he’ll live the rest of his days in this era with Homeless Pete. Was he serious about that? You have most of his possessions either with you or back at the flat, but would he come back for them? Would there even be a point? No, you can’t imagine Ralph would last more than twenty minutes out there roughing it. 

But what if he doesn’t come back to you? What if one of your friends agrees to take him in, instead? You’re sure that your relationship with them wouldn’t change in the slightest, but you’re not certain that he would remain neutral. Would he feel too uncomfortable around you? Would there be a home amongst your friends’ that you would no longer be welcome in?

Maybe he is out of your life for good after this. Maybe he is just going to find somewhere else to live until the time machine lift fixes. Maybe going cold turkey is what you need. You were getting too ahead of yourself. And besides, even in a scenario where he really does have no choice but to return, it’s only a matter of time before all of this piles up again, and then you’re right back here. Is it worth putting yourself through this much turmoil time and again for something so fruitless?

But that insinuates that you’ve only ever been helping Ralph for your own ulterior motives. Ralph didn’t come to you seeking anything other than - well, he wasn’t seeking anything out, the poor guy just ended up here. But you happened to find him. And you took him in and gave him the roof over his head that he needed. You kept him fed and comfortable, is that not just something you’d do out of the kindness of your own heart? Is it really fair to turf him out because you can’t keep your feelings in check? Or is it fairer to cut him loose, and let him forge his own path with whomever he wants to, not just the first person he meets?

As you pull into the familiar busy streets of Croydon, you wonder just how far back Anna and the others are. Her last update, and Connor’s, all came at similar times, but where Connor was informing you all that he, Grace and her boyfriend were halfway there, Anna was texting to say they were just leaving Brighton.

Parking your car in its spot, you look up through your windscreen at the towering block of flats, resting your chin against your steering wheel. You know that everything’s just going to remind you of him in there, too. But where else could you go?

~~~

After one final trip to the beachfront, Ralph knew it was time to face the music. No hiding behind false smiles and fake words. Although, maybe he had ruined the chance at fixing things with words, even if they were true. Perhaps you’ll be truly sick of him. The way everyone always is.

Of course, nobody likes a self-pitiful fool. You’d made that abundantly clear last night. But what else is Ralph to do? It’s not wrong. He’s always been second fiddle. Never picked in classes, never favoured by his peers, never favoured by his parents, even the help were always far more charmed by Victoria than they were by him. And Ralph never understood why, he always tried to emulate his sister in every way, but that just wasn’t right, for some reason.

In the car, Anna suggests playing some songs that’ll make Ralph feel better. He agrees, and it does lift his spirits as he hears the familiar voice of his now-favourite singer, but the lyrics bring his mood straight back down again. He frowns, “I thought you said these songs would cheer me up.”

“I said they’d make you feel better,” Anna corrects. “Sometimes when you’re feeling sad, it’s better to just… I dunno, let someone else talk about how you’re feeling. Makes you feel less alone in it all. It’s cathartic.”

And so Ralph spends most of the car journey back in relative silence, forehead pressed against the cool glass of the car window as he argues with himself. What the devil is he supposed to do now?

Yes, he may have told you in the heat of the moment that he'd rather live with that awful man, and yes, in theory that does sound like the perfect solution - it gives you the closure from Ralph that you apparently want, as well as giving him direct access to the only person who can help… put him back. Those words pierce him, etching deeper into his brain every time he thinks them.

But, in reality? Ralph tries to remember the area that you’d taken him to when you’d first talked to that homeless man about how he’d ended up here. He remembers dirty people, dirty mattresses with little to no springs. No place for a Penbury, that’s for sure. Though is Ralph even one at this point?

What does he expect to happen when he goes back in time, back to Penbury House? You’d always encouraged him to tell Victoria to “shove it”, but how well would that be taken? Surely she’d just tell him the same thing and turf him out? She’d have more reason to, it’s been her place of residence and she’d surely have the other four on her side.

And did he want to win Lauren back? DId he want to come back with a bravado that she’d find attractive? Did he really want her to find him attractive anymore? Yes, he’d been drawn to her from the moment he’d laid eyes on her, but she certainly made her intentions with him - or lack thereof - very well-known. Ralph looks in the mirror at Scott and his partner in the back seat, both chatting away as they hold hands. Lauren would never love Ralph like that. 

Scott’s reflection catches Ralph’s eye and raises his eyebrows in slight concern. Ralph simply nods with a small smile. He looks over at Anna, who’s singing along with the song that’s currently playing. She notices his gaze and briefly meets it, gesturing encouragingly as her singing becomes more deliberate. Though Ralph has yet to master lyrics to the songs he now likes, his smile does grow a little bigger as he moves his head from side to side in rhythm with the song. Anna, in turn, beams back at him before focusing on the road once again.

This is the sort of love Ralph always dreamt of having someday. Of course, there’s still more that he’d love to have. He’d love someone to wake up to every morning, to embrace and to kiss and to devote every waking moment to. Oh blast, this is his internal monologue, he can say it; he’d love to wake up to you every morning, to embrace you and to kiss you and to devote every waking moment to you. 

But this sort of love is just as important. Friends who check up on him, and who cheer him up. He’ll miss that once he’s back in his own era. Not that he’d be able to keep it up for much longer if he were to stick around. Your friends are loyal creatures, and you’ve known them for far longer. It would only hurt anyway if he were to stay and they were to pick you.

Though, who’s to say that they would? The words you’d told him days ago echo in his mind. If Ralph wants to be their friend, he has to believe that they want to be his friend, too. And they’ve only ever made him feel like he was part of the group, from the day they met him. Perhaps they’d be willing to remain in contact with Ralph even if you didn’t want to. But wouldn’t that split the group up? Or has Ralph been underestimating you, as a part of the friend group as well, and perhaps you would still remain friends with him after all of this. But could he face you after the things that were said?

And how would he explain himself? You’ve obviously got it in your head that Ralph only intervenes because he wants attention. Does he explain that he wants so much more than that? That he wants a whole life with you? What would be the point in disclosing that now, when obviously Ralph’s destiny would doom any sort of relationship between you. If he knew how long he had, perhaps he could simply keep those thoughts where they already remain, in his imagination. For the sake of the group, and for the sake of just getting to spend as much time around you as possible.

Is that self-destructive of Ralph? Maybe. But if he’s on borrowed time, what’s the use in wasting it? Doesn’t he deserve these fleeting moments of happiness, too? Even if he knows they’ll only end in disaster for him, it’s not as though he’s got a lot going for him, anyway

Before Ralph knows it, he’s starting to recognise certain streets. And then Anna’s stopping outside your block of flats. Ralph gets out, with gracious nods of thanks and grateful smiles to everyone in the car, and waves them off as they drive away. He looks up to the ninth floor windows, eyes squinting with the brightly lit clouds that overcast the late November sky.

Ralph takes a deep breath, in through the nose and out through the mouth. He squares his shoulders up. His eyes still trained on the window he knows is yours, he once again inhales deeply, holds it for a second… And promptly turns on his heel and power-walks down the street.

He’s not sure where he’s going, wherever his legs take him, he supposes. He rounds a corner and is suddenly met by a very familiar face. “Ah! Mister… P-Peter, wasn’t it?” The man grunts and waves his hand from side to side. “You’re the one that brought me here, aren’t you?” The man studies Ralph’s face intently for a moment and then realisation dawns. He clicks his fingers as his eyes widen and he nods, and then before he can react, Homeless Pete grabs Ralph by the arm and leads him back to the building Ralph first emerged from almost 3 months ago.

Ralph looks through the open doors, to the carpeted floors that look unchanged from when he last walked them. The lift doors stare back at him ominously. “Are - are you bringing me here because… Is it time?” Despite the inevitability of this moment, a tidal wave of sadness crashes over Ralph. This is it. The man shrugs and nods. 

Ralph looks at him with sorrowful eyes, “Do you think I have time to say my goodbyes, at least?” Another shrug and a wrinkle of the nose bridge. Ralph is perplexed. “Well, how long have I got?” A shrug, a gesture to himself, a gesture to the lift. Until Mr Peter goes in himself, Ralph deduces. 

He ponders for a moment. “Do you - what would happen, would you say, if I were to… To not go back? Would it affect… You know?” Ralph gesticulates wildly around himself. With a fleeting amused smile, Homeless Pete shakes his head. He gestures to himself, then out to the left. Back to himself, and then out to the right. Another shrug. 

As Ralph’s trying to figure it out, Pete then taps his arm, holds up 4 fingers and looks at Ralph expectantly. He then points to the ground, and holds up the four fingers again. “Oh! Do you mean the four that travelled to us? L-Lauren and the rest?” The name still catches in his throat. Pete nods. He looks all around, in all directions. He shrugs at Ralph. “Do you think life is no different with them staying where they are?” Pete shakes his head.

Ralph could practically feel his brain doing somersaults trying to understand it all. So, perhaps there is a chance for him to stay, after all? But how on earth would that be feasible? He can't do anything that requires legal documentation - he could never get a job, or buy a house, or see a doctor, or travel the world, or get married. What if he became horrifically unwell? Which is the worse fate, to die a slow and physically painful death amongst friends, or a slow and emotionally painful death from a broken heart, all alone?

Even that rides upon the illusion that you and your friends would remain with Ralph until the end of his days. What if you never take him back? What if you do, but the cycle repeats itself until you leave him hung out to dry? While his lady friends are all good company, none of those are exactly chomping at the bit to talk to him. He’s usually the one that starts conversations with them. How could he expect any of them to put him up forevermore? He’d have to disclose the true nature of his existence to them eventually, and what if they took it poorly?

“Could I��� Have some time to mull this over, please?” Ralph eventually asks. A grunt. Four fingers up. A point to the ground. “You would like to reconvene at 4pm?” A nod. “Very well, I shall return by 4pm promptly.”

Ralph turns away and starts walking in whatever direction he’s stopped at. He keeps walking, hoping to outrun the swarm of conflicting thoughts trying to consume his head, until he hits the high street. At the end of it, another familiar building. Far older than the rest. With a big black sign hanging off of the side wall that has a big white W on it.

Ralph approaches the bookstore as though his legs are moving him there automatically, completely independently from his own volition. He stops himself as he gets close, though - letting someone pass breaks him out of his trance. Watching so many people going in and out of his front door. He recognises a dark plaque by the side of it - it’s much too far away for Ralph to read it, but he doesn’t need to. He knows what it says by heart. Penbury House, est. 1898. It was a wedding present from Ralph’s maternal grandparents so that his parents may start a family. Oh, how his mother’s family loved that she were married to Lord Penbury. She was no lowly peasant herself, of course, but a Lord, no less!

Ralph always resented inheriting that title. It made him just like his father. And it was his father’s penchant for… Whatever he was doing with that young woman, that led to his untimely demise. A real stain on the Penbury name. If not for the twins turning their reputation around to being total carefree socialites, with free rein of a mansion, complete with the family wealth, and no parental guidance, they surely would have had no leg to stand on.

Taking another deep breath, Ralph marches past the old oak doors and into what was once his hallway. Cash registers adorn the hallway, along with a Customer Service desk right up at the front. Ralph approaches it and asks meekly, “Excuse me, do you know much of the history of this building?”

“Uhh, I know some super rich family owned it until the daughter blew all their money and it was repo’ed. Someone made it into a bookstore and then, big capitalism over here,” they gesture wildly with their arms, “Waterstone’s bought it out. As far as I know, they obviously didn’t keep any of the furniture but all of the walls and floors and that are restored as best they can be.”

Of course Victoria wasted all their family’s fortune away. With the help of those four, no doubt. Ralph wonders whether that means he really is needed back in his own era. To keep her from ruining the Penbury name. With a small nod of thanks to the staff member, he slowly starts to walk around the hallowed halls.

The dining area, filled with aisles of jigsaw puzzles and card games, like the ones he was playing with your friends over the past week. What a strangely apt crossover of Ralph’s two worlds, he thinks to himself. In the next room, there are craft supplies and children’s games all around it. Children run laps around their parents. What a strange sight to behold in a kitchen, though now it looks as though there was never a stove in it. The living area is absolutely chock-full of books. Piles and piles. “Best Selling”. “New In Stock”. “Booktok Finds”, whatever that means. There’s a couple on a book cover in a display titled “Modern Romance” who look a lot like a cartoon version of Scott and his partner. If he could, Ralph would have liked to buy them it.

He thinks back to the ukulele that Connor had bought him. Although he’d had no means of paying him back, Ralph had tried to insist on paying Connor back in some way, but he’d shrugged him off, insisting that it was “fine” and “’s just what mates do, innit?” No matter how much he racks his brain, Ralph can’t remember a time when anyone ever bought him a gift. On his birthday, he’d get presents for little boys, but not necessarily for Ralph. Footballs and train sets and toy soldiers. He had far more fun on Victoria’s rocking horse, or even games as simple as a hoop and stick, though running through the house with them always ended with harsh words and a harsher reception from his father’s cane.

The door leading out to the garage has a sign on it that says [Staff Only]. Clerks would walk in empty-handed and come out again with arms full. He assumes that’s where the inventory is kept.

He notices that there are people running up and down the stairs, and asks the very helpful clerk at the front if it’s okay to go up there. They tell him it is, and explain that there is a cordoned off area for staff only, but that there are plenty more books to be found, as well as some toilets if that’s what he’s looking for. He assures them that it isn’t, but he thanks them again regardless. 

Victoria’s quarters are now the staff quarters. The bathroom… Still serves some of its purposes. The master bedroom and his father’s office are all also filled with bookshelves. It almost feels like an invasion of privacy, seeing all these people walk through rooms that even Ralph and Victoria were forbidden from, back in the day.

Which leaves one more room. Taking a moment to compose himself, he steps into what used to be his bedroom and is met with the most amazing smells. Sounds of china clinking against itself as cups find saucers. The gentle chatter of people sitting in what appears to be a small cafe. So many people in his space. Nothing to suggest it was ever the room he grew up in.

He’s stood by a counter, looking around while lost in thought, when the barista behind the counter gets his attention. “Everything okay, sir? Would you like anything?”

Ralph coughs out, “Oh, please, I’m no sir. Um, it’s fine, I haven’t… Brought any money with me or anything. Just here to look around.”

Nodding slowly while frowning, the barista steps away for a moment before returning and sliding a full cup of saucer his way. “Oh, no!” they say in a very deliberate tone. “I seem to have made this all wrong for one of my customers, and I would hate to waste it! Would you mind taking it off my hands, so my boss doesn’t see?”

Ralph looks perplexed. “But I just saw you - and how could you possibly go wrong with tea, you’ve not put any milk in yet or -”

They wave him off. “You look like you need it. Call it my good deed for the day. What milk should I “accidentally” put in?” They make air quotes with their fingers, which makes Ralph chuckle. 

He tells them which milk he’d prefer and they add it to his liking - “accidentally,” Ralph repeats the motions back to the barista who smiles back. “Should I tell others of your good deed, or do you wish for it to remain unknown?”

They grin widely. “Maybe no photos, but you can subtweet me if you like.”

Ralph frowns. “What’s a sub-tweet?”

“You can tweet about it without mentioning any specifics about me,” they explain. “Big fan, by the way.”

Ralph looks elated, but then his face falls. “Would - Are you going to ask me for a photo?”

“Oh god, no, I don’t think either of us are prepared for that! This chat’s been more than enough for me,” they smile at him once more before serving the next customer.

Ralph takes the cup with a warmth in his heart as he finds a free table that, once he’s sat at, is in the exact same placement as though he were sat at his own bed. He rubs his thumb back and forth across the rim of the cup, replaying that little conversation over and over. Being shown such a genuine act of kindness, with the person getting absolutely no personal gain from it, and within the walls of his own home, as well - sure, the people who wanted photos was flattering enough, but for once, someone just wanted to connect with Ralph. To validate that they didn’t think him an annoyance.

That gets him thinking yet again. About all of the times in this building he’s heard, “Not now, Ralph!” “For crying out loud, boy, will you stop?!” “Ugh, what is it now, hm?!” And about how he hasn’t heard a single utterance of any of those phrases since living with you. 

Maybe it was never Ralph that was annoying - you never made him feel that way, even at the beach when he was trying to help you find your rock. Every time Ralph tried to help, you were never unkind. Even when he would get too excited and hand you one that he’d already done before, you telling him, “You’ve already shown me that one!” was accompanied with laughter. What a sweet sound that was. Ralph misses it so. Even when the day’s excursion was unsuccessful because he got distracted playing with a child, you were completely unperturbed by it.

Maybe Ralph isn’t annoying. Maybe you were just the first selfless person out there who had the patience for him. Maybe…

Ralph shoves his hands into his coat pockets and feels around. He feels something large and leaves it be, and then feels something long and smooth. He takes out the photo reel of the two of you and looks at each photo. He’d have never been allowed to pose for any of the Penbury family portraits like this. Not even the soft smiles in the top one. The smile that looks so good on you. How could Ralph ever want to do anything other than make you feel like that all of the time?

As he sips his tea, his thumb absent-mindedly rubs over the bottom photo. Ralph couldn’t believe his luck, to feel your lips on his face. Of course, he had plenty more from the rest of your friends, but it wasn’t the same. How lucky Ralph was on that day. How happy the two of you were. He’d do anything to make sure you were that happy, again.

Anything.

He pockets the photos carefully, before finishing his tea in one big gulp, thanking the barista silently but profusely, and making his way out of Penbury House once more.

He wasn’t exactly expecting Homeless Pete to be waiting outside of the building the whole time, and so it’s a rather charming surprise to see him there still. Ralph stays back for a few moments, figuring out what his next words will be to Pete, since they’ll likely be the last he addresses them with. Once he’s decided, after several minutes of deliberating, he takes a deep breath and strides up to the other man.

“Mister Peter, after thinking long and hard about this, I have decided I wish to stay. I just feel as though I still have -”

Homeless Pete cuts him off with a grunt before turning around and shuffling into the building. Ralph frowns at the sight of the back of him. He was so looking forward to getting certain things off of his chest, and it was such a big decision to make, now it all feels rather anticlimactic. It’s rather underwhelming, if he’s being honest.

Turning back and walking down the high street, he sees what appears to be a costume store of sorts. There’s a suit jacket that Ralph rather likes the look of, but it’s paired with the most hideous colour combination. Looking around at the rest of the window display, he recognises the style of tasselled dress on the second mannequin with great familiarity, though something puzzles him about the display. There’s a board on it that specifically states, “Party like it’s 1922”, but these colours were not in season at all! What an amateur display of affairs. The only thing that remains true to that year are the trousers of the suit, but again, the top half is all wrong.

Ralph does spot something on the rack behind that looks like it would go well, though. And he’s strangely taking this display very personally. Once again working on autopilot, he marches into the store and promptly starts stripping down the suited mannequin. Finding a more appropriate shirt and tie to go along with the outfit he’s designing in his head, he starts muttering nonsensically to himself under his breath. 

He doesn’t notice the store clerk, who’s been watching him with amazed confusion at the sheer audacity of his actions, creeping up to him until they ask, “Sir? Can I help you?”

“Oh, heavens!” Ralph yelps before letting a laugh bubble out from his lips. “Made me jump. No, thank you, I’m perfectly fine as I am!”

“…Right.” They slowly back away into a back room, out of Ralph’s perception. Not that he was watching, anyway, he’s on the lookout for a dress that complements his new suit layout far better.

Just as he’s pulling the dress over the mannequin’s head - blindly, as he has his head turned away from it and his eyes squeezed shut, for good measure - an older woman with a kindly face approaches him. “Hello there, love. Did my employee’s window display offend you, by any chance?” she asks in a Cockney accent.

“Oh!” Another yelp causes him to jump up on the spot. “You’re a sneaky pair, aren’t you! Yes, I’m terribly sorry, it’s awfully rude of me, but you see… The colour palette was all too wrong for the year 1922 anyway, and even then, nothing really complemented each other. I just thought this looked more cohesive, and… Honestly, I’ve no idea what came over me, the more I stand here the more of an utter fool I feel for being so inappropriate, I truly hope you can forgive me but I understand if you can’t, I shall leave immediately,” he hangs his head as he rambles, but the woman pats his arm.

“Chatty li’ul thing, int’cha?” She grins. “Name’s Florence, but don’t call me that, everyone calls me Babs. Always have since I were a kid.” She provides no further context, which Ralph tries not to dwell on as she continues, “Look, ’ere’s the fing, I ain’t the spring chicken I used to be, and I’ve been lookin’ for a fresh pair o’ hands. You seem to have an eye for this sorta fing. Fancy a job ’ere?”

Ralph’s eyes widen. “Oh, I, um, I can’t - I’m not… resgistered with any… Banks, you see,” he scrambles to think of a decent excuse, his eyes squeezing shut and his fingers curling in and stretching out.

Babs, however, screeches out a cackle. “Oh, ain’t you a - ’ere, in’t he a crack-up?” She asks the person behind the counter, who nods without looking up, with the air of someone very used to Babs’ personality. “You and me, darlin’, we’re one and the same. I don’t trust them toffs at the bank, neither! They want my money, they can prise it out me cold, dead hands! That’s why I pay cash in hand, sweed’art, all I ask is you show up a few days a week and I’ll pay ya for ’em. How’s that sound?”

A job with no ties to needing any sort of administration? Sounds too good to be true. But Ralph doesn’t care in this moment. “Oh, Ms. Babs, this really does solve such a gaping issue for me, you have no idea how indebted I am, thank you so very much,” he gushes as he shakes her hand enthusiastically.

She laughs, “Calm it, Kermit, I’ve already ’ad an ’ip replaced, I’d like to keep both me ’ands if I can ’elp it!” Ralph lets go as though she’s electrocuted him, which only makes her laugh more. “Go on, away wiv ya. See ya Monday, 9 sharp! We’ll talk shop more then. And you can drop that Ms malarkey, an’ all!”

Ralph smiles and bows at her, then at the other clerk, then at Babs again, who waves him away with a warm smile. Turning on his heel, Ralph’s filled with a confidence he’s never felt before as he strides back down the high street. Perhaps he could do it all. Perhaps he could even tell you how he truly feels about you.

Or, once the tower block comes into view, he could freeze up entirely at the thought. How presumptuous of him, to assume you’d reciprocate. Ralph would be lucky if you were to talk to him again after last night’s display. And what would he even say to you? Is it worth all of the mental energy to plan a whole monologue in advance, or would you simply repeat the other man’s actions, and slam the door in his face before he got the chance to say his piece?

Taking a deep breath in, squaring his shoulders and balling his fists up, he finally marches his way into the building, pressing the call button for the lift with such force that the arrow imprints in the pad of his thumb. As he’s waiting for it to come down, a familiar sound from behind him surprises him, as he turns to face whoever caused it.

~~~

Once you’re in your flat, wrestling both your bag and the suitcase into the lift with you and practically juggling them as you try to unlock your door, you take Ralph’s stuff and quickly throw it all into the bedroom, shutting the door and metaphorically shutting everything to do with Ralph in there. Except this had been his home for the last 3 months, so everything everywhere reminds you of him. Shaking your head, you go to your bag, throw everything that isn’t clothing out of it and take it out to the launderette with you. Keep out of the house, keep busy. Just until your mind stops swimming.

You watch your clothes spin around in the soapy water and wish you could do the same to your brain. What do you do with Ralph? Do you forgive him? Do you not? Do you seek his forgiveness? What if he doesn’t forgive you? 

You’re still very sure that your anger was valid. But perhaps not all of it was justified. You’ve been putting an awful lot of emotional weight on the idea of Ralph. Imagining him as the perfect boyfriend, and then trying to see the worst in him to combat those feelings. That doesn’t sound like someone with a winning argument in the real world.

Something about not having the security of having Ralph safe at home has you feeling a sense of numbness. Time passes without you even noticing. You’re not doing anything to help it along. Just sitting, staring, pondering.

Once you’re back home, you check the time and frown. Based on the time Anna said she was leaving, she should have been back well before now. You text:

Panicking, you then text the group:

Pacing the flat, your mind races more than ever. What if he’s hurt? Or worse? Or what if H.P’s found him because the time machine’s finally working now? What if he’s just walking the streets because he doesn’t want to return home? What if he really is living with the vagrants? What if he’s just doing all of this to make you panic over him? Truly, anything’s possible. Truly. He’s even in your head, now.

You look out through your window, uselessly from this high up. You know your friends said that you should stay at the flat, and it makes sense, in case he does come back. But what if he doesn’t? What if he’s lost? What if you need to be out there?

No. You’re useless to him and to your friends if your mind’s frazzled. You try asking your Echo if it can play you some music before remembering that a certain someone rendered it useless to you. You try and flick through your TV options but none of them are a worthy distraction.

After some frantic cleaning, you swear you’re starting to hear voices. Who else would be talking out in the hallway? Could it be? But who would he be talking to?

You press your ear to the door and pure relief washes over you as you hear the sweet, familiar tone of a man born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Running to grab your phone, you hurriedly text them to call off the search before swinging the door open.

“- dunno how the fuck she even got out, let alone all the way down there."

"Must have been the stairs, though it would be rather humorous if she learned how to operate the lift all by herself, wouldn't it?" Ralph chortles. Fuck, you've missed the sound of his laugh, and it's only been a day.

"Alright, look who's here!" Your neighbour cheers as they see you. They're standing in their open doorway, while Ralph is in the hall cradling Cheese the cat. Quickly, while his eyes haven't met yours yet, you snap a picture of Ralph holding his feline friend to send as a quick update to the group.

When Ralph looks around to see you, his eyes immediately fill with delight, then remorse, then excitement, then dejection, finally settling on looking at you with intent to gauge your reaction. Your neighbour, oblivious, continues, "Literally, mate, I owe you so much for finding her. Name your price."

"Oh, nonsense, just knowing she's safe and home is reward enough for me," Ralph scratches her just beneath her jaw as he rocks her like a baby, to which she purrs loud enough for even you to hear. The same cat who you'd had to being out of hiding before by standing in the doorway and throwing ham into your neighbour's flat until she came out to eat it.

"Well, if you think of anything, you let me know. I just hope nobody told the big man that they saw a cat walking around when we're not meant to have them," your neighbour grimaces.

"Ahh, if I catch wind of any grasses, I'll sort them out," you smirk before turning to Ralph again. "Ready to go?"

Ralph's big doe eyes bore into yours as he nods, gently putting the cat down and then quickly making his way back into your flat.

"He's a good'un really, isn't he?" Your neighbour simpers.

Watching him go, your wistful smile remains even as you look back at your neighbour. "Yeah. Remember what I told you when you first met him? Harmless."

"Yeah, yeah. You would think that," they smile knowingly. Narrowing your eyes, confused, you simply wave them off and go back through your door

Ralph seems to have shut himself in your room. You feel as though he's probably got a reason why he wants to avoid you, and there's many a thing you don't want to hear from him, either. But you've felt a fraction of what it would be like to lose him and that alone was torturous. Every time you felt bad all day, you only wanted to talk to Ralph. Now that you finally have the opportunity to, you're not going to waste it. Just remember to rein it in.

You knock on the door. You step back. He opens it. You exchange similar looks of curiosity, but something about him being here and in front of you overpowers you and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in to hug him tightly. His arms snake around your sides, and you feel his hands splay out against your back and press into it. It’s a hug that says it all. It apologises and it forgives, a crossover of exchanges between you. He smells like coffee shops and second-hand smoke, but the familiar scent of Ralph still remains as you bury your face into him.

When he pulls away from you, it’s to hold you at arm’s length with a gleeful glint in his eye. “I’ve got some news for you.”

Your heart sinks. Surely, anything that’s good for him that’s happened over the course of today can’t be good for you. But you wouldn’t be a good friend if you weren’t supportive. So you put on a smile and ask, “Oh, yeah?”

“I’ve got a job!” he singsongs, skipping on the spot. You look at him incredulously, and he explains. “It’s a bespoke costume store, run by this… Rather eccentric character, and it pays cash in hand! So I can earn some money and pay you back!”

You rub your face. “Look, Ralph, when I said those things -”

“That was a justified cause for concern, and I wish to rectify it. I, myself, said things that I did mean and things that I didn’t. But I don’t think it’ll do us good to talk about that too much.”

“I don’t either,” you smile back. “I’m glad you’ve found something to keep you occupied. Though, what about when… You know… Lift’s back in service?”

Ralph pauses. Does he tell you that he's willing to take the risk and stay as long as he can? Would you trust Homeless Pete as a reliable source or would you assume Ralph was stupid for doing so? He feels far too fragile to have another argument. And so he simply shrugs, "Then I shall have to do some awful things very quickly to ensure I'd never be welcomed!"

You laugh loudly, "Ralph!" and he grins back at you.

"Oh, and before I take this coat off…" he starts, shoving his fists into his pockets.

"Ah, yeah, we can put that reel on the fridge!” You grin, but Ralph shakes his head.

“Well, yes, but also… Um, well, I had noticed that due to my incessant bothering, you’d, um, forgotten to actually pick out a stone from the beach,” Ralph starts.

You interrupt him with a groan, slapping your forehead with the heel of your hand. “Oh my god, I forgot my cool rock this year!”

“W-well, I went back earlier this morning - goodness, was it only this morning?” Ralph asks under his breath. “Anyway, um, I know this is… Probably… A very easy shape to mistake a rock to be, but I didn’t remember seeing it on the shelf and so…” You look down, and in the palm of Ralph’s hand sits a stone that’s in a near-perfect heart shape.

“Oh, Ralphie,” you gush, pressing your hand to your chest. Even after everything last night, he still went out of his way to find that for you. If he hadn’t clarified that it was merely an easy shape to find, you’d have questioned the nature of it specifically, but he had, so there’s no need to look deeper into it. You have your answer.

“Well, I just thought even though it might not have been worthy enough for you to have picked, you still get to keep your tradition this year,” he explains hurriedly. “I know it’s just a circle with a dent in it, but -”

“But it came from you, and it’s unique to the shelf, so it’s absolutely living there,” you insist, pushing his fingers to curl up around the smooth stone and holding his hand there for a few beats. Not wanting to linger too long, you snap back and clear your throat. “Why not put it on there, I’ll order us a takeaway, and we’ll find something trashy to put on, yeah?” Ralph nods meekly and you practically float over to the sofa, you’re that happy to just have your Ralph back, for however long that may be.

“Oh, hey, good news and bad-ish news on your front,” you shout to him in the other room. “Good news is, everyone seems to be over making their icons the photo of you flapping about microwaving the egg!”

He frowns as he pops back into view. “And the bad?”

You show him the sea of icons, all Ralph, all wearing a polo shirt, all stood behind the painting that hangs on the back wall, all with a rose in his mouth. “I think they’ve found your Tinder.”

Ralph groans as he approaches the sofa to sit down next to you, and you rest your head on his shoulder comfortingly. You don't feel the need to move it as you pick out a movie you think Ralph will like. "Here, this one's good," you point out. "It's another musical, you like those."

"I do!" Ralph lilts excitedly. "What's it all about?"

"Okay, so in the seventies, there was this insanely popular group of singers called ABBA..."

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[carlyraejepsans]

this is just because i need to rant ab this BUT all those edgy sans aus are so hard for me to get into because they completely misinterpreted sans’ character and motivations. like! this man only fights us when he thinks we’re going to not only destroy the world, but annihilate the entire timeline so that there’s literally nothing left. sans doesn’t fight us because we killed his brother, or all those other monsters in genocide (strictly speaking, you could kill the same amount of monsters in a non-genocide way and NOT fight sans). sans kills us because the literal fate of the world is at stake.

i’m not saying that there’s no world where sans would kill us (ik you just made the post ab that and how it’s his promise to toriel, etc etc), but the problem with so many aus is that sans is portrayed as proactive when he’s really not, unless the world is gonna be destroyed. they often completely warp his character for the sake of angst, and ignoring the fact that there’s SO much to work with for angst that’s rooted in canon, it makes the characters feel unrealistic. i can’t get into a story where i’m constantly being like “no, he wouldn’t do that” or “that’s not something he would say.” (this can be applied to other characters as well, but let’s be honest we know sans is at the helm of most of these popular aus).

when i say i mean no disrespect to these aus and the people who enjoy them, though, i mean it. it’s just not my cup of tea. people enjoy different things and that’s awesome! i’m glad so many people have been so involved in the fandom to make their own worlds and stories- it really has helped keep undertale alive! just bc i can’t personally get into it, doesn’t mean it’s bad or unenjoyable (obviously. they’re popular for a reason).

but idk this is just something that always sticks in my mind when people ask what you don’t like about many aus. and like, you don’t need to respond to this or anything but i just needed to rant lmao

nothing more to say pal. i agree with everything you said. my real issue with stuff in the utmv fandom stuff isn't the characterization. sure it annoys me, but at the end of the day i can't control how people engage with the text. or uuhhh don't. you'll just go nuts

the actual problem here is that... they do it in a way that drowns out the majority of the new canon-adjacent content being shared at the same time by using the same tags and fandom spaces. even when (by many au authors' own admissions) they're stories and characters made specifically in the context of the mv and thus have next to nothing to do with canon save for like, the character design. sometimes. THAT'S the real issue here.

[averagepolarexpeditionenjoyer]

Pacific, empty plate and seal for the Terror asks!

🌊 (Pacific) - You are the one and only survivor of the expedition. You’ve been rescued, but everyone else has succumbed to their fates. Would you be able to go back to your normal life at any point? Would you be able to live with yourself? Would you tell your story, or take your and your companions’ sins to the grave?

Oh boy. I would not be able to live with myself, but I would have to wouldn’t I? I don’t think I could go back to a normal life. I think I would probably choose Crozier’s route and fake my death, though I might try to venture somewhere warmer.

I would probably write down everything I could remember, so that the stories of all those lost lives wouldn’t be forgotten— but I don’t think I could bear living to see people read it. Survivors guilt is real

🍽️ (Empty plate) - List some characters you think you’d have an interesting dynamic with, if you were on the expedition with them. They don’t all have to be from the same ship, the relationships do not have to be romantic or sexual (but could be!), and for the sake of clarity we’re going off the interpretation of these characters as they exist in the AMC show. Would you fall for anyone? Would they reciprocate? Would you butt heads with anyone? Why?

Oh I would definitely have a very interesting relationship with Commander Fitzjames. I’m pretty terrible with people who put on a show like that, I’d probably be very antagonistic to him until he broke down or was vulnerable. 😭 then I’d feel bad and overcompensate by being too nice

I would be BFFs with Hodgson. I am also very not-normal about linguistics and have trouble following social cues. I also carry an indescribable guilt within me and am not strong enough to fight it. Lowk we’d be balling

GOODSIR ONE CHANCE I COULD ROCK UOUR WORLD AND TAKE SUCH GOOD CARE OF YOU BABYGIRL <333 PLEAAASE 💕🩷💕💕

If I actually met crozier I think I’d be too flustered and intimidated to talk to him lmao. I’d just hit him with the “captain.” head nod and think about him 24/7

🦭 (Seal) - Blatant promo bait question. If you have an AO3, an art tag, or anywhere else you post art related to the Terror, link them! If you don’t do either of those things, link and/or tag some of your favorite artists in the fandom.

AHHHHGGGH I LOVE MY AO3 WORK!!!!!!!!!

I’m working on the newest chapter of the Zookeeper AU now 🤫🤫 when I’m done with it I’m gonna do the Hanahaki idea (or shorten that idea and use it as a break when I need it)

Please please please everyone keep writing terror fics!!!!!! I love reading everyone’s work and I’m so grateful i can contribute to the fandom let’s keep this baby icebound!!!!!!!! ❄️❄️

Thank you so much for the ask!!!! I love getting to yap about The Terror and I love and appreciate you so much bro!!!!!!!!! 💙🩵🤍🩵💙🩵🤍💙🩵🩵

[myxinidaes]

Trigun Fic Recs!

There are so many amazing fics in this fandom, I thought I would round up a few of my favorite completed fics (mostly for my own sake since I don't bookmark as often as I should, but also I would love to see some of these get more attention) Some Vashwood, some gen. If you check any of these out, please remember to give the authors some love with kudos or comments <3

man's best friend, et cetera by unsungillumination. 3.8k. Long after the events of trimax, Vash finds a dog that reminds him of a dearly missed companion. Offscreen/non-established Vashwood and rated G. I'm so enchanted by this fic and the way that the author portrays grief in the face of the mundane and just. it's such a good fic, yall

YOU ARE HERE; or, How to Get Lost in the Desert Without Really Dying by fathomfive. Wherein Vash and Livio find a de-aged Wolfwood after the events of Volume 10. Gen, rated T, and 15k, this fic absolutely nails the razor-edged absurdity between the edges of seeing the man you killed/buried/have only just begun grieving come back as a child who doesn't know what you did to him and the looming despair of the Ark. And, in the background, Vash is quietly losing his mind the entire time. It is. So well done, yall. So many gut-punches, and every character is perfectly portrayed. (All of fathomfive's trigun fics are top-notch!)

Tomorrows and Thereafter by KingfisherPrince. Vashwood, rated T and 9.3k words long. Vash communicates with his sisters in his dreams, and Wolfwood accidentally intrudes. There's some really fun examination of Plant communication and Vash and Wolfwood's dynamics. Also, a not-so-nebulous future.

still my guitar gently weeps by faugan. Background Vashwood, rated T and 4.6k. A melancholic fic featuring a ghost town and a guitar. It slots in very well with early stampede!!

Neck in a Noose (Kick the Chair, Hang Loose) by neatrogenous. Vashwood, rated E, 3.8k. Despite the title sounding ominous as hell, this fic is mostly just pining while fucking and Vashwood having a great time laughing at each other. It's massively cute. The goofy smutfic the fandom deserves.

Never Understood a Single Word He Said by aboxthecolorofheartache. Gen, rated T, 9.5k. Vash takes Meryl and Wolfwood to a hidden location near and dear to his heart. A oneshot about greenery in the desert, featuring a top-notch Vash characterization that's offbeat and lonely and very, very old.

these hands stained red (a thousand bodies piled up) by littleghost. Rated M, Vashwood, 12k. Mind the tags! An absolutely devastating fic about Wolfwood, a deal, and how far he'll go for Vash. It's so good! I'm scared to reread it!!

something to hold onto by VerboseDescription. Rated T, gen, 40k. In which a post-trimax Livio, Razlo, and Chronica face the future. A little bit about grief, a little bit about mourning, and entirely captivating.

and we're gonna sing it again by procrastinatingbookworm. Rated T, 5k, past vashwood. Based off of shelternmberone's Ghostwood AU. Wolfwood dies on the couch in Trigun Maximum, and finds himself haunting the narrative of Trigun Stampede. About second chances and self loathing and maybe loving yourself a bit despite it all.

as above, so below by chuchisushi. T, 2.4k, Vashwood. In which Vash gets drunk and has A Time. I'm absolutely obsessed with the plant headcanons in here!!! I'll never not be overcome with emotion about Vash and his sisters.