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eywaseclipse · 1 year

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Safe in Your Arms*

Characters: Original character Metkayina Makani, Tonowari

Synopsis: It’s been a year since Tonowari’s mate Ronal died in the battle of the sky people’s return. With life slowly going back to normal he somehow opens up to the idea of finding love again, with you. (Ronal is killed off in this, but she was never pregnant because I’m not a monster!)

Warnings: Smut. Heavy yummy smut. So no minors and 18+ content

Word count: 3k

The days that were once filled with only anguish and darkness, suddenly started to dissipate. The light beyond the horizon now shone bright again, the pain in his heart slowly lifting. Tonowari swore he would never love again, not after what the sky people took from him. His mate Ronal, was murdered in the battle against the Metkayina and RDA. His Tsahìk, his soulmate, gone. A year after this tragedy he knew that in order to properly lead his clan, he must begin searching for his new mate. But why was he filled with such guilt? You saw your leader every day, eyes heavy with sadness, body tense with internal turmoil, but he still carried himself with such grace and poise, a true leader for you and your people. Tonowari and you shared a close kinship due to Ronal’s and yours friendship since childhood. Your respect for him was great, but you couldn’t deny your physical attraction to this strong warrior. He was undeniably gorgeous. Strong thighs for swimming, his core muscular for long breath holds and balance. His eyes glimmering blue like ocean water, hands strong of a true warrior. A part of you prayed he would find love again, for his sake, your people’s sake.

You were close with Ronal during you childhood and adolescence. You trained among your people passing all of your rites of passage making your way into adulthood earning your tattoo markings. But you preferred to be one with nature. She had you apprentice her up until her death, almost like she predicted it, you thought to yourself. To Tonowari’s surprise you never mated with anyone. Much too engulfed in your practice of healing, and being with your spirit sister embracing nature more than being around people. He knew you were just as skilled with a spear as the next hunter, but would never boast out of humble kindness. Part of what he admired most about your gentle nature. Perhaps you were the one who could fix his broken heart.

You were in your marui this morning, gathering all of your collected shells to make your new outfit. Carefully weaving together the beautiful abalone into your green fabric, humming a song your parents would sing to you when you were little. Your loincloth was already finished. Adorned in black and blue seaweed, pearls, sea glass, and beads. You worked hard to match the top and bottom to hopefully seek a mate. Being in your 20th rotation it’s a little odd you’re still unmated, although your people do not question your decision. The docile respectful nature you possess for one another allows the space for all to thrive. As you continue threading the material and humming, your hips begin to sway to the melody. Your body moving on its own accord, fluid like the ocean’s movements. Unbeknownst to you Tonowari came to your hut ask you for a salve he knew you had for Anoung getting lightly injured in a hunt, but he can’t seem to announce his arrival just yet. His eyes are glued to your trim waist and wide hips, your tail flicking with happiness. Your voice smooth as honey to him. His cheeks and ears are hot. His loincloth begins to tighten. He tries to fight the urge to stop himself, but instead lets his eyes trail down to your ass first.

He coughs abruptly, announcing his presence, causing you to yelp in surprise. You whip your head around to see your visitor, blue eyes meeting his. “Oh Tonowari, you spooked me!” You say lightly with a smile bowing your head to your leader. “I apologize Makani, you seemed to be in quite the trance.” He chuckled breathlessly. He hoped you had not noticed his flustered state. “I came to see if you had some of the kelp salve in here, I will find it useful for Aonung and his hunting party wounds.” Your eyes kept contact with his for a second more, then began to scan your medicinal shelf. Your delicate hands find the salve and bring it over to your leader. “I hope he’s not too wounded, I can assist in anyway that I can.” With a soft smile that melts his heart, he feels your hand brush ever so slightly against his much bigger ones. “No, he must learn his lesson to know better than to show off for his friends. He will be fine.” He assures you. You nod in agreement. His eyes making way to your halfway sewn top. “Your shells, they’re beautiful. What lovely fabric” He says blushing. “Thank you, ‘Wari, it’s for the hunting festival tomorrow night, it’s almost finished.” You politely respond, flattered by his compliment. “I’m sure you’ll find that you are the one that’s worth celebrating in attire like that Syulang flower.” You gasp at his daring words. Suddenly feeling your own cheeks heat, and heart pounding you’re left speechless. The air becoming thick with tension. A whole year’s worth of stolen glances, soft touches, yearning, and unspoken feelings finally breaking to the surface. Both of you staring at one another in silence you decide to speak. “I was hoping that adorning such material, I might finally have a chance at finding my mate.” You speak shyly testing the waters. You see him take a deep breath, almost jealousy, “Any man would be a fool not to.” He puffs out his chest. “Maybe I’m just waiting for him to choose me.” Both of you closing the space between each other. Chest to chest, you feel his heart thumping loudly against your chest, breath fanning your face. “He already has Ma’Makani.” You press your foreheads against one another, embracing this moment of revelation and deep intimacy. An unspoken bond between the two of you tracing back years only platonically. Until now. What feels like minutes passing, he slowly lifts his forehead from yours, his tail swings with excitement. Putting the salve down his giant hands find their way to your small face, lightly tracing your skin. The gentle demeanor of this hulking man, is enough for your knees to buckle. Not a single mean bone in his body, despite him being a mighty ferocious warrior. You both slowly close the space between your face, lips ghosting each other letting your bodies talk for you. Your breath in sync with his. His lips so soft against yours, you practically melt into him. He feels you kissing him back, sneaking his tongue into your mouth causing you to moan deliciously. He feels your reaction, sticking his tongue further in your mouth. The undeniable heat growing between your legs becoming too much to ignore. You rut your hips into his seeking relief. He senses your desperation and chuckles. “What is it little one? What do you need?” “You, I need you. All of you. Right now.” Your chest now heaving with tension, your untouched body on fire with just his kiss alone. He smells your arousal, making his loincloth tighten with his own. “Oh, Syulang flower, you’ve had me, this whole time. I’ve been a fool not to see it, but now I know what I must not lose. You are the light I have found my way to after great sorrow. Always there for me when I did not appreciate your presence. You have healed the hole in my heart in ways I cannot explain. If you will have me as well.” Your eyes begin to water with pure love and adoration for the man in front of you. “Oh my love, please do not shed tears.” He says softly wiping the tears streaming down your face. You lightly chuckle, “only happy tears Ma’Tonowari. I feel only happiness.”

He gasps at you returning the intimate gesture. Feeling his arousal and lust for you he cannot wait any longer. He scoops you up, causing you to squeal. He brings you over to your sleeping mat, gently laying you down. Facing each other, he slowly kisses you once again this time filled with desperation. Your teeth clank against each other, tongues battling for dominance you moan into his mouth loudly. This sends his primal urges into overdrive. Now mounting you, a low growl escapes his chest. You gasp at his sheer strength, rubbing your thighs together as wetness between your legs grows. “Princess, can I taste your beautiful nectar? You smell divine.” He practically purrs into your face. “Yes!” You respond with equal desperation. He kisses your mouth one last time, slowly trailing his lips from your neck, collarbone, and stomach leaving wet marks on your blue skin. He gently unties the knots of your loincloth, while you lift up your hips for easy removal your body moving on its own accord. You feel a surge of confidence course through your spine spreading your legs as wide as they can go. His eyes barely blue now, with pupils blown with complete and utter primal desire. “Oh my beautiful princess, I am going to devour you.” He says chest heaving with his own excitement. He bends down eye level to your glistening pussy, he swears it’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. Rubbing his nose against your thigh, taking in your sweet scent, you bring your hands into his hair gripping for support. Sweet soft kisses are placed on your soft skin, the anticipation killing you as your breathing becomes heavier. You feel your pussy throbbing with anticipation. “My love, please, I can’t take it anymore!” You scream desperately. He chuckles darkly at your desperation, finally shoving his hot tongue into your silky walls, sending shocks of pure electricity through your entire body. Immediately bucking into his face, you feel him French kissing your puffy lips, like a man completely starved. Your eyes roll back, moaning loudly into the air. Causing a surge of confidence in him. He pulls your body even closer, pressing his nose into your swollen bud completely engrossed by your delicious nectar. You feel a fire within your belly start to form, a sensation you’ve never experienced before. He sucks hard, gulping you up, slurping on your sweet juices. His tongue fucking your pussy deliciously, as your orgasm approaches quickly. “Tonowari, I think! I-Oh!” You feel your body begin to writhe on its own accord. “Go ahead my love, let go.” He says moaning into your legs. Your body shakes with extreme pleasure as you grip his braids for dear life, screaming with ultimate satisfaction. Your chest heaving, and breaths deeply panting as you come down from your climax. You feel Tonowari sucking all your nectar moaning and sucking his fingers dry.

Instead of allowing yourself a minute from your orgasm, you pounce on your mate. The sight of seeing him enjoying himself giving you pleasure strikes your core with mouth watering primal desire. Your hips find their way to his thighs, finding friction on the thick muscles. Your soaking wet pussy grinding against the warrior’s rip cord strong thigh, his eyes blown with hunger seeing you ride his thighs shamelessly. You bring your hand to the back of his head and slam your lips into his, moaning into him immediately. His loincloth is so tight it begins to feel uncomfortable. You sense his tense stature, and stop grinding. Your eyes find their way down to the huge bulge in his loincloth, a smile forming on your face. “Tonowari, let me please you now my Tìyawn love. I need to make you feel good.” Whispering in his ear. Your eyes hooded with lust, and hands begin to make their way to his loincloth. He sits back watching how desperate you are for him, causing him to sweat with excitement. “As you wish my darling.” He says practically breathless.

Your fingers work hastily, untying his strings, his hips lifting up to help you take the material off. His rock hard cock slaps against his stomach loudly, with a wet mark on his skin from pre cum. The sight of his huge cock, sends your brain into a frenzy, your mouth begins to water. The strong girth of his cock, leading to a swollen big mushroom tip dark blue from arousal. He stands at 16 inches. His cock is practically throbbing from your stare alone. “Let me taste you, love.” You say misty eyed. He leans back on the pile of pillows allowing you easier access. You crawl towards him like a predator stalking its prey, blue eyes barely visible from your lust. His chest is heaving with desire. “Anything for you princess.” He says letting his lust speak for him now. You finally bring your head down to the swollen glistening tip, slowly bringing your mouth around it, trying not to overwhelm him. He immediately lets a groan leave his lips from the contact, his eyes closing from pleasure. You sense it’s okay to keep moving, so you bring your mouth down the rest of his length. His swollen cock now hitting the back of your throat deliciously. Your head begins to bob up and down, finding a good rhythm for your small mouth taking his large length. You feel his big hands lightly grab your hair, holding for support as he’s transcended in utter bliss. You hear his mewls and whimpers allowing the confidence to flow through you, swirling your tongue around his length, then sucking hard. The grip on your head suddenly tightens as he squeals out rutting his hips into your face. “Ah! My petal, I will not last if you keep this up.” His chest heaving, refraining from cumming down your throat right there. “Then I better not keep you from waiting, my king. I am ready.” You take your mouth off his length, seeing him whine at the loss your lips. You bring your body slowly up to his again, with his hands cupping your face bringing you into a passionate wet kiss, tongue making its way in your mouth hot, and sloppy. Your body straddling his, both of you desperate for each other whining into his mouth. You know he will wait as long as you with his gentle nature. You finally bring your hand back to your braided kuru and hold it in front of you. His trance suddenly broken, “My love, if we do this, we will be mated before Eywa. I will not pressure you into anything you feel you’re not ready for.” His big blue eyes bore into your soul. You lightheartedly laugh at his manners. “Oh Ma’Tonowari, I have been ready since that day you came back from the reef with the war party with that bag of shells you gave me so I could weave them into making a new outfit. You always think of others before yourself. I have been madly in love with you for much some time now.” You take his breath away with your confession, a man of tough resolve suddenly weak in his damn knees from the woman in front of him. He never thought his heart would feel whole again, his days spent with longing and sorrow. Until you found your way into his daily routines, softly floating your way into his heart.

Tears now brimming in his eyes, fall down his cheeks slowly trailing his skin. You’re there to wipe them away lovingly. Your tender touch so soft he could collapse with adoration. “Now look who’s crying my darling.” You say in a whisper, now kissing his cheeks where his tears fell. He closes his eyes wondering how he had gotten so lucky to be given another chance at love in this lifetime. You’re so patient with him, allowing him to feel all his emotions breathing into your neck as you caress his braids delicately. “Makani, I have found the missing piece to my broken heart, you’ve mended me when I didn’t have the strength to mend myself. I am yours eternally my love.” He brings his thumb to your lips, lightly tracing them. Bringing your mouths together feeling the fire burn once more, igniting the lust back into the room, you swirl your tongue against his whimpering into him with delight. Your hips begin to move against his again, seeking the friction once again. His length begins to harden again, immediately seeking the sensation of your body. He senses your desperation, and brings his kuru to the front of you, taking yours in your own hand. Slowly bringing the dancing tendrils to each other as they weave their way into unity. You both gasp at the impact, pupils dilated from the bond. Breath in sync with each other, your eyes boring into his soul, feeling the complete love and adoration he truly possesses for you. Your emotions transferred to him, drowning in the devotion you have for him, your warmth, your fondness. You both bring your foreheads to each other, relishing in this feeling. Embracing the intimate bond of Tsaheylu.

He feels your lust building in your chest, barely holding it together, as you feel his arousal seeping into your soul. Your slick now dripping onto his thighs with anticipation as he brings your body over his length, strong hands on your waist. You slowly drop down guided by him, sinking onto his throbbing cock. Breath hitched with the sensation of you and him at once. All air leaves your lungs as you bottom out, with his full length inside of you. You whimper at the feeling of being completely full. “Take your time love.” Your mate coos into your ear. He sends a shiver down your spine igniting a delicious reaction. You roll your hips against his, his pelvis now rubbing against your clit. Your head thrown back with pleasure at such an impact. “Tonowari, please move, you do not need to worry about being gentle with me. I can handle it!” Your words barely making any sense as he bucks his hips into yours. The sound of skin slapping against each other. “As you wish my darling.” He breathlessly shoots out. Feeling the speed of his hips against yours, your belly burns with the fire approaching your second orgasm. You ride him with fluid movements like a crashing wave, him bringing his body to meet yours, sensing he is still holding back so he doesn’t hurt you. “Fuck me hard ‘Wari, I can feel that you want to, just let go!” He growls finally allowing his primal urges to take over his senses. Your body now flipped over onto your back harshly. Landing with a thud your legs are spread open by his strong arms. You moan at his sudden assertive demeanor. You completely submit to him. His mate.

He brings your thighs to wrap onto his hips, leaning over you. Bringing his cock to your entrance, slamming into you. The motion now completely rampant, losing the rhythm. You feel him approaching his climax as well. His pelvis slamming into your swollen bud, the sounds of your soaking wet pussy squelching at his contact. “Ah! Yes baby!” Your head thrown back in compete utter ecstasy. He brings his mouth to yours, tongue assaulting yours. “You’re taking me so well buttercup” He shouts in pleasure. He fucks you like a man starved, allowing all primal instincts to take over his body. Now slamming ferociously into your body, with your back arched at a sensual angle, driving him to suck your nipples harshly. “Ah!” Your scream in pleasure mixed with pain. He tears the material covering your breasts like a mad man, throwing it to the side. Now taking a hand to the other breast squeezing it. Your pussy clenches down on his cock, feeling your orgasm approaching quickly. The overwhelming stimulation clouding your brain with only pleasure. He removes his hand from your nipple, and brings his hand to your clit feeling how close you are. He knows he won’t last any longer with your whimpers escaping into the air. The final motion of flicking to your swollen bud sending you over the edge, the fire in your womb reaching its climax. Your pussy clenching him harshly, screaming with pleasure as your orgasm rips through your entire body. Following suit he moans into the air as his own orgasm crashes down, spilling his warm seed into your womb. The bond creating waves of ecstasy sharing your pleasure with each other, almost overwhelming. “Fuck! Princess!” He screams as his hips rut into yours with the last of his seed being completely milked from your silky walls. He falls onto your chest, careful not to smother you. Breathing heavy, bodies damp with sweat. You bring your hands to caress his back, delicate fingers rubbing his skin adoringly. His heart swells with love and adoration for his mate. The bond sending his love for you, to you. Moments have passed while the two of you embrace each other. “My Muntxate wife, you complete me.” He sighs into your bosom. “Oh my darling, I am yours forever.” You kiss his head, both of you slowly falling into a peaceful slumber as a mated pair. Who would’ve thought a mighty warrior such as him, would be given the chance to find love within this lifetime yet again.

Hope everyone enjoyed! Tonowari just gives me big teddy bear energy he’s so bbygirl.

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abandoned-monarchy · 2 years

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Assuming there is a season 4 of the Umbrella Academy, here is what I think all the main characters’ arcs are going to be about:

- Lila and Diego: I’m assuming there will be a time jump between season 3 and 4, probably a few months. That means Lila will be near the end of her pregnancy or have a newborn baby, and their arc is going to revolve around them panicking over being parents.

- Luther: Searching for Sloane. Assuming she exists in this universe, I predict that he’ll find her but she won’t have any idea of who he is, and Luther will spend the first part of the season trying to rekindle their relationship.

- Allison: I’m assuming she’s trapped in some type of artificially made dimension? Kinda like WandaVision, where she’s living in a false reality to cope with her pain. Over time, I’m assuming Allison will become more and more dissatisfied by this false reality as she notices that Claire and Ray don’t act like real people but rather just do whatever makes Allison happy. I predict the rest of the Umbrella Academy will find a way to help Allison break out of this false world and rejoin them in the real one.

- Klaus: I think Klaus will have a really hard time coping with the fact that he’s no longer immortal. I think the fact that the Void was the only place where he didn’t feel like a freak or an outcast is going to impact him pretty heavily. In season 1, he used drugs in order to drown out the ghosts. In season 4, I think he’s going to be looking for a way to cope with the loneliness now that he can’t see the dead and the world still sees him as a outsider.

- Five: I think he will find that he really does depend on doomsdays and apocalypses to give his life purpose (as multiple people commented on in season 3). He will also find it extremely annoying trying to live his life while everyone perceives him as a teenager, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he ends up staying with another member of the team just because he can’t get an apartment or housing while looking like a teenager (if this happens, I think he’s most likely to stay with Viktor). I think that Five will be the first person to become obsessed with getting their powers back, because Five needs something — ANYTHING — to focus on now that there is no doomsday.

- Ben: I think we will encounter both Sparrow Ben and Umbrella Ben in season 4 (since we saw a second Ben on a Korean train during the credits). I think Sparrow Ben will be focused on finding a new purpose and a new group of people to belong with. I have no idea what Umbrella Ben will be up to, but I imagine that Sparrow Ben will have an identity crisis upon meeting Umbrella Ben because he was compared so much to his counterpart in season 3. I hope Sparrow Ben spends time reflecting on his relationship with the rest of the Sparrows so we get more information on Marcus, Christopher, Fei, etc. Also, tell us what the Jennifer Incident is!!!!!

- Viktor: he will miss Allison the most out of everyone. I think Viktor will play a huge part in saving Allison from her false reality, and hopefully — HOPEFULLY — the two will have a proper conversation where they can sort out their differences. Even if things aren’t the same between them, I hope they can at least understand each other again. I think he will also have a moment where he’s like “man, I spent my whole childhood thinking I didn’t have powers, but then it turns out I did, but now I really don’t have powers!! I’m back to square one!!!”

It seems like the villain of the series is going to be their dad. I think all the main crew will realize that this new reality is very corrupt and strange because Hargreaves owns everything, and the siblings will have to unite once again in order to get their powers back and stop their dictator dad.

#tua spoilers #tua #tua season 3 #tua s3 #tua predictions #the umbrella academy #five Hargreaves #viktor hargreeves #luther hargreeves #allison hargreeves #ben hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #diego hargreeves

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goblintoothfairy · 3 months

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I've just started working with teenagers who come from rough backgrounds, have mental health and behavioural issues, and struggle to stay in school. A couple of the boys can be pretty bigoted - racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic, you name it - but one especially is.

We took a few of them out to do some activities and had a pretty fun day. This kid who didn't know that I'm queer and trans was saying all day about how he liked me. Then he gets back to the centre and out of nowhere starts talking about how he hates gay people, how he beat up his brother for being gay and how it's not natural.

So I sat down with him and we talked about it. I listened to him say a bunch of slurs and spout more homophobic shit before telling him that I'm not straight.

I didn't know how he'd react - a few people thought he might get violent. But he listened, and asked questions. About my identity, about when I 'chose' to be gay, all of that.

We talked for a while, and he concluded that he was OK with lesbians existing but he was still disgusted by gay men. Evidently we've still got some work to do on that. Then he said: "But I hate trannies, though."

I didn't know how to react for a second. I hadn't planned on coming out to him - I didn't think I could do it safely, partly because of his beliefs and partly because of wider attitudes about trans people in the UK at the moment. But I told him: "I'm trans, actually."

He put his head in his hands and seemed embarrassed. Good. His mate looked at him and asked why he decided to say that.

And surprisingly this kid listened to me again, and genuinely seemed to want to have a discussion with me. He told me about his beliefs about trans people and I heard him out, and then challenged them. I talked to him about dysphoria: "how would you feel if you woke up with tits tomorrow?" We discussed my nonbinary identity (predictably, he made an attack helicopter joke). And I told him about how I don't feel safe at night because of being trans - something he could relate to, in a sense, cause these kids deal with a lot of violence.

Sure, he was still saying a bunch of homophobic and transphobic stuff. But he told me that even though he doesn't like queer people, he likes me. And I think that that cognitive dissonance alone could spark a change of attitude in him. It's going to take time, and a lot more conversations. But I have faith in him, I think, and I'm proud of him for sitting down and talking with me.

It's really fucking scary being a trans person in education right now. Hearing about the education guidance targeting trans kids, reading all of the TERF rhetoric in the news and on social media, hearing about all of the shit going on in the US... It's enough to make you want to quit, and I don't blame queer educators for quitting. But even though it can be shit being the unofficial representative of your entire community, I'm honoured that I can be here and hopefully, eventually, change some of these kids' minds.

#trans #transgender #education #queer education #lgbtq #queer #lgbt #tw transphobia #tw transphobes #nonbinary #uk education #schools #teachers #teaching #personal #tw homophobia

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takearisk-x · 10 months

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Day 7: Lover written for #SeveralSunlitDaylights & @corneliaavenue-ao3

a version of this has existed since may of 2020 and it feels so good to finally put it into the universe after sitting on it for three (THREE!) years... i have a feeling i will continue this at some point and hopefully turn it into a full blow fic, but until then, enjoy some non-traditional, pandemic themed, sex pollen, a/b/o dynamics <33

They said it started in China. At the annual festival in Shanghai.

Some experts claimed the mutation originated because of an uncharacteristically dry winter. Some blamed climate change. Others said it was all part of the cyclical nature of the earth. A purification process. Nature taking its course.

The more hysterically minded said it was the end of the fucking world.

Either way, Ginny watched in horror with the rest of Edinburgh as more and more reports flooded the news.

All across the northern hemisphere, the cherry trees were blossoming, and people were going mad.

~~~

The thing about fear was that it spread like wildfire.

Grocery stores emptied of necessities overnight. The Prime Minister issued stay at home orders, some of the more populated areas even attempted a voluntary curfew. Borders were closed, air traffic came to a grinding halt, restaurants were instructed to only offer takeout, and any non-essential businesses were told to close their doors entirely.

For a while, it all felt over-cautious.

At least until the first case hit Cardiff.

They said the little omega lasted three days in a severe heat until the pain and the dehydration finally rendered her unconscious. Her family rushed her to the emergency room and it was another two days before the hospital identified what was happening to her. They said before she was quarantined, she infected almost thirty people, nine of them hospital staff.

It spread from twenty-nine confirmed cases to over three-hundred within a week, three-hundred became eight-thousand within the month.

And that was just Wales.

~~~

Birmingham was the third city to reach critical levels of contamination, after Liverpool and Manchester.

They projected a global spread, the more densely populated areas being hit first. Each day the estimates increased, predicting numbers so catastrophic, there hadn’t been anything like it in over five-hundred years.

The real test, however, was London.

There were reports that all the major cabinet members had been moved to separate and secure locations. That way if any of them contracted the sickness, at the very least, they wouldn’t infect the rest of the country's leaders.

The worst part was nobody seemed to know anything. Records of the last pandemic were inconclusive or didn’t exist. No one knew how long the sickness lasted or how debilitating it really was. Less reliable news sources even reported deaths when the first wave hit eastern China, rumours spreading of alphas ripping each other apart over the chance to mate an omega.

But that’s all they were.

Rumours.

~~~

Designation had never mattered much to Ginny. It was just something stamped on her birth certificate next to seven pounds two ounces, eighteen inches long. Her ruts weren’t dramatic events, they were hardly even a disruption. Four times a year, she’d get the urge, use her fingers on herself three nights in a row and wait out the subsequent five days of bleeding.

Designation also hasn’t mattered to the world in decades. Suppressants went out of fashion after the turn of the century, the human race’s more animalistic instincts fading with each generation until the ruts and heats became nothing more than quarterly nuisances. Only a very small percentage of the population still needed herbs and homoeopathic blockers to get by, the rest went about their lives business as usual.

Humanity had evolved past such trivial things as Alpha, Beta, and Omega.

But now, it was all anyone could talk about.

~~~

Dawdling around the townhouse, Ginny took her frustrations out in the form of kneading a lumpy, soon to be loaf of bread while half listening to the news. Her television emitted a scratchy noise every few seconds, but for a dumpster dive, it worked fine enough. Especially since for the six weeks she’d been stuck at home, she’d hardly turned the damn thing off.

It wasn’t so much that she was dedicated to being informed, she just couldn’t bear the silence.

No honking cars, no nosy tourists, no shouting street vendors.

It was quiet in an uncomfortable way, in an unnatural way. In a way that left Ginny too much alone with her own thoughts.

As she punched the dough down as hard as she could, her telly warbled out an odd static followed by the evening news anchor chatting animatedly with a couple who supposedly recovered from the sickness.

“And you think having each other,” the journalist asked in disbelief, “helped speed up your recovery?”

“We realise it sounds a bit crazy, we aren’t even sure if there is science to support it–” a male voice responded. He sounded rational enough even though what he was saying went against every directive of social distancing. “But I’m an alpha, and my wife is an omega. When we both came down with it, we decided to stay home and wait it out together. Within a week or so we felt completely back to normal...”

Ginny snorted. The hospitals reported the illness lasting between twelve to fifteen days, not seven. And what were their credentials besides claiming to have been infected? The news station could interview anyone off the street. They’d probably interview her if she claimed she danced naked, covered in chicken’s blood beneath the full moon and it spared her. If anything, the segment was irresponsible. Now people were going to go out looking for a sex partner for the week.

Sighing at the downturn in journalistic integrity, she tuned out the rest of the interview, content to bask in the early May breeze wafting through the open windows.

Until she heard the squeak of brakes slow to a stop out front.

And muffled voices.

Followed by a car door slamming shut.

She’d just begun to wonder which bluenose neighbour had arrived to hole up in a holiday house when footsteps scuffed up the stone walk, her stone walk, and a key slid into the lock of her front door.

The knob turned, the door clicked open, and Ginny stood rooted to the spot, covered in flour as her landlord (slash older brother’s best mate) appeared framed on the stoop.

At first, Harry didn’t notice her. He stepped inside, careful to scrub his shoes on the mat before closing the door behind him and dropping his duffle unceremoniously in the foyer. He looked the same as he had nearly a year ago. He scratched a hand through the disaster hair piled atop his head then patted it all down again. His glasses were the same, and he still had the same little divot permanently etching his brow into a scowl. Beneath his anorak she could tell his lean frame still gave way to lanky limbs that shifted into slender fingers.

Then the telly switched programs, the News giving way to some crime documentary, or something. Ginny wasn’t actually paying attention. At the change in music, Harry froze with his back halfway to her and his shoulders went tight.

Then he turned on the spot, and he finally registered Ginny’s presence tucked away in the kitchen at the back of the house.

Their gazes held for several beats too long, both of them wide-eyed and startled by the existence of the other in such close proximity.

Ginny’s heart thundered inside her chest, in a way that was achingly familiar and entirely unwelcome.

“What are you– I didn’t think–” Harry stammered quickly. “Ron said he was meeting you back home?”

“He was,” Ginny answered, just as flustered. “I’d planned on it but– I couldn’t– I mean, I…changed my mind.”

Harry dug his fingers into his eyes behind his glasses and swore softly. He looked a bit peaky.

“Christ, I’m an idiot,” He croaked. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve called.”

“No, it’s fine,” she reassured, not quite sure why she was pardoning his intrusion. “It’s still your house.”

They stared at each other in the silence for several beats too long, both of them seemingly at a loss for what to do next.

“Er–” Harry finally stammered, a grin taking over his face. “Hi, by the way.”

Ginny laughed. “Yeah... long time, no see.”

They went in for a hug at the same time, but it was too light and too quick to feel natural. As he pulled away, Harry averted his gaze and let his eyes wander around the hall and the front two rooms.

“Is Luna…” he trailed off, as if those two words were question enough.

Ginny realised she was still covered in baking powder and half finished dough. She grabbed a tea towel from the hook and wiped her hands just for something to look at besides him. “She and her Dad were visiting family in Hamburg when the stay at home orders hit. She’s been stuck there for over a month. They can’t get a flight home.”

Harry nodded and let out a deep exhale of sympathy. “Fuck, yeah, that’d be awful.” He paused, shooting her a furtive glance. “And you? How–how are you?”

“Yeah, fine,” One half of her mouth tipped into a smile. “You?”

Shaking his head as if in thought, his hands fidgeted slightly in front of him. “Well, London is a disaster. They aren’t letting anyone leave their homes, or letting anyone into town. They’re letting people leave, but it took me ten days just to get approval to hop a train. I figured it couldn’t be so bad up here, you know? That’s why I…”

He trailed off again and Ginny wondered if he’d become incapable of finishing a coherent sentence in the time since she’d seen him last.

“Makes sense,” she nodded generously.

Harry remained exactly where he was, awkwardly perched on the welcome mat.

“You can come in,” Ginny asserted and he flinched a bit like he hadn’t expected to actually be allowed to stay.

“Right,” he cleared his throat and stepped forward like a man walking the plank.

Busying herself with the kettle, she tried not to be too aware of his progress through the sitting room.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him wave to the bookshelves on either side of the fireplace. “I like what you’ve done with the place.”

Ginny grinned. The house held tell-tale signs of being solely occupied by her for the last month and a half. Stray jumpers, and rumpled throw pillows, and forgotten cups of tea sat scattered all around. The dishes in the sink were piled several days too high and the bananas on her countertop were just a shade too brown.

“It’s a disaster,” she corrected, pulling her last two bags of tea out of the cupboard.

Harry flashed her a smile, but it was gone just as quickly as it came. “I mean the furniture and things. The colours.”

“The colours?” she repeated incredulously.

“Yeah,” he hummed, finally inching his way fully into the kitchen. He swallowed as his eyes settled on her once more. “It looks nice. Cosy.”

Snorting, she pulled her nearly empty carton of milk out of the refrigerator. “A sight better than when you and Ron lived here, you mean?”

That fleeting smirk again, there and then gone. “Do you know our sofa broke in two when we tried to move it out?”

“That does not surprise me in the slightest.”

Ginny poured and they both chuckled. She passed him one of the mugs and the milk, remembering how he took it. She reckoned it was one of those things she’d never forget. Like the opening to her favourite Spice Girls’ song, or her childhood phone number, or the rhymes to bonfire night. Two plus two equals four and Harry took his tea with milk, no sugar.

He tipped a splash into his cup, seemed to hesitate for a second, and then burst, “I can get a room. There’s got to be a hotel open in Old Town–”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ginny cut across him, spooning a heap of sugar into her own tea. Again, she wasn’t quite sure why she was contradicting him, but she refused to chase the thought down, because then she’d have to acknowledge that somewhere deep down she wanted him to stay.

“Ginny,” he croaked. “I can’t intrude like this. I’ll figure something out. I’ll go stay at Sirius’ place in the country, or–”

“Harry,” she interrupted him again. “It’s your house.”

He seemed determined to put himself out. “But I can’t just show up out of the blue and–”

“Luna took your old room–” she continued as if he hadn’t spoken.

“I mean, you pay rent!” Now he was just talking to himself. “I had no right–”

“And she’s obviously not using it–” Ginny reasoned, though the ramifications of what she was suggesting crept up on her in a gradual recognition of awareness.

“I bet the Chisholm Hunter has rooms–”

“Harry!” she cut across him in humoured agitation. “It’s fine. Stay tonight, or the next few days, or a week, until you figure it out. It’s fine.”

He blinked, the furrow between his brows deepening in thought. “You’re sure it’s okay?”

“Yes,” she lied, like a liar. “It’s not a big deal.”

It was kind of a big deal, but she could handle it.

“You said they aren’t letting people into London, right?” Ginny continued. “What are you going to do? Rent a room until they let you go back home? That could be months!”

He opened his mouth as if to argue, then shut it again and exhaled sharply through his nose.

“Yeah, alright,” He conceded. “But only until I can get ahold of Sirius. Then, I swear, I’ll get out of your hair.”

The statement stung, just a little. As if getting out of her sight was vastly preferable than remaining in it.

“Where is he?” Ginny asked instead, lifting her mug to her mouth as if completely unaffected.

Harry pulled out his mobile and punched in his passcode. “Australia. Apparently their cherry trees don’t bloom until September.”

A scoff bubbled up in the back of her throat. “Lucky Australia.”

He muttered something that sounded like agreement and pressed the phone to his ear. As he meandered back into the sitting room, Ginny turned her cupboards in search of biscuits. Surely, she still had a package left somewhere.

Harry returned within moments. “Didn’t answer.”

“Well,” she shrugged, “Isn’t it like three in the morning?”

Harry gave her a flat look. “It’s Sirius.”

She laughed. “Yeah, okay, that’s fair.”

Something in his expression sparked at her reaction and it made the breath in her lungs go shallow.

Just like his smiles, the flare of something was there and then gone in an instant. She tried not to feel the familiarity of it, really she did, but something hollowed out spread through her middle at the reminder of her nearly debilitating infatuation, and then its eventual collapse.

Ginny cleared her throat, coming back to her senses. “So, you said it took you forever to get a train ticket. Have they decreased the routes?”

“Oh, erm–” Harry took a sip of tea that was clearly too hot for his mouth and he winced. “Yeah, and they’re checking into everyone who books.”

Understanding washed over her. “Right, so they make sure people aren’t…”

Great, now she was incapable of finishing her sentences.

He looked to her uncomfortably. “I hadn’t actually ever seen my birth certificate, I just always figured I was a Beta. Had to have a Doctor check me over once to make sure I wasn’t — you know — that I hadn’t gone unidentified.”

“Right, good. Nice.”

Why exactly was it nice? She should really stop talking.

“Is that why you…” He gestured vaguely south with one hand. “Couldn’t…go home?”

“Oh, er-” Ginny resisted the urge to cringe. “No.”

In reality, she’d had plenty of time to book a train to Devon before they started restricting the passengers who were designated one way or the other, but she hadn’t had the funds.

Harry’s gaze sharpened in curiosity.

“Do you want to put your stuff upstairs?” she asked brightly. “You must be knackered after travelling all day.”

~~~

Ginny retreated to the bathroom, closing the door softly behind her and leaning back against the sink. Shortly after Harry had settled into Luna’s room, his old room, she’d heard his mobile ring. His muffled voice through the mostly closed door had been maddening, and nearly too tempting to eavesdrop on, so she’d escaped.

She was half-torn. One part of her wished Sirius was offering up his country house to his godson immediately, and the other part hoped there was some flood, or fire, or other natural disaster that made it inhabitable.

Because the prospect of spending time with someone, but especially him; to not be alone hour after hour and day after day, was almost too exquisite to contemplate.

Christ, she was hopeless.

With nothing better to do than simmer in her own thoughts, Ginny turned the taps to the bath and adjusted the temperature until the shower spray was borderline scorching. She spent an excessive amount of time washing her hair and scrubbing her skin. She didn’t bother trying to figure out if she was doing it consciously or subconsciously, but she did know she was avoiding the end of her shower. Because as soon as she left the bath, she’d find out if he was staying or going.

Both scenarios felt too formidable to contemplate.

Eventually, though, the water ran cold, and Ginny couldn’t hide any longer.

After brushing her teeth, applying night cream, and wrapping herself up in her dressing gown, Ginny yanked open the bathroom door to find Harry standing directly in the doorway, with his fist raised as if to knock.

“Oh, sorry–” He muttered, his gaze flitting down her body and back up again. His face flushed just enough to notice. “That was Sirius,” he continued. “I can stay at his place, so I’ll be out of here as soon as I can book a train.”

Ginny pulled in a breath and did her best to keep it even. “Right. Good.”

She felt anything but good.

Squeezing past him and into the hallway, she kept her expression bright and open until she was safe inside her bedroom.

In her haste, she missed the way his eyes fluttered shut as she passed.

~~~

That night was unseasonably hot. The forecast had called for it to be a mild week, balmy and temperate, so Ginny wasn’t sure why the air wafting in through her open window felt so stifling. As she tossed and turned, a light sheen of sweat clung to her skin, and she contemplated the merits of another shower. This time a cold one.

She settled for a glass of water instead.

Padding down the hall toward the stairs, Ginny skirted past Luna’s room as quickly and quietly as she could. However, in the end, stealth didn’t matter.

Harry was already in the kitchen, propped up against the sink and looking pale.

“You okay?” Ginny muttered, taking a tentative step forward.

Clenching his eyes shut, Harry kept his head down and nodded. “I don’t know what’s happened to my stomach. Food poisoning or something–”

“I may have some Pepti upstairs?”

Harry nodded again.

She took a step closer, reaching for a glass from the shelf when the scent hit her. It smelled like fresh spring mornings, and the citrus of Earl Grey tea, and the warmth of never being alone. It smelled like home.

Every instinct she had screamed at her to take in more of it, to surround herself in it. Harry’s eyes met hers through the dim light and she saw him pull in a deep inhale through flared nostrils.

In an instant, her mind was restless and her body uncomfortably warm. Parts of her she didn’t know could ache, gnawed and cramped in time with her too loud pulse.

She dropped the glass she’d been holding at the same time Harry lept backwards.

In some corner of her mind, she knew what was happening. All of the doctors listed the same symptoms over and over; heightened senses, irregular body temperature, lower-abdominal cramps, increased libido. However, she was firmly ignoring the signs… especially the last one. It was much easier to dismiss her body’s immediate urges as coincidence. Otherwise, she would also have to admit what triggered it.

For fuck’s sake, Harry triggered it.

But that would mean he–

Fucking fuck, fuck, fuck.

#hinny #severalsunlitdaylights #hinny fic #a/b/o #harry/ginny #harry x ginny #my fic

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sherifftillman · 2 years

Text

busy streets and busy lives • ralph penbury x reader

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

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

Word count: 9.3k

A/N: This thing's getting out of control at this rate! Not only do the chapters keep getting longer, I keep making more and more complicated assets to tell the story, too. I hope you like it!

Also, to all my patient angst queens (gn) out there - not sure how long it's gonna take me to write bc I'm sure it's going to RUIN ME but. Next chapter. Look out for it. :)

Also x2, big love to @steddiesandwich @joemazzmatazz and @heroeddiemunson especially for all the love and contributions they've given to this series. There's some special cameos from them especially somewhere in this chapter!

Another week goes by, another chance to check Ralph's social media numbers. Ever since he remained a trending topic on Twitter following his face reveal - along with the phrase “oh no he’s hot”, which your friends found hilarious but you found yourself feeling… Uncomfortable over. Every now and then you look up his name on social media sites, grateful that the name relatively died out to the point where he’s one of the most popular Ralphs these days, though it leaves you with a strange feeling in your stomach every time.

There’s just something about the way people tend to objectify him - he’s your friend, and you know he’s so much more than the curls in his hair and the chain on his neck and his chocolate button eyes - a phrase becoming very common amongst his admirers. Arguably the worst part about that is that, either just because you’ve been seeing talk of nothing but those details, or maybe they’re all things you’d already appreciated about Ralph, but you find yourself more and more aware of them with every day that you live with him. And with still no word from Homeless Pete about whether the time machine is awake again.

You even start to visit the building that Ralph had pointed out on that day 6 weeks ago for yourself, just to see if it really is taking that long to reboot, but it seems to be an ordinary lift every time you go to look at it. You’d be lying if you said you were anything other than relieved whenever the lift would work completely normally, even when you tried to replicate how Ralph had described Pete getting the two of them over here.

If you were a stranger, looking in on Ralph every now and then, you’d have no reason to believe he wasn’t just your flatmate. He’s been getting more confident about his own role in the modern world, even going so far as to hold brunches for his girl gang, which you’d appreciate a lot more if he ever told you in advance when they’d happen. Though you can usually predict at this point that, if you’re having a rough day at work, you can guarantee you’ll be returning to a flat full of people that you can’t decompress around.

Not that you didn’t like Ralph’s friends, of course you did - but you’ve been letting Ralph have this group to himself, so as not to make him fully co-dependent on you. You hope that, if anything, him having the confidence to keep up so many friends himself will translate once he’s back home and he can hopefully confront his sister. You know it’s a sore subject, and so you’ll never ask - and it’s not got anything to do with you, anyway - but you wonder whether he’ll seek Lauren out there as well. Whether the New Ralph will try to win her back, or realise that he deserves more than someone who even you know wouldn’t be compatible with him. But again, that’s none of your business.

Today’s another day off, and you and Ralph are sat in your living space. With Ralph growing tentatively more aware of what social media is actually for, he’s accumulated many questions about it that you’d told him you’d have to dedicate a whole day to answering, and that day has finally arrived.

“Okay, first things first,” Ralph starts, crossing his legs on the sofa cushion beneath him and opening a book he had bought a couple of weeks back. “Who is mister Stanley Loona and why do people insist on telling me his name all the time?”

You promised yourself you wouldn’t laugh in his face, that just because internet lingo is second nature to you doesn’t mean that Ralph is silly for not understanding. But Mr Stanley Loona immediately cracked you. Once you calm down, you apologise profusely. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I really didn’t want to do that! But, stan in this sense isn’t a name, it’s a verb. To stan something is to be a really, really big fan of it. Loona spelled the way you see it, that’s a Korean pop group.”

“That explains all the dancing ladies that accompany that name, then,” Ralph mutters under his breath as he scrawls on his notepad some more. You bite your knuckle so as not to laugh again. “So, if I were to express my gratitude to you, would I say that I stan you?”

You feel your face get warm. “Well - not exactly, stanning is more of a parasocial thing, between fan and celebrity, or character, or franchise. For example, you might call yourself an Audrey 2 stan,” you smirk as you jerk your head over to the TV screen, where Ralph has requested Little Shop of Horrors for the fifth time since he’s been here.

He looks at the TV in awe for a moment, “That puppeteering work is just spectacular, isn’t it?!” You’d felt your emotions rise and then drop fleetingly. He’d once referred to something as being “wizard”, and you’d been dying to hear it again, but clearly it must have been a phrase reserved for the most truly special of things. He clears his throat as he reads down his list. “Anyway, next question. Why does everyone feel the need to tell me about their lack of headgear when I ask for clarification on something?”

You rack your brain for a moment before it clicks, “Do you mean that they say the words “no cap”?” Ralph nods. “That’s just another way of saying “no lie”, it means they want you to know they’re telling the truth. Remember, we talked about fact checking the things you read for the first time before you believe them?”

Ralph frowns, “Listen here, it would not be entirely uncommon for a Penbury to be loosely related to royalty, we’ve always had ties with high society for generations -”

“Something tells me that maybe you’re probably not closely related enough to a Nigerian prince that they’d be genuinely emailing you to offer you a share in their fortune,” you reach out to pat his knee before smirking. “And the less said about your potential investment in enhancement pills, the better.”

“Moving on,” Ralph quickly continues with deliberation, his ears growing pink again. “So, when you posted that photo of me, the one where I had been wearing a red scarf. It seemed to make a lot of people sad,” he frowns. “And they kept telling me I was in an era that I didn’t recognise, the one of Jake Geel- Guy- G-” He sighs in frustration as he flips his book around to show you the name he’s copied down perfectly, but you’ve already figured it out, and texted both Anna and Grace to let them know that the time has come to show Ralph the full video of All Too Well.

Neither of them respond to your text, but they’re both at the flat within ten minutes, thankfully interrupting the second after Ralph deadpan asks you for the definition of the word “bussy”.

The girls are a little taken aback at the sight of Ralph, which worries him, but they answer his concerned expression with, “Oh, sorry, there’s nothing wrong! Just so used to seeing you always looking smartly dressed. Strange seeing you in pyjamas.”

Ralph frowns, “Well, yes, you must always look smart, even in your resting hours, that’s why I got these matching pyjama sets! They don’t quite seem to be what they used to be, but I’ve been getting rather used to sleeping in shirts without buttons!”

“I’m not sure how Pokémon PJs could be considered “smart”, but you do you, bud,” Anna ruffles his hair, which he sits upright to lean into happily. Between that and his co-opting of Grace’s love of pet names, he’s become very comfortable amongst your friends’ presence. Even if you do have to find ways to make sure they don’t see you react every time Ralph calls anyone “darling”.

“Poke them on? What am I supposed to poke?” Ralph asks, pressing the graphic of the yellow creature on his shirt.

Anna smiles, “No, Ralph, those are Pokémon. That’s Pikachu.”

“God bless you,” Ralph looks Anna in the eye immediately, straight faced as anything, before looking around for a box of tissues.

“Oh my god,” you groan under your breath, hanging your head as your friends laugh. “You know, the Pokémon ones aren’t even his worst set.”

“I got some that have a man named Rick on them who became a pickle, no less!” Ralph explains excitedly, his nose wrinkling as his head bobs back and forth. “The shop assistant assured me that it was quite hilarious when it happened.”

“This isn’t even the worst thing he’s said this morning,” you look at the girls in despair. “I’ll never let Connor take him shopping alone again.” They promise not to, either, and you gesture for them to join you around the TV. Before you can reposition yourself to allow for them to sit between you and Ralph, Anna has sat herself on the other side of Ralph to you, and Grace is on the floor.

Ralph’s brow furrows. “Grace, please, allow me to sit in your place and you up here, the floor is no place for a lady to be sitting -”

Grace interrupts, in her classic way, “Women can do anything, Ralph!”

He frowns, “I hardly think that sitting on the floor is something that anyone should aspire to, regardless of gender, but I suppose if you must.” Grace and Anna exchange similar expressions that you can’t quite get a read on as you set up the video to play.

Ralph’s first thought as it starts is, “Well, that actress certainly looks far too young to be playing the part of this man’s partner believably!”

“Keep watching,” Anna hushes, though it’s only Ralph that’s looking at the screen; the three of you anxiously await his reactions to the whole video. He pulls faces of disgust at every loved-up scene, and positively scowls when Dylan O’Brien drops Sadie Sink’s hand.

“Now, why would she possibly return to him after that godawful apology?!” he exclaims. “He was clearly just telling her what she wanted to hear, there was no weight behind that at all!”

“We were all young and stupid once, Ralphie babes,” Grace shakes her head.

“But surely these men would want something far more enriching with someone their own -” Ralph falters as he remembers how he and his twin had found their father on the day he had passed away. He had always found it strange that they’d found him lying naked on top of a far younger woman, and his mother’s rushed explanation of them both performing a specific style of Chinese acrobatics never quite seemed to ring true. He shrinks down in the seat as he watches, quietly seething.

He does seem to perk up ever so slightly when he sees the protagonist celebrating her birthday surrounded by her own friends. “I’m glad she saw what an awful man he was and left him,” he muses.

“Oh no, he broke up with her,” you explain, and Ralph’s expression once again shifts to that of total horror.

“What?!” he exclaims. “And she was just turning 21?! What an awful, awful man.”

“Yeah, when it actually happened to the real couple, his PR team came out and said it was all because the two of them were in the limelight so much.”

“Ridiculous,” Ralph spits, scowling as he folds his arms.

“Yeah, so that’s why now she’s getting her side of the story out there.”

“Good for her! As she should,” Ralph nods, earning himself another head pat from Anna. He gasps loudly, “Wait!” and rushes to the bedroom, soon emerging with the red scarf that prompted this whole situation, though he holds it as though it’s diseased. “Do you think she would like this one? Could we send it to her as a present?”

A chorus of aww s comes from your friends as you shake your head, “It’s fine, mate, and you don’t even have to throw it away, really.”

He looks at it, and then pulls a face. “No, I can’t. Red has never especially been my colour, anyway.”

The girls continue teaching Ralph about Taylor Swift’s relationship history as you inform the boys enquiring in the group chat as to where everyone is. They’re talking about how she’s always written her own songs when Anna asks, “Do you play any instruments, Ralph?”

His eyes light up, “Oh, yes! I must say, leaving home… The way that I did, I do miss my ukulele.” Your eyes dart quickly to see if the girls react to Ralph talking about leaving home, but thankfully that’s not the part that they focus on.

They excitedly ask him about his craft as you text the one friend you know can help you give Ralph a little bit of his old life back:

You also tell Scott that Connor is coming over, and he lets you know that he may as well complete the group.

Connor does, however, groan when he and Scott walk through the door, “We did not come all this way to listen to Taylor Swift the whole time.”

Ralph frowns at his new favourite artist being disrespected, but you pat his shoulder comfortingly. “Why don’t you play us a song?” Everyone else nods excitedly as Connor hands him the instrument, but Ralph looks unsure as he starts strumming.

“Well, I don’t really know any actual songs, I just know the chords and then I write my own,” Ralph admits, his ears getting pink.

Scott looks at him and gasps excitedly. “I beg, play one of your songs for us!”

“Oh, codswallop, you don’t want to hear any of that!” You could fry something on the poor man’s ears, they were that red.

Instead, in a bid to satiate everyone, you tell your Echo to play Queen, but it doesn’t recognise your voice, as you’d forgotten until this moment. Sighing in half-hearted frustration, you ask Ralph, “Can you ask it to just play Queen , please?”

Ralph shuffles in his seat, shimmies his shoulders and grins proudly as he looks around all of your friends. “I’m the machine’s best friend, you know, it only wants to listen to me!”

“He set it up to be locked on his voice?” Connor asks, amused.

“And figured out he could use it to buy things,” you smile sarcastically, flicking your eyes over to a new pair of shoes sitting just by the door.

“So it’s not you that’s suddenly into tap dancing, then? Shame,” Scott teases as you flip him off.

“He did also order me those as an apology,” you gesture at the arrangement of a variety of flowers that sits on your coffee table. “Though off my account, so really it was a gift to and from myself.”

“Do you all mind, please?” Ralph asks shortly, and you all fall silent. “Thank you.” He clears his throat. “Alexa, darling, be a gem and play some Queen music for my friends, won’t you, please?”

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

He frowns, “My speech was quite clear, was it not?!”

You squeeze your eyes shut as you pinch the bridge of your nose, to everyone else’s quiet titters. “Three words, mate. That’s all you need to say.”

Ralph’s eyes widen with fear as he shakes his head. “That thing already knows how to do too much, once it gains full sentience, I want it to see me as an ally!”

“Then just add a single please at the end,” you explain, resigned, which he does to his own chagrin.

While Ralph doesn’t know any of the songs, obviously, he does seem to be enjoying listening out for how chord progressions go and trying to play along with them. He seems at peace with the instrument. It’s very sweet to watch.

Connor pulls you out of your trance by loudly exclaiming from behind you, “Speaking of good old fashioned lover boys!” You cringe at your friend’s segue, terrified at what that could insinuate. “Hey Ralphie, have you managed to pull yet?"

He looks at you, confused, and mouths, Pull?

You roll your eyes and shake your head before addressing your friend again. "Ralph's had enough to learn just being here, and besides, I am not laying out here while he goes at it with some stranger in my bed, thank you!" You can't even think about Ralph kissing anyone else, let alone… No. Absolutely not.

When you look back over at Ralph, his ears resemble a pair of Polish flags. “Gadzooks, certainly not! I couldn’t - I would never - not even - that would take months of courting!”

Your warning stares at your friends to not laugh at the word gadzooks doesn’t last through the mention of courting. “It’s… A bit different around here these days, Ralph. You know those things on your phone, the apps?” He nods. “And how there’s apps for everything?” Another nod. “Well, there are apps that help you connect with potential… Suitors,” even you have to bite your lip as you try to translate the likes of Tinder into Ralphspeak. “You make a profile with photos and a description of yourself, and you look at other peoples profiles to see if you like them. If you both like each other, you can talk to each other and arrange to see each other from there.”

Ralph looks entirely perplexed, but he still hands his phone over to an excited Scott. “Right, do we use a photo from his Insta that’s already doing numbers? That way we know what’s gonna be the best received.”

Grace shakes her head, “Nah, anyone who recognises him will just think it’s a catfish.”

Ralph leans close to you to ask quietly, “Why would they -”

“They’re not gonna think you’re a fish, Ralph,” you groan back in the same volume. “A catfish is someone who pretends to be someone else on the internet. So, what photo do we use?” You hope they don’t ask to look through your camera roll. You’re forever taking candids as potential shots for Ralph’s social media, but the ratio of photos you take versus ones you feel are good enough to post may give your friends ideas about just why you take so many photos of him. And you don’t need that to add even more complications to what is already the most bizarre two months of your life.

“Definitely a brand new one, right off the bat,” Grace nods.

“Could we not use one that already exists that nobody’s seen? Anyone got any of those?” Connor asks. You quickly shake your head, keeping your phone out of sight. He frowns, “All I’ve got is group photos.”

“Oh, never have a group photo as your first one,” Anna shakes her head. “Why don’t we just let Ralph choose how to have his first photo, without our judgement? It’s his profile, after all.”

Despite their complaints, the others agree to let Ralph decide what photo he should take, though you do suggest that perhaps he change out of his Pokémon pyjamas first. Your friends are quick to hurry him, reminding him that he only really needs to change his top half.

The sight that befalls you within the next twenty minutes is arguably one of your most favourite Ralph moments. There he stands, against the back wall in your flat, wearing a smart polo shirt with bottoms that are adorned with Bulbasaurs, Squirtles and Charmanders; and after having plucked out a rose from the arrangement of flowers that he’d ordered for you and inspecting it for a while, Ralph had decided that the most charming way to pose with it would be to put it between his lips. You and your friends all look to each other to silently react without Ralph catching on, and everyone seems to silently agree that the best way to do so is to stare at Anna in a way that lets her know she’s entirely responsible for this, which she takes from everyone quite happily. It puts you at ease that all your friends are just accepting him as merely being a bit quirky, rather than anything suspicious.

Scott takes the official photos, and you’re happily documenting the behind the scenes for it all to look back on someday. Or later that night. Who’s to say? After Scott deems that the perfect shot has been taken, you all crowd around to decide what else to include. Connor comes up with the idea of creating a slideshow presentation in which you all contribute to help “sell” Ralph. He agrees to it quite happily, putting faith in everyone else’s knowledge of the modern dating world over his own lack thereof.

After much deliberation, and some creative brainstorming amongst the five of you, you create the perfect Tinder profile for him:

Once it’s all uploaded, Connor and Anna teach Ralph how to use the app, showing him how to read bios, look through others’ photos and ultimately swipe either way on them. Ralph still finds it all unusual to judge people so superficially, but Grace assures him from a distance that it’ll come with time.

While the idea of Ralph having a Tinder account did seem funny to you at the time, something doesn’t sit right in the bottom of your stomach. The idea of Ralph dating? Hilarious. The reality of it? Of him finding someone he’s attracted to, of him falling in love with someone els- someone, of him leaving you and the flat to start a life with them? How would you explain Ralph’s situation to them? What if they wanted to get married, have a family? The thought of Ralph becoming someone else’s husband just doesn’t compute. Maybe this was a bad idea after all, maybe once everyone’s gone home you can scare him away from it. But then, who are you to deny Ralph a little fun while he’s here? Surely, dating around might be a good experience for him, especially around the new friends he’s made. It’d be a good confidence booster for when he returns to his own time. It might even teach him not to fall as fast and hard for people as he did for Lauren. Or to be the kind of person that wins her back. Whatever he wants. The pros of him dating massively outweigh the cons, but there’s still something in your heart of hearts warning you against it.

At the end of the day, you tell yourself, Ralph is a grown man. Only he can decide if he is ready to date someone. It’s your job, as his friend, to support him even with all his… Extra stuff.

The gang suggests going out for a late lunch, but as you prove by gesturing to your own questionably mismatched outfit, you’d originally hoped you could take today as a laundry day. It's too late to start now, though; with the sheer amount you've got to get through, it's a full-day devotion, and now that you're all ramped up from the day's events, there's no possible way you could focus on something as mundane as washing your clothes. Instead, you all order in and pass time with some games while Ralph happily strums away in the background.

You occasionally pick up on him singing lyrics such as, “It’s easy to see yourself / through a negative lens / but it’s certainly harder / when surrounded by friends” and feel yourself welling up. As if the fact that he had changed into your favourite sweater of his, the blue mohair one that Connor had written that extra-cheesy joke about in Ralph’s profile, wasn’t enough to make your heart soar. He looks the very epitome of comfort right now.

Then Ralph gets a notification. He’s got a match! He’s thrilled, bragging about how the app found his ideal match immediately, when Connor had been talking about being on it for several years by now. The rest of the group explain that Tinder is not a matchmaking service in the sense that he thinks, and that it simply means someone he’s swiped right on has done the same to him. Connor and Scott help him communicate in a succinct, non-Ralph way that allows him to quickly arrange a date for tomorrow. That knot in the depths of your stomach wrenches tighter, but you ignore it, for the sake of Ralph’s excitement.

Connor encourages him to keep swiping still, in case he gets any more matches, and that way he can arrange even more dates! It takes Ralph a while to accustom to the modern world of dating, rather than just seeking out one person and “courting” them, as he would say, but he gets excited at the prospect of going out on dates. He doesn’t mention anything about any more matches, but he does lock himself in the bathroom for some time. You know that usually means he’s talking to his girl gang about important things; ever since that first night out, Ralph’s convinced himself that the only place to have a deep conversation with his new friends is anywhere that there’s a toilet, and quite frankly, the notion is too hilarious for you to correct him. Plus it gives him a little privacy, and you definitely don’t want him to keep relying on you for the entire duration of his stay in this era.

That night, as you lay out on your sofa, wondering if your back will ever get used to a mattress again, you notice one particular notification buried amongst the others:

Tinder Someone has Super Liked you! Find out who.

You admittedly hadn’t been swiping for a hot minute, yourself - you’ve been somewhat preoccupied with a whole new flatmate to worry about - but since it was the topic of the day, you figure you’ll bite. A few ordinary profiles show up, but none of them take your fancy. Even the cute ones, their bios are just so… Dry . And then you see it. The profile that Super Liked you, the blue border perfectly coordinating with the artwork that hangs on the wall behind you.

~~~

The following morning, Ralph awakens earlier than usual. He’s excited about his date tonight, and still conflicted about something else that had happened last night. He looks through the group chat app again to remind himself of his friends’ advice:

If you don’t say anything about it, neither will Ralph, but if you do, then it’s time to sit down and discuss these feelings like the adults you both are. That’s what he tells himself.

Ralph takes a deep breath before opening the door from the bedroom into the main part of the flat. You’re in the kitchen area, finishing off your breakfast with a duffel bag full of clothes resting on the counter. It appears that almost all of your clothes must be in there, since you’ve resorted to wearing one of Ralph’s most favourite T-shirts that he’d picked out himself. The way that it fits your form so differently to Ralph captivates him into silence, and the fact that it almost covers your pyjama shorts entirely feels so scandalous to him. He has to stop looking, or else his mind will wander to uncouth places, but he just can’t .

Not until you catch his eyesight and groan as you roll your own eyes at him. “Morning, Ralph! Don’t worry, I’ll make myself “decent” now that you’re out, I think I’ve got some yoga pants shoved in the back of the wardrobe from that one New Year when I was convinced I would join the gym,” your voice disappears as you walk past him and shut the door behind you.

Ralph makes himself some cereal, once again telling himself that he has to stop living in this secret. Especially if he’s to pursue other people.

You re-emerge from the bedroom, now wearing bottoms that cover your entire legs, but they may as well not at all be, with how little they leave to the imagination. You ask, “Oh yeah, by the way, did you… Happen to find my profile on Tinder last night? Because I think you must have swiped up instead of left, and Super Liked me by accident.”

“Accident!” Ralph exclaims hurriedly, squeezing his eyes shut and open again, and clenching and releasing his fist repeatedly, desperate to change his focus onto anything else. “Yes, that's entirely what that was, I’m so glad we cleared that up! Aha! I suppose I should get ready for my date now!”

You frown, “That’s not for hours yet, and Scott said he’d take you to get ready while I - don't forget your cereal!” You call out after him as he rushes back into the bathroom but the door closes behind him before you can finish your sentence. You write on the whiteboard that you keep on your fridge that you’re going to be at the laundromat for most of the day doing your laundry, but that Scott is arriving at 12 o’clock to take him out clothes shopping and to help him get ready, as you’ll be busy. You leave him your bank card to take with him on his big date, and wish him well before heading out of the door.

Ralph rests his phone against the bathroom wall, goes onto the only group he trusts himself to keep on WhatsApp and hits the video call button before immediately pacing the room. One by one, his friends pick up, all asking various questions.

“What happened?”

“Did you talk about it?”

“Are you okay?”

“Did you have an argument?”

Ralph blinks harshly again, his arms gesticulating with a deliberate wildness to them. “You all remember that the plan was, say nothing unless I’m spoken to, and then tell the truth, no matter what?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, I may have been… Distracted. And I may have shouted that it was an accident and ran into here.”

“Oh, babe, you didn’t.”

“Ralph!”

“We had a plan, hun! We mapped it all out!”

“I know, I know!” Ralph holds his hands on top of his head. “I was so ready, I was telling myself the plan over and over, and then… Well, it’s so-called laundry day, and I’ve had more time to get mine done and so my clothes were the only clean ones and -”

“Oof, god, yeah. Once you see your crush wearing your clothes, it is game over.”

“Oh, Ralphie, what are we gonna do with you?”

“Well, the damage has been done, now. It’s probably best to just… I guess, either try and get over how you’re feeling, or wait until another opportunity arises. If it does.”

“Yeah, honestly, babes, I’d say cut your losses for the day and focus on your big date tonight, that’s so exciting for you!”

“Oh my god, you’re gonna tell us everything, aren’t you?”

Ralph sighs, rubs his eyes and puts on a small smile. “Yes, of course I will. Thank you all for being my voices of reason, I do appreciate you.”

“Anytime, my lovely. Now, tell us all about this date. Where is it you’re going?”

“Well, Scott knows the location, but apparently it’s some kind of cocktail bar that plays swing and jazz and all the music that I like! I do hope there’ll be dancing,” he places his elbow on the sink to rest his head wistfully onto his fist, to an adoring chorus from the girls. They all sign off, wishing Ralph the best, and he hangs up, too. Right, Penbury, he tells himself, there’s nothing more you can do. You’ve messed up one more avenue of your love life, let’s not let it ruin another.

Instead, he focuses on his date tonight. He knows the exact look he wants to go for. And so, despite the comments he gets on how nice he looks, he just can’t justify having facial hair with such a smart outfit in mind.

Scott almost doesn’t recognise him, and calls Ralph “baby face” all day. It’s not his favourite nickname, but he’s been called worse. Scott helps him to pick out a nice suit with a bow tie - Scott had had the audacity to suggest Ralph wear a neck tie, for crying out loud - that Ralph liked because it reminded him of a suit he had back at home. Light tan in colour, with pinstripes down it. Just like his everyday going out suit. Scott had turned his nose up at it, but had admitted that “vintage” isn’t his style, anyway. Ralph had wanted to get a straw boater to really complete the look, but Scott wouldn't let him wear it past taking a photo.

Ralph gets ready at Scott’s apartment, a little more upscale than the flat, but he shares it with his partner. Ralph had only met him a few times, but he was always absolutely besotted with everything Ralph had to say, and Ralph couldn’t deny that he loved the attention. It was always Victoria that everyone wanted. But not here. People know the name Ralph here. Not The Penbury Boy, not Victoria’s Brother, or That Other One. Not Creepy Stalker. Just Ralph.

Scott and his partner help preen Ralph for his big night out at Ralph’s request, but they both audibly groan when he teaches them the hairstyle his old staff would give him - though of course, he omitted the involvement of any “staff” from his explanation.

“First the beard, and now you want me to gel down the curls? You’re killing me here, Ralphie. Literally taking years off my life,” Scott frowns as he pats down Ralph’s hair.

“I shall remember you fondly,” Ralph jokes, making Scott’s partner laugh.

“Rude!” Scott scoffs jokingly. “You’ve spent too much time with that flatmate of yours.”

Ralph’s heart still sinks thinking about his blunder this morning. Instead, he goes back to teasing Scott by composing an obituary as he styles his hair for him.

After a few final looks in the mirror, Ralph feels as though he’s gone back in time, as though the last 6 weeks had never happened. Another wave of sadness befalls him at that thought, but he pushes it aside. His nerves are a calling card for any negativity to overwhelm him, and he was determined to have a good time.

Scott walks him to the bar and waits outside with him until someone recognises him. As an extra measure to protect him from any radical internet followers, Scott borrows Ralph's phone to corroborate that he's definitely meeting his date, returns the phone back to Ralph with the reminder to ring you first and him second if anything happens, and bids the pair adieu.

Once he's gone, Ralph greets his companion for the evening by taking her hand and gently dusting her knuckles with his lips. She looks him up and down strangely, turning her nose up as she pulls back her hand slowly. Ralph could do the same, she certainly isn’t dressed for the occasion, but he won’t, because he’s a gentleman.

She does try to make the effort to get to know Ralph, at first. Making small talk about how he came to this part of London, he tells her he was simply looking to get away from his old life. She asks him what he does for a living, and seems to judge him again for saying that he was yet to find employment.

She lets him buy her a martini, despite him having ordered that with the intention of drinking it. She seemed to already be judging him for potentially ordering that drink for himself, so he ordered one of the only other drinks he knows that he likes - a double whiskey and lemonade, courtesy of Scott himself. She doesn’t seem to disapprove, at least.

Barely anybody in this place seems to be in the spirit of things. They’re all just standing. Talking. There’s a very sweet older couple in the corner who are dancing away, that Ralph watches wistfully. He gestures over to them, looking at his date. “Rather lovely,” he notes. “Do you dance, at all?”

“Not like that,” she shakes her head.

“Would you like me to show you?” He asks excitedly, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

She rubs her arm awkwardly. “I’m good, thanks. Nobody else is doing it, it’d be weird if we started.”

“Right. Right, of… Of course it would,” Ralph falters, dejected.

“I need to use the ladies’ room,” his date states plainly.

Ralph nods, “Of course, I shall be waiting right here!”

As she walks away from him, Ralph decides he can still smooth things over by buying her another drink. He buys himself another double whiskey lemonade, for liquid courage, and the lady another martini, and returns to the spot he promised he’d wait for her.

And he waits.

He sips his drink.

And he waits.

When he finally turns around to ask a member of staff to check on her, he’s met with many a sympathetic look. Ralph may not know a lot about dating in the modern age, but he knows that look when he sees it a mile off. Downing both the whiskey mix and the martini, he finds a quiet corner and takes out his phone.

~~~

You’d been a fool for going to the laundromat in October with just Ralph’s T-shirt and a light jacket on. Being in a heated building means nothing if the front door is being left open all the damn time. Checking the time on your machines, you deduce that you just about have enough time to drive back, very quickly grab an extra layer and drive back.

Rushing into your flat, you look around for anything that you could throw on that’s within arm’s reach. Nothing in the living area. Nothing in the kitchen area. Nothing in the bathroom. Desperate, you burst into the bedroom and you see it.

You’ve loved that blue jumper of Ralph’s from the moment you’d first seen it on him. You’d called it his Cookie Monster jumper, though of course that went over his head. It’s always looked so soft, and he’s forever burying his face in his arms when he wears it. It’s sickeningly adorable to be around. You’ve always wished you could experience its comfort for yourself, but Ralph would never let it out of his sight, and you very rarely get the opportunity to offer Ralph a hug without it potentially causing any more confusion in the nature of your friendship with him; certainly never so while he has ever worn the jumper.

And so you jump at the chance to finally experience it for yourself. Throwing it on, not only are you immediately comforted with the soft sensation against your skin, but a familiar smell wafts around you. The ultimate makeup of the olfactory cocktail that is Ralph Penbury’s signature smell.

You wonder how he’s getting on as you rush back out to your car. Whether he’s picked his outfit or if Scott’s moulded him in his own image. Whether he’s excited, scared, confident. Whether he plans on kissing her at the end of the night.

You hit the steering wheel with the heel of your hand. Why are you worrying about these things? You never do when Connor, Grace or Anna go out. Perhaps it’s because you’re so used to being on 24/7 Ralph alert that not having him around keeps you on edge. But he’s bound to go home soon. And then you’ll be in this Ralph-less void all the time. That’s far, far worse a fate. And yet, cruelly, it’s the inevitable one.

You make it just in time for the washing machine to chime. Throwing your clothes into the industrial sized dryer, you sit and scroll through your phone. You check the numbers of Ralph’s last Instagram photo, and end up reading through the comments from all of his little fans. None of them know that he could disappear off of social media at a moment’s notice.

Except, now he could never truly disappear. Whenever he goes back, whenever his fifteen minutes of internet fame are up, he’s left his permanent mark on the world. On you, your friends, even all these people. Though they only see Ralph superficially. They see his photos, and his twitter presence, and they think they know him, especially since he learned how to reply to people when they would ask him questions. Sure, they know that he prefers strawberry ice cream, and that his favourite Gilmore Girls character is Paris, but they don’t know that he ties his shoes with bunny ears. They don't get to see that no matter how wild his bed hair is in the morning, one curl always falls across his forehead. They don’t know that he smells like citrus with an extra whiff of cinnamon.

You bury your face beneath the sweater you’re wearing and breathe in deeply. An elderly woman looks at you fondly, and you bring yourself back to reality, sitting upright and switching to a puzzle game on your phone instead. You're already fooling yourself with these delusions of imagining a life where Ralph's a more permanent fixture. You can't be letting the locals believe it, too. That's just for you.

Once your laundry's dry, you quickly fold it as neat as you can back into the bag you'd brought with you and throw the bag into the back of your car. Once you’re home, you just can’t find the energy to unpack it all. And besides, putting it away in your bedroom furniture only means you have access to it whenever Ralph isn’t there. Perhaps it’s better to keep these clothes out here in the living room, anyway.

You laugh to yourself as you go to the kitchen to find enough things to cook together to make a decent meal. If you’d have been told 3 months ago that in the very near future, you’d be living out of a bag, sleeping on your own sofa, all for the sake of a man that you’d just met, you’d have never believed them. And yet, here you are.

Once your food is made, you settle on your sofa and find something new to watch - because heaven forbid you watch one of your ongoing series without Ralph, he’d be giving you the silent treatment for the rest of the night.

You wonder how his evening is going. He should be at the bar by now. No word from Scott, though you wouldn’t exactly expect him to check in with you about Ralph’s date. Although perhaps a photo in the group chat wouldn’t have gone amiss. No word from Ralph, either.

You’re rooting for the iguana on your screen to outrun the predators that chase it, despite David Attenborough commentating his lack of faith, and it’s just escaped a tight bind as your phone rings. A particular jarring photo of your flatmate smiling his animatronic-esque fake smile fills your screen, along with the word “rALPH”.

You answer, “This better be an emergency, I’m on high alert right now.”

“Alert? In what way?”

“I’ve got an iguana I’m trying to save from some killer snakes, it’s life or death here, Ralphie.”

“Ah, right! You’re watching one of those programmes about nature again.”

“Everything alright? You sound… Sad.”

“Yes, well…”

“How’s your date going?”

“It, um… It rather isn’t.”

“What?!”

“She - She told me she was going to the women’s room. Approximately forty minutes ago.”

“Oh, Ralph. You should have called sooner!"

“And this place is nothing like I had thought it would be, nobody is giving it the respect it deserves, I’m the only one appropriately dressed and yet somehow I am the one who sticks out like a sore thumb!”

“Okay, okay, it’s alright, mate. Get to the toilet, get yourself all sorted out, I'm on my way. Make sure you’re in the right one this time, too!”

“Ha-ha. Very funny.”

“Oh, I know I am. I’ll be there as soon as I can, alright?”

While you’re still not quite ready to say goodbye to the sweater just yet, you do fish out a far nicer lower half of an outfit to go with it, before heading out the door and following Google Maps’ directions to this bar.

When you enter, you look around trying to find your friend. The first scan yields no results. Neither does the second. You’re about to take your phone out to call him again when you notice a very sad, very baby-faced Ralph talking to a bartender. He looks just like he did when you first met him - without the coffee you’d spilled over his back, of course.

You speed your pace up as you head towards him, and he doesn’t even notice you approaching until you pat his arm. He looks close to tears when he makes eye contact with you, and you immediately pull him into a hug. That clean, citrusy scent of his gets stronger as he wraps himself around you. When you start to relent, he doesn’t. With a small chuckle of defeat, you return to hugging him tightly again.

Eventually he lets go, and so you do as well, rubbing his arm comfortingly as you pull away. “You look dapper,” you comment, “really smart.”

Ralph wrinkles his nose up as he waves you off, “It’s… Really not as appropriate here as I thought.”

“Codswallop!” You grin, putting on your best Ralph voice, which makes him smile, too. “Best dressed one here, hands down.”

“I do seem to be a style icon of yours,” he muses, poking at the sweater. “It’s very becoming on you.”

“Thanks, Ralphie,” you smile, trying desperately not to blush. Instead, you pull the sleeves over your hands and ask, “You still got my card?” He nods and fumbles through his pockets to grab it and hand it to you. You lean over the bar to order two of your usual drink, and one martini for Ralph.

The bartender hisses through their teeth. “You sure? He’s already had one along with the others, he doesn’t seem in a good place to be mixing his drinks too much tonight.”

You frown, “Oh, then sure, whatever he’s been having, get him another one of those.”

You smile at the impact Scott’s clearly had on Ralph with his change in drink choice. Clinking your glass with his, you finish both of your drinks in the time he finishes his one, to try and catch up with him.

As he swills the remaining ice cubes around the bottom of his glass, a high-energy song starts to play. You grin as you outstretch your hand, “Wanna put our kitchen dance lessons to the test with me?”

Ralph looks at you sceptically, but his excitement is palpable. “Oh, heavens, we’d be the only ones dancing!”

You shrug, “So? We’d be the only ones doing it right, everyone else would be the weird ones.”

Ralph nods, “Very well,” and takes your hand. You don’t see it as you’re leading him to the dance floor area, but he’s putting all his energy into not looking completely giddy with happiness.

The two of you dance together for several songs, swinging and twirling and laughing away. You nudge Ralph to show him that you’d even inspired some other coupl- other pairs of people , you correct yourself, not wanting to slip up and accidentally refer to yourself and Ralph as a couple in front of him. Other pairs of people are now dancing just like you two were. Ralph looks around in awe just as the music slows considerably.

He looks at you with uncertainty, squeezing his eyes and his hands as he does when he’s conflicted or trying to correct himself, though he’s yet to say anything to you. “May I - I mean, we - would you like to - we could stop now, if you like, or -”

You cut Ralph off by placing your hands on his shoulders. He places his ever so tentatively on your hips as you sway from side to side together. “Thank you,” he mutters to you.

“Well, you seemed close to having a stroke over getting your words out, figured I had a good shot at guessing what you wanted before I had to call for help!”

He chuckles softly, “Not just for that. For… Everything, really. Over the last two months. I really haven’t shown you the proper gratitude.”��

“I’ve not been keeping you around for gratitude’s sake, Ralph,” you shake your head. “You’re not that bad to be around, you know,” you smirk. “I’m sorry that girl didn’t see that in you. But I’m proud of you for trying!”

“I don’t think I want to try much more,” he tells you quietly.

“Don’t blame you. I gave up a while ago, myself,” you admit. “But you did it! I bet the Ralph I first met wouldn’t have done this.”

“I am quite the changed man, thanks to you,” he says with a small smile.

“You sure don’t look it at the moment! I don’t know who this is, but I’m looking forward to getting Ralph back when we’re home.”

He frowns, “But this is how I always looked before I met you!”

“I know, but it just doesn’t… Suit you. Not like your new look. I mean, I guess if you go back in time looking like The New Ralph, everyone back there would think otherwise, but… I dunno,” you shrug your shoulders. “This doesn’t feel like the real Ralph.” Recalling a conversation you’d had with him a couple of weeks ago about how he was perceived back in his time, you add, “This is just That Penbury Boy.”

“I like that you all see a side of me that you don’t mind having around,” Ralph admits bashfully. “And I like spending time with you - all.”

“We love having you around too,” you grin. “But I am being serious, I’ll hold your head under the bathroom sink here if we don’t get that shit washed out of your hair soon.”

Ralph laughs, stepping out of the hold to extend his arm out to you. You take it and walk out of the building with him.

You laugh at the ooh! that comes out from him as you step out into the brisk air. “Yeah, all that whiskey finally kicking in?” You ask with amusement.

Ralph shakes his head, blowing a raspberry sound out into the air. “Just a tad!”

“I’m excited to see what Whiskey Ralph is like,” you muse, still keeping your arm around his as you lead him down the street.

He frowns, “Are there different versions of me based on what I drink?!”

“Different versions of Drunk Ralph, yeah,” you grin. “Martini Ralph is super sociable. Vodka Ralph, an emotional wreck. We stay away from vodka,” you warn, and he nods, remembering the shot he had taken weeks ago and shuddering again. “And from what you’ve told me, Champagne Ralph really loved to party.”

“Oh, I do so wish you could have been there for a Penbury social!” Ralph muses. “They were always such a blast to plan. I just… Sometimes I wish that Victoria let me be the “main event” host rather than the “planning” one.”

“Well, when you go back, you can down a couple of martinis, tell her to shove it, and then throw the greatest bash Penbury House will see before it gets filled with tote bag-carrying indie kids and grandmas hiding romance novels between murder mysteries,” you laugh, though it’s strained. You know it’s only fair to make sure you’re both still actively talking about him returning home, but that doesn’t make it sting any less.

Ralph gives you a small smile, “I’m not so sure about that. I think it’s far more than a few drinks that make me the man that I am while I’m here.” The way he bites his lip back bashfully would have you holding him by the cheeks and kissing it back, were you a couple more drinks in. He quietens after that, and you simply allow him to stay in that moment rather than pressing him as to what exactly he means.

Once you’re back home once again, you change back into comfortable pants while Ralph washes his hair under the shower. You also finally look at your phone’s notifications to see a lot of activity in the group chat:

Ralph re-emerges wearing another jumper and some sweats, but instead of sitting at his usual spot on the other end of the sofa to you, he sits far nearer and leans himself onto you. “Hello,” he greets simply, a dopey grin smeared across his face.

You cock your head as you smile softly at him. “Hello, cuddly-drunk Whiskey Ralph.”

“Is that what it is?” He asks, his voice slurring a little. “Do you mind?”

“Nah, just give me my arm back,” you tease as you move so that your arm is no longer trapped beneath him, instead draping it where it’s most comfortable - which just happens to be over his body.

You show Ralph the things everyone has been saying in the group chat, and he smiles into your torso. "Can I expect this jumper back any time soon, by the way?"

You grin down at him, "Yeah, you can have it back when it stops smelling like you. It's too nice to give up."

His ears burn pink as he gently settles further down until his head rests in your lap. “Do you want to see if your iguana made it out safely?”

“Oh, yeah! Here, I’ll restart the episode for you, I need you to care about this lizard as much as I do.”

Commentating alongside the documentary with Ralph proves a far more entertaining watch than before, and you both cheer as you watch the iguana finally climb up some rocks to the safety of its friend. At some point, your fingers end up absent-mindedly stroking back and forth through his hair, and you notice his chest starting to heave up and down heavier than usual. Leaning over, you see his lower lip move in and out ever so slightly with each breath as he sleeps. He looks so peaceful, and you could honestly keep him here forever. But, realistically, you can’t feel your legs and your body will certainly be unforgiving over you sleeping while sat upright.

You gently prod at Ralph all over until he wakes up. “Hmm, what?”

“Eh, what, what,” you tease, once again putting on your ‘posh voice’ before returning to your usual cadence. “C’mon, if you’re gonna sleep, go do it in a bed, please.”

“Of course,” he mumbles wearily.

When he stands up, you realise something with a laugh. “Oh, no! Oh, I’ve done a real number on your hair, look at it!”

Ralph reaches up and pats his wildly spread curls with a sleepy smile. He faces you, then turns to the bedroom door, then back to you. He repeats this a few times, and just before you can ask, he shakes his head. “Goodnight. Sleep well.”

“You too, Ralphie,” you grin as you push yourself around by your fists to lay across the sofa for the night.

When you wake up, Ralph is yet again trending on Twitter. Wondering what on earth he could have done, you’re horrified when you see paparazzi-ish photos of Ralph with you as you both danced last night. The original tweet with the photos going around has the caption, “Pack it up, girlies, Hot Ralph is taken”

Making sure your current account is most definitely still set to private, you make a new one under the name @RalphsFlatmate. You tweet an old selfie of you and Ralph with the caption, “hi, ralph stans. just here to remind you that sometimes people can be just friends and that’s it. please don’t take my photo without my consent in future. kinda insane that i have to ask that but here we are. cheers x”

Once Ralph is awake, you borrow his phone to retweet yourself onto his profile to make sure people see it and get ready for work, dreading what is now to come with also being perceived on the internet.

next chapter

#ralph timewasters #ralph timewasters x reader #ralph timewasters x you #ralph timewasters fanfic #ralph timewasters imagine #ralph penbury #ralph penbury x reader #ralph penbury x you #ralph penbury fanfic #ralph penbury imagine #ralph timewasters fluff #ralph penbury fluff #bsbl #fic: bsbl #*myfics

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tokiro07 · 2 months

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Undead Unluck ch.199 thoughts

[The Master Rules Strike Back]

[Contents: analysis/speculation - Gods/Master Rules]

I want to start this one with a quick note about last week's review: when Soul said that Luna gave people "potential," I assumed that was a built-in aspect to Soul's Rule. Based on what Soul says this week, though, it seems that human potential is a direct result of Change, not Soul. Perhaps there's still more to it that I'm not quite getting, but is it possible that Soul isn't the only UMA created by Luna? That would kind of reduce the impact of Soul's revelation, but I guess we'll find out sooner or later

The big event for this chapter is definitely the beginning of Language's offensive, but that's more of a transition into next chapter, so unless I want to speculate on where this is going, that doesn't give me a lot to work with (and I don't want to do that, you all know my predictions are always wrong)

Instead, what stands out the most to me this chapter is what Soul tells the other Master Rules as they mourn Beast: "we need to usher Beast into a validated world." I'm sure this ties back into what Beast said about God wanting the "greatest life of all." What exactly is the end goal? What interest does God have in creating a world with set rules?

I've talked about it before, but if God just wanted to torture humanity, there're definitely better ways to do that than to have a game with a set win/lose condition. I've long since believed that God (or at least Sun) is not doing any of this sadistically. UMA being ordered to make humanity suffer and Negators experiencing tragedy upon selection have both only fed into the Negators becoming more determined to fight and grow their abilities, suggesting that this is a calculated effort to groom them into worthy enemies for the Master Rules, trials to help them achieve their full potential

So what happens when the final world is created? When Sun has proven to Luna that humanity cannot reach the Gods and no longer gives them any means of fighting back? Will the Rules simply run rampant, killing humans for fun for all eternity? It's been made quite clear that Sun would one day grow bored of that, so what happens then?

I think that Sun has really just been experimenting with the Rules to see which ones make the most sense, which ones help the world run the most smoothly without simply giving humanity unearned happiness. The final world won't be a paradise, but it will presumably be one with clearly defined order. Perhaps human autonomy will be erased and the world will continue to loop, like Heaven in JJBA, or perhaps Sun will simply abandon the final world and move onto create another, a failed experiment that failed to meet his expectations. Whatever it ends up being, I get the feeling it will be presented as something good at first glance, true happiness on paper, only to fall apart upon closer inspection

The fact that the Master Rules, the most human UMAs, have been fighting as long as the Union has tells me that they have a vested interest in creating this validated world. They aren't blindly loyal to Sun like Ruin is, their happiness is set to be found in that world. Perhaps they will inherit the world, and they will be the new humans, like the end goal of the Curses in JJK? They have goals of their own beyond just trying to beat the heroes because they were told to, and that depth is definitely the puzzle piece that was missing in the early parts of UU

I hope that we'll get more insight here with the Language fight, since Language seems by her nature to be less overtly antagonistic. If Beast, a creature of instinct, was the expositor of the bare circumstances, then it would make sense that Language, presented as an intellectual, would be the expositor of the philosophical motivations behind those circumstances. Perhaps not, though, but hopefully we'll find out soon

Until next time, let's enjoy life!

#undead unluck #fouryearsandananime #4y1a reviews

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mysterious-moonstruck-musings · 8 months

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Destiny & Deliverance: Chapter 23 Teaser

Destiny & Deliverance Masterlist ||| Dieter Bravo X OFC

A/N: Good morning/afternoon my lovelies! It's time for a Chapter 23 teaser. Are you all still recovering from the previous chapter? I'm going to need you to hold it together for the next few chapters because Dieter hitting rock bottom is on the horizon. In a way, I guess Talia kind of does too. It's gonna be rough. Hopefully I can survive writing it. 😩 Chapter 23 is currently with the beta (@for-a-longlongtime) and will post as soon as we have final edits complete. I've made sure to include something a little special for her in this teaser because it gave her a good laugh and it will confuse the hell out of y'all. So of course, I'm here for it. With that said, anyone want a stray cat? 🤣 Now that I have gotten that out of my system...

So, in this chapter, we get asshole Dieter as I have previously hinted at here and here (You might find some more hints in those post comment sections😉). He is still up to his old tricks of pushing people away. That's all I will say about him for the time being. Talia is still doing her compartmentalization shit and living like the love of her life didn't just press the self-destruct button. She gets a surprise visit by someone from her past and is presented with a new opportunity that she will be indecisive about for a bit. She also gets a visit from Gabby where we get a small glimpse of what is going on in Talia's mind and how Gabby is dealing with things. Then there's Lauren and her antics...I'll stop there. 🤣 As always, share your thoughts, feelings, and predictions. They sustain me and keep me going. 🥰💜

Series Rating: Explicit (18+)

Series Summary: Natalia Cohen is experiencing major life changes, beginning with leaving an emotionally abusive husband. She is learning how to navigate life on her own while dealing with high functioning anxiety, depression, and mild PTSD. Everything is looking up for her. She is a highly respected consultant for a major LA firm, has her best friend, Lauren, by her side, and is on her path to healing. Everything changes when she meets a handsome and broken stranger on a work trip. He turns out to be a well-known actor, with a heart-breaking past. They quickly develop a connection that will forever alter their lives.

Warnings: Themes dealing with mental health, emotional trauma, alcohol use, and discussions about suicide. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn type of story. Read at your own risk.

Tag List: @rhoorl @bitchwitch1981 @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @for-a-longlongtime @hisandsnakes @chaoticfestninja @survivingandenduring @partyofone3413 @cakipy-blog @titlee78 @poodlebae @guelyury @weho2kcmo @missladym1981 @maried01 @alokaerza @samiamproductions @misstokyo7love

Let me know in the comments below if you would like to be added to the tag list.

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x oc #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo fanfiction #destiny & deliverance teaser #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #dieter bravo fanfic #pedro pascal smut #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x ofc #destiny & deliverance series #destiny & deliverance extras

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dumborangecat · 8 months

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Fionna and Cake predictions!! !SPOILERS!

(these are heavily based on parts 1 & 2 of my analysis, and reference them frequently so they might not make sense without reading it) (they also may contradict eachother as i have multiple different ideas for what may happen)

Just realised i accidently became the very thing i hated, and called something an ‘analysis’ while most of it is just going over the plot, please take this as a token of apology

1. The vampire universe.

Based on the images we get and the order they come in for the trailer, my guess is that when Simon and the gang arrive in vamp world they get jumped by a group of vampires. Based on the fact we seem to see them in a different place later without any convinient new travel companions it’s likely they make it out without help.

I have 2 ideas for the canon that we see pointed at Simon Fionna and Cake (SFC since i’m too lazy to keep typing all that)

- The canon is manned by a vampire and shoots out either more vamps or maybe even marceline herself. The image we see of her zooming through the air she’s in a very ‘aerodynamic’ pose, with her arms right to her sides and knees entirely unbent, the same pose one would be in if they’d just been shot out of a canon, while the other vampires are very spread out, looking more like cats when they lunge at their prey. This would also explain Simons shock and concern compared to F&C’s more tame ‘oh there’s a canon now’ type look. It would be pretty shocking to see basically your daughter about to be shot out of a canon, directly towards you.

- The canon actually shoots out the garlic bombs we see go off later. This theory also means i’ts likely manned by (probably) Huntress wizard we see later (presumably) shooting at either SFC or the vampires. I think she likely does this because she’s never seen these people before and assumes their either vampires, or just some other threat. This still explains simons shock (sort of) as it’s not everyday you see a garlic bomb canon, and he’s smart enough to realise that probably means their mistaken for a vamp, while fionna and cake have never seen a garlic bomb before and would just be confused.

If if is marcilene coming out of there, that probably won’t go over well when she realises that it’s simon she’s being shot at. We don’t see her simon in the trailer or intro yet, but based on the fact that she’s likely evil here, it’s safe to assume he’s no longer around to teach her proper morals and such. Whether he died, left her, or something else happened, we don’t know yet. But based on which of these 3 happened she’ll have a very different reaction to see simon now. It’s also possible that the crown just made him crazy way earlier, meaning he didn’t have as much time to like, ensure she doesn’t go evil by teacher her stuff like ‘vandalism is bad’ n stuff. If that is true, i think her hearing that there’s a simon out there who isn’t corrupted by the crown but is activly trying to be would royally piss her off.

We only really get shots of (probably) the middle/start of the episode, so there isn’t many clues to the ending but i have a few ideas. (Hopefully) seeing marcy again and likely getting reminded of how the crown hurt her before, would at the very least begin planting the seeds of doubt in Simon’s mind about the crown and if he won’t give it up for himself, he’ll consider giving it up to avoid hurting his friends n family back in ooo. Overall i’m super excited for that episode and the more in-depth look into simon and marcy’s relationship it’ll hopefully give.

2. Weird desert world thing!

Starting off we know this is set post-vampire world because the entire time Fionna is wearing this new green jacket (that honestly reminds me of Magic-woman-betty’s jacket but could just be a coincidence) that she doesn’t have in vamp world.

We get quite a few less shots of this episode sadly, so there’s less to work with, but i do have some thoughts,

Every single image we have in this desert place only has either Fionna, Cake, or BMO. Absolutely no Simon. leading me to believe somethings happened either to him or all 3 of them causing them to be seperated. What? I’m not sure, it’s possible he was captured by the scarab which would by an interesting route to go and (if people are correct about her being scarab’s boss) coukd even lead into Golbetty apearing, or there could just be a mix up and someone in the workd kidnapped him or smth. Either way it looks like he’s MIA for now.

BMO seems to be super importsnt this episode, getting a sort of dramatic-ish reveal but more importantly she has Ice kings secret tapes, and seems to be playing them for F&C. F&C seeing the tapes would no doubt change their perception of both Simon and Ice king, hopefuloy having them realise just how horrible possesing the crown was, but also seeing how Ice king wasn’t actually a fun guy who wrote silly little books but someone who was incredibly sad and lonely. This new perception of the two would hopefully lead them into no longer wanting ice king to put on the crown, and instead trying to find a different way to save their world.

It could also show to fionna that magic and adventures aren’t as fun as they first seem, and maybe push her into accepting her ‘mundane’ and ‘boring’ world as a place she actually does love and enjoy and is okay living in.

3. Simon & Betty (flashback)

we only get 4 images of this and they paint a relatively small picture about what actually happens but they paint one nonetheless

Based of these 4 images, it looks as though Simon and Betty are on a date of sorts. Simon also runs to Betty before she catches the bus to the airport for her trip. The date could happen before or after she doesn’t board the bus, but i think it’s after, not only because it’s a dark photo but i just don’t see how it would fit (narrativly) if it happened first. Basically it seem to be a flashback to the day simon and betty first met, fairly simple.

While i can’t come up with any more then that for the flashback, i do think it’s either something we see right before golbetty, or even during golbetty. possibly like a ‘remeber when we first met, and blah blah blah’ type thing to try and get betty to remember being betty (if she doesn’t in her golb form)

That’s all i can think of, i would add a golb section because of all the forshadowing we get but the foreshadowing isn’t enough to tell me what actually happens with golb so i left that out.

I’ll either look really smart or really stupid once fhe next episodes come out and i can’t wait to find out which

#adventure time #fionna and cake #fionna and cake spoilers #fionna campbell #simon petrikov #betty grof #marceline the vampire queen #just realised i’ve been spelling her name wrong this whole time dear god #media analysis #can’t wait to see the wet cat (simon) be put in more situations

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cuddlepilefics · 8 months

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Staircase PR

Fandom: Ateez

Sickie: Jongho

Caregivers: Ateez

Prompts: 'Hot chocolate' & 'Wearing each other's clothes' @flufftober

No one’s POV.:

When the car door finally shut behind him, Jongho dropped his head into his hands. This wasn’t how he had imagined his afternoon going. Despite the painkiller he had taken, he could still feel his blood pulsing in his ankle. “Are you going to call them or do you want me to?”, his manager asked, buckling his seat belt. The older had spent the past few hours in the emergency room with Jongho, waiting for the vocalist to have an MRI taken before he could get the appropriate treatment. With Jongho injuring himself during an individual schedule, the rest of the group didn’t know about their maknae’s mishap yet and he didn’t know if he had the energy to break the news. He buckled his seatbelt and tried to relax into his seat, mumbling: “Could you tell them please, hyung? Not sure I can deal with Hongjoong-hyung’s scolding right now” – “You know he means well though, right?”, his manager chuckled. “Yeah, I know.”

Jongho was relieved when he was finally dropped off at his dorm. The hours he had spent sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chair in the emergency room had left him sore and exhausted. At least, his manager had gotten both of them a sandwich at some point during their wait because Jongho would have some difficulty preparing himself a meal right now. He was ready to throw his crutches into a corner to never even look at them again and it had barely been two hours since he got them. The weeks ahead would certainly be interesting.

Feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket, Jongho ignored it and hobbled to his room. He knew the group chat was probably flooding with worried messages from his members but he couldn’t deal with them right now. To try and keep his mind busy, Jongho picked out a fresh set of cloths, so he could hopefully feel a little more comfortable. The others were having dance practice right now if he remembered their schedule correctly and the thought made his chest tighten with anxiety. He would not be dancing at all for the next few weeks, so he already knew he’d have a very hard time to catch up to the rest of the group once he could return to practice. Plopping down on the edge of his bed, Jongho took a deep breath as his head started to spin. How was he going to catch up? He couldn’t miss practice. People already claimed he was only part of the group for his voice and that he had no talent whatsoever when it came to dancing. His hyungs always told him that it wasn’t true, that people just wanted to say what they knew would hurt him but it was hard to drown out the voices when there were so many.

Jongho had needed some time to collect himself before he got changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt. He wanted to try and take good care of himself, so he wouldn’t feel so useless, plus, he really needed to get off his foot for a while as it was already starting to hurt worse again. Knowing he’d be spending a lot of time in his room, he decided to hang out in the living room for the time being and slowly made his way to the kitchen to grab an icepack before he’d get settled on the couch. Jongho elevated his ankle on a cushion before pulling out his phone to finally respond to the messages. As predicted, there were a bunch in their group chat as well as individual chats. Their manager had updated them on what had happened and how long the youngest would have to sit out on dancing. He’d still take his vocal lessons and attend interviews with them, maybe even one or two fansign events but dancing was a clear no.

Not wanting to distract them from their practice too much, Jongho only replied to the group chat, lying that he wasn’t in any pain and would just need to stay off his ankle for a while. Since Jongho was very self-sufficient and mature despite being the youngest, they believed him when he said despite wearing a brace, he could take care of himself on crutches and had everything he needed. That wasn’t a complete lie. He could take care of himself. Soon he had to realize that he didn’t have everything he needed. With the icepack on his brace, Jongho soon started to feel a little cold. Maybe he shouldn’t have chosen to wear a t-shirt in October but his mind also hadn’t been with it when he had picked out his clothes. It didn’t take long for goosebumps to spread down his arms but he skillfully ignored them, turning on the TV to distract himself.

After a while, the shivers running down Jongho’s spine became harder to ignore and he reached for the back of the couch to grab the blanket they usually kept there, only to be reminded how they had to throw it in the wash the previous night because Wooyoung had spilled soda on it. Dropping his head, Jongho cursed his fellow maknae for his clumsiness, which now left him to freeze. Technically, Jongho could hobble back to his room, throw his blanket over his shoulder and then go back to the bedroom but it sounded far too complicated. If he was to go back to his room, he’d stay there, so he just resigned himself to being cold.

Jongho startled when the front door opened. He had lost track of time a little and also hadn’t expected for his dormmates to come back home immediately after practice. Hongjoong would usually spend a few more hours at the studio, while Wooyoung either practiced more or hang out with some of the other members, so for them to be home this early was almost unheard of. When he heard the noise from the hallway, everything made sense though. Only his group could be this loud. Forcing a smile, Jongho turned off the TV and sat up straighter to greet the members. Hongjoong called out a greeting before him and Yunho carried the pizza boxes to the kitchen, trying to coordinate dinner for everyone. Seonghwa was the first to make his way over to Jongho. “Are you okay?”, the oldest asked, brows furrowed in concern. Giving his hyung a smile, Jongho nodded. Wooyoung was quick to hug the younger from the side, insisting he should stay put with his ankle propped up. Ruffling the boy’s hair, Wooyoung teased: “What are you doing? Can’t you walk down a flight of stairs?” – “I sure can”, Jongho retorted, “Pretty sure I put up a new PR. I’ve never gotten down that fast before.”

He earned a few chuckles and headpats and although he usually wasn’t that found of people clinging to him, Wooyoung was warm and eased the chills a little. When Seonghwa disappeared to the kitchen, he took the icepack with him and Yeosang quietly sat down on Jongho’s other side, that wasn’t occupied by Wooyoung. He gave the youngest a soft smile and asked: “Does it hurt a lot?” – “It’s okay, doesn’t hurt much”, Jongho denied, lightly shaking his head, “I got some painkillers at the hospital and will have another dose after dinner.” – “Are you cold?”, Wooyoung frowned, running his hand up the younger’s arm, “Your skin is really cold and you have goosebumps.” – “Yeah, why would you wear a t-shirt in October?”, Yeosang realized, pressing the backs of his fingers against his dongsaeng’s arm. Knowing his way around their dorm best, Wooyoung got up and announced: “I’ll fetch you a hoodie.” Before he could get very far though, Mingi had already taken off his sweater and handed it to Jongho.

By the time Yunho and San started bringing plates with pizza to the living room, Jongho was cozily bundled in Mingi’s sweater, the sleeves pulled over his hands. He was surprisingly glad that all of the members had come over, their usual chaos doing a great job at distracting him from the pain and the teasing lifted his mood. Plus, they had gotten one of his favorite foods for him. Yeosang remained by his side for the rest of the evening and rubbed his arm for warmth when Seonghwa placed a fresh icepack on his injury, causing him to shudder. Since most of them had a rather early schedule the next day, they split up after dinner but Mingi insisted Jongho should keep his sweater for the time being.

As Jongho was slowly getting tired, he wasn’t too sad that their dorm was growing quiet with the members leaving, though he did miss Yeosang’s calm presence next to him. Hongjoong made sure the maknae had a bottle of water on his nightstand and that his phone was charging right next to the bed, so he’d be able to text them for help should he need any. When the three bid each other goodnight, the hint of sadness in Jongho’s voice didn’t go unnoticed by Wooyoung and he sympathetically watched his dongsaeng hobble to his room. He could only hope the younger wouldn’t be too hard on himself as he usually tended to be.

When Wooyoung had to use the bathroom later that night, he walked past Jongho’s room and paused for a moment. His heart clenched when he realized that what he was hearing were muffled sobs. Jongho wasn’t one to cry easily, so after doing his business, Wooyoung softly knocked on the maknae’s bedroom door and joined his dongsaeng on his bed. “What’s up?”, the dancer asked quietly, “You should’ve gone to sleep a long time ago.” Wiping his eyes, Jongho sniffled: “I can’t believe I hurt myself again. This is going to throw me back so much, like, the amount of practice I’m going to miss. There’s no way I’ll be able to catch up and not make a complete fool of myself the next time I’m performing.” – “What are you saying?”, Wooyoung frowned, “You’ve always managed to catch up, no matter how far an injury has thrown you back. Sure, it’s not ideal but I know you can do it.” Unsure of how to comfort the younger, Wooyoung opened his arms for a hug. Leaning into the dancer’s chest, Jongho closed his eyes and followed back tears. “Is that thing still cold”, Wooyoung asked softly, nodding towards the icepack. Hesitantly, Jongho shook his head. He had meant to grab another one a while ago but hadn’t found the motivation to get up yet. Promising to be right back, Wooyoung headed to the kitchen to get the vocalist a fresh one.

While Wooyoung rummaged through the freezer, Hongjoong joined him in the kitchen. Leaning against the counter, the leader yawned: “What’re you doing up?” – “Grabbing Jongho a fresh icepack. Found him crying when I went to the bathroom”, the younger replied, shutting the freezer door, “He’s upset. Like, the anxiety-inducing type of upset. Worrying he won’t be able to catch up after missing practice.” – “Well, shit”, Hongjoong sighed, “You already gave him a pep talk?” – “Um, not really?”, Wooyoung hummed, chewing on his lip, “Why don’t you go and bring him this, hyung? Then you can talk to him and I’ll join you two with some hot chocolate in a couple minutes.” Accepting the ice pack, Hongjoong nodded and made his way to Jongho’s room. His dongsaeng was always so hard on himself even over things that were out of his control.

By the time Wooyoung joined them with three steaming cups of hot chocolate, Jongho had calmed down. His eyes were still a little puffy but it seemed Hongjoong had gotten through to him and convinced him that his injury was nothing that they couldn’t work around like they had done on previous occasions. The maknae had also gotten a light scolding for paying hateful comments too much mind because they weren’t meant to help him improve but rather bring him down. Handing Jongho his drink, Wooyoung offered: “Do you wanna watch a drama to take your mind off of things? Maybe you’ll be able to fall asleep while watching….” The maknae nodded gratefully and even smiled a little when Hongjoong announced he’d be sticking around too.

#fanfic #fluff #comfort #fanfiction #sickfic #ateez #atiny #flufftober 2023

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