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#I'll do it someday I'll make that content i swear

rin-fukuroi · 5 months

Text

𝐓𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 [𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐚𝐧]

Please do not translate or publish my works without my permission.

The originals of my works can be read here

Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail

Pairings: Jing Yuan x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, oral sex, pussy drunk, fingering.

Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq

I think this man is rlly capable of sucking his beloved dry, can I say this? And I doubt that anyone will mind.

Jing Yuan is truly insatiable when it comes to you. Your smell, your taste is his addiction, which he will never get rid of. His big palms will constantly rest on your sides, no matter what you do, while his face will brazenly stick into the curve of your neck, tickling your sensitive skin with disheveled hair. The General will greedily inhale your body odor, spreading a childish, satisfied smile on your shoulder, completely not caring that he might interfere with you.

No matter how you squirm and swear, his firm grip will never let you move, insistently pressing your back against his chest while his curious fingers slide along the curve of your hips. The soft fabric of his huge shirt, which he kindly allowed you to wear at home, will roll into an accordion on your belt while his fingers squeeze, massage and feel the soft flesh of your belly and plush sides.

And today is no exception. You really tried to convey to the stubborn General that if he continues to interfere with you, then cooking dinner will fall into his inept hands.

— Honey, what are you saying? You know I'm a complete zero at cooking.

He grins velvety into your neck, showering wet kisses on the soft skin, enjoying your irritated grunt while you desperately try not to hurt yourself by chopping vegetables.

And all this always precedes what is happening now.

Your hips are spread wide on either side of Jing Yuan's head, comfortably ensconced under you on your bed, smirking now into the soft flesh of your crotch, reveling in your displeasure as you irritably press your hips into his face.

— Honestly, Jing Yuan… Someday I'll strangle you in this way for your disobedience.

— It will be a glorious death, my dear.

His chest shudders with deep laughter, then slowly heaves as you feel his hot breath on your sensitive skin. A slippery, warm, skillful tongue slowly slides between your folds while strong fingers press firmly into your hips. You placed your hands comfortably on his head, running your fingers through the soft gray curls, squeezing and unclenching the shock of hair whenever his tongue teasingly touches the trembling clitoris. You hiss, writhing, sitting on his face as his tongue makes an excruciatingly languid and slow path from your shrinking entrance back to your clitoris, around which the sharp tip now circles, making you tremble and emit incoherent moans, sobs and curses under your breath.

If only you really realized how delightful the sounds coming from your lips are to Jing Yuan. His lips hungrily close around the soft flesh while his tongue wriggles and draws small circles around your sensitive lump.

Having had enough fun with the way you fidgeted impatiently on his face, one of his palms descends from your hips to allow his fingers to penetrate inside. Your nails scratch the skin of the General's head when he pretends to mumble with displeasure, sending pleasant vibrations through your body. The squelching sounds of your moisture and obscene smacking filled the silence in the bedroom as you unknowingly began to sway towards his delicious tongue and fingers, causing the poor but contented General to suffocate under the weight of your body.

He felt your walls clench so sweetly around his fingers, exulting at the thought that you were so close to your orgasm, although only recently, in the kitchen, you tried so sweetly to push him away. This game amuses the cunning General so much every time, encouraging him to do it over and over again, and although you pretended to be touchy every time, in fact, you never minded.

The salty-sweet taste of your arousal, in truth, more than satisfied Jing Yuan as an ideal substitute for even the most delicious dinner that you could cook if you weren't writhing, screaming, and cumming on his face right now.

— I could do this all day, darling, — the smug General purrs maliciously, leaving a soft, gentle kiss on the sensitive skin of the inside of your thigh. And if his strategic advantage was often flattering speeches, which were not always true, said only to distract the opponent's attention, now he was more than honest in his sugary compliments.

#headcanons #hsr #hsr x reader #honkai:star rail #honkai:star rail x reader #jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #hsr x you #hsr drabbles #jing yuan smut #hsr smut

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bredstick · 10 months

Note

I love Gojo x male reader. There should be more :( I’m tired of all those gn reader fics that turn out to be female reader…

Gojo Satoru x male reader

SO TRUE!! I keep seeing them and it always dissapoints me so so much:(. Anyway, here's a little something for my male reader gojo lovers out there ;)

Gojo realises you're overworked

There's always been some work for you to do in your minimum wage job, but recently it became too much to handle. Paper work, people making fun of you and bringing even more work to your desk... it was all too much, really.

Gojo hasn't been home in a while because of a trip with his students for some kind of "training trip" or whatever he was blabbering about... it made you curious though. Why go so far away for a simple training week?

Opening your eyes, you realize you dozed off at your desk at work, mumbling curses under your breath- today Gojo was coming home-- or well,, came home already. He must be worried about you. Reaching out for your phone next to all the paperwork, you quickly check it in panic. No phonecalls whatsoever. It was almost midnight.

You worry even more- did you upset him?? Or did his travel back to you get delayed?? You were confused. Checking the texts he sent and confirming that today was the day he'd get home, you take your things and quickly hurry home, almost jogging your way down the streets.

Fumbling your keys, you try to open the door, but you realize it's already open- this made you susspicious, since you always double check if your door is locked. Silently stepping inside the house and making a mini weapon with your keys and forming a fist, you look around.. nothing out of the ord-

""HELLOOOO HANDSOME!! YOUR DEAR HUSBAND IS BACCKK- OUGHMHMHDK""

You punch his gut from the surprise, regretting it instantly,, "OH SHIT I'M SO SORRY I DIDN'T KNOW IT WAS YOU WHY DID YOU LEAVE IT OPEN YOU DUMB PIECE OF SHIT" complaining loudly with the embarrassment visible on your face, Gojo laughs at you. Laughs straight in your face, as he isn't phased about the punch at all.

"Do I need to remind you that I have infinity on?" he says, smug look on his face. He pranked you.

I swear I'll wipe that little smug of your face someday when I catch you offguard punk!! You say in your mind, while you croutch down with your face beetroot red, ready to die in a hole. "I'll save you the embarrassment and move on. How are you? How was your day? What did you do?" He smiles, finally looking fully at your face. Your eyebags were so so visible, your hair wasn't kept neat like he remembered, and you just looked,, unhappy. He didn't like it one bit.

"You know what... let's not talk about our days right now. You look exhausted dear.. let's get my boy to bed, okay?" he says, his voice softer and more tender. You look up at him, shocked on how well he read your desires you didn't even have time to tell. You stood up and just nodded, not saying a word-there's no words neccesary anyway.

He hugs you- genuinely and tightly, warmth embracing your body. You forgot how it felt really.

You noticed you shed a tear, one singular tear, forgetting how you actually missed his touch, his soft spoken words. Work has surrounded you in a tight grip, making you focus on just that, nothing more.

You smiled in content, and he picked you up by your thighs, slowly walking to the bedroom you two share.

He helped you dress up in your bed clothes, and helped you with your hygene routine- he kept yapping about "not taking care of yourself" and "you need to be good to myself or he'll ground me". You weren't even listening, the only thing in your mind was how you can't wait to have someone by your side again.

Your husband, your one and only, Gojo Satoru.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Thank you for reading this!!! If you want more, please specify what to write about with the certain character(s) :))) if anyone has any recommendations, please tell me! I'm new to this after all.

#gojo satoru x male reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #jjk x male reader #jjk gojo #male reader #jujutsu kaisen

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sorrowsofsilence · 4 months

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Burning Out • Teaser

I was lost, but now I'm found Under the lights and in the sounds So let us sing and sing it loud That we're not perfect, but we're proud of who we are

Noah Sebastian is lost. His crime-filled lifestyle is anything but perfect; but everything changes once he meets you.

Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader

General Warnings: explicit content, smut 18+, mentions of drugs, alcohol, murder, other forms of crime, violence.

Authors note: hiiii. This story was requested by an anon a while back and I have decided to try and give it a shot (Prompt given was: Noah and the boys have a tough life and steal to make it by, and live in a motel room together. Meets reader and ends up breaking into her house unknowing.) I hope this vibes with what you wanted! <3 I have no idea how many chapters this will be, im just kinda gonna go with the flow!

Here’s the beginning of the chapter, just to see if anyone’s interested :3

NOAH

The world was always in a state of grey, the life of the concrete jungle persistently sucking out the souls of its inhabitants with every passing second. Destruction. Crime. Greed. A shattering abyss of capitalism and corruption.

Yet, within this life time, I don’t think I was meant to be the good guy either.

Perhaps there was a chance for me, someday or somehow within another universe.

For now, the only thing I could think about was how my heart pounded as the gun sat between my fingers, threatening the innocent ahead. Destruction, Crime, Greed.

“Noah, let’s go,” Ruffilo pulled at my wrist in desperation. My arm remained still, resisting against his force.

The woman’s eyes watched me in horror, tears brimming as her back hit the brick wall behind her, arms wrapping protectively around her body in defeat.

My heart rapidly raced, but I remained still.

“I won’t say anything I swear,” She pleaded, lips trembling, saliva foaming from her mouth as she was too afraid to swallow.

I don’t want to do this, but I fucked up.

“Noah,” Ruffilo said through gritted teeth, “We need to go,” he placed a hand on top of my gloved one, in another attempt to have me lower the bad decision.

I closed my eyes, squeezing them shut in contemplation as my chest heaved, the voice of rationality fighting against the voice of destruction.

I’ll be even more of a fuck up if she rats on us.

You’ve never been able to kill anyone before you moron, why do you think this time will be any different?

My eyes snapped open, leatherd finger dancing along the trigger as I stared at her. My teeth barred through chapped lips, a snarl of frustration crawling from my throat. The woman's eyes turned away in fear as if watching her own demise would kill her. Ironic.

Seeing her in complete terror left me broken. Is who I am? I am nothing more.

The next thirty seconds passed as though I was walking through molasses, my thoughts battling contradictions before I audibly screamed in frustration, shoving the gun back into my pocket as Nicholas and I ran towards the van.

“Fuck!” I yelled, slamming the car door a forceful as possible. The tires squealed in place, burning out as Jolly’s foot pounded onto the gas pedal.

I ripped off my ski mask, throwing it angrily onto the floor of the vehicle.

“You should’ve just left her Noah. Now if they find us we could be charged with assault with a weapon.” The deep Swedish accent was the last thing I wanted to hear. He eyed me sternly in the rear view mirror. I lingered on his gaze for a moment before turning my head towards the window.

“Oh Fuck off Jolly,” I sighed angrily, closing my eyes as my breathing quickened, the anxiety beginning to set in. The pounding of my heart began to vibrate along my entire chest, and my leg bounced in anticipation, waiting for the panic to subside.

I kept justifying to myself that we’re all dead anyway, so what’s the difference between a God and a loaded gun?

+++++

I'll leave the prompt given below. Chapter one will be out later tn <3

“BUT what about a Noah fic where him and the boys grew up with a hard life, but they always stuck together. Growing up they got into a lot of trouble, and they are still struggling. So they all live in a little motel room together. Then one day Noah runs into reader, and she’s new to LA and she also grew up with a bad background but she got away from it and worked her ass off to get a nice little house in LA. So they talk for a bit and get along with each other, they swap numbers and stuff. Then one night it’s noah get money for him and the boys. So he decides to break into a house and just steal some stuff so he can sell it for money. BUT he ends up breaking into readers house by accident, and she catches him. She hurt and scared at first, but then she starts kind of sympathizing for him. He is apologizing profusely to her telling her he didn’t know it was her house, and basically they have a conversation about Noah’s life with the boys, and why he does what he does. And basically they end up falling for each other, and after a while reader realizes how lonely she is living in her house alone in LA with no friends. So she tells noah that him and the boys should move in with her, and she would help them find jobs and stuff. Eventually they agree, and then after they move in she notices how much they love music and that the two nicks both have old acoustic guitars that they occasionally play while Noah songs along. She works at a bar and then ends up getting them a gig at her work, and then after they play there a few times they start blowing up on the internet and getting popular, then eventually they get huge and go on tour. When they become famous they all convince reader to go on tour with them so they can start taking care of her like she did them when they needed it the most.”

#bad omens #noah sebastian #bad omens cult #bad omens band #noah sebastian davis #nick ruffilo #nicholas ruffilo #bad omens smut #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian x reader #joakim jolly karlsson #nick folio #jolly karlsson #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfiction

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theewokingdead · 11 months

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Morning Sickness - Din Djarin x f!Reader (Another Way Universe)

Pairing: Din Djarin/The Mandalorian x f!Reader (Another Way Universe) Summary: Din learns some things about pregnancy while helping you through a bout of morning sickness. Word Count: 800+ Rating: No rating, blog is 18+. Content: Nausea/vomiting. Pregnancy. Tooth-rotting fluff. The usual teasing/banter. A/N: I found some stuff that I had written but didn't make the final cut when writing the main story. This takes place in the middle of Chapter 8 of "Another Way" but it can be read on its own. I miss writing for these two. I'll get to the epilogue eventually, I swear, so don't yell at me @pedropascalsx

Masterlist

Eyes fluttering open, you wake to find Din gone. Intent on finding him, you swing your legs over the edge of the bed. The second you sit up, your head starts to spin. Your stomach turns over, and it feels as though the contents of your last meal are now fighting their way back up through your throat. Taking steady breaths, you pray it will subside soon.

Mouth filling with saliva, and the taste of bile rising from the back of your throat, you know it's past the point of no return.

You stumble out of bed, barely able to keep your balance as you make your way to the bathroom. Your stomach convulses and you heave, emptying the contents of your stomach into the toilet. The retching is violent, and you feel like you're going to cough up your insides. Finally, the spasms subside, and you slump against the cool porcelain of the bowl, panting heavily.

You hear a rustling behind you, and you turn your head to see Din standing in the doorway, concern etched on his face.

"Are you okay?" he asks, crossing the room to kneel beside you.

You shake your head, unable to speak, and he rubs soothing circles on your back as you try to catch your breath. After a moment, you manage to sit up, and he hands you a damp washcloth to wipe your mouth.

"I'm sorry," you mutter, feeling embarrassed and weak.

Din shakes his head. "If anyone should be sorry it's me. I did this to you."

“Pretty sure we played an equal part in it.” You offer him a weak smile, which he returns. “I just hope this doesn’t last much longer.”

“Me too. Not sure I can stand to see you sick for another year or so.”

“Another year or so?” you repeat, your eyebrows screwed in confusion as you look at him. “What do you mean? We only have seven more months before the baby comes - if that.”

“What?” Din immediately question, his voice filled with shock and confusion.

“What do you mean ‘what?’ Pregnancy only lasts 40 weeks.”

“What?” he repeats.

You can’t help but laugh. “Haven’t you been around pregnant women, Din?”

“Yes, but I’ve never had a reason to care about the length of their, uh…”

“Gestation?” you question.

“Yeah. I just assumed it’s a long time, like banthas.”

“Wait a minute. You’re telling me you know the gestational period of a bantha, but not a human being?” you question, laughing. “Maker, Din. You never cease to surprise me. I mean, fuck, do I like a seven-foot-tall hairy beast that will someday drop a hundred-pound newborn?”

Din chuckles, his expression softening as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. "No, you're much more beautiful than a bantha," he says, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You lean into him, grateful for his love and support. “Good answer.”

“You think the little tadpole will let you get up?”

“Little tadpole?” you question.

“Better than bantha. Or ‘parasite’ as you so lovingly refer to our child.”

With a smirk, you reply, “Ah, is it because Gungans are born as tadpoles?”

Din sighs. “I set myself up for that, didn’t I?”

“You did.” You stand up, using the sink for support. “I just hope that doesn’t mean I have to give birth in a bog.”

Din chuckles, standing alongside you. “I'll make sure to find the most comfortable place for you to give birth, even if it means taking down an entire empire to do it."

You roll your eyes but can't help the fond smile that tugs at your lips. "You know, for a guy who claims he's not romantic, you sure do know how to make a girl feel special."

He stands up, towering over you, and leans in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "You are special, and I'll do anything to make sure you and our tadpole are safe and happy."

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a deeper kiss, feeling a warmth spread through your body. In this moment, you forget the nausea and the discomfort, and all you can think about is how lucky you are to have this man by your side.

As he pulls away, he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear and gives you a mischievous grin. “And who knows, maybe giving birth in a bog will be a new experience for us. We can add it to our list of adventures.”

You laugh and shake your head. "I think I'll pass on that one, thank you very much."

Din pulls you in for another kiss, his hands sliding down to rest on your waist. You feel a familiar heat building between your legs, and you can tell he's feeling it too. “Maybe we should continue this in the bedroom," he suggests, his voice low and husky.

You nod, a flush spreading across your cheeks. “Lead the way, Mando.”

As he takes your hand and leads you back to bed, you can't help but feel grateful for this man, for this life you've created together, for the little tadpole growing inside of you. You know there will be more challenges ahead, more moments of discomfort and fear, but as long as you have Din by your side, you know you can do anything.

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction #the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian fandom #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #pedrostories #another way #catie writes

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melodymay-k1tty · 8 months

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MASTERLIST: SCENARIOS & FANFICS (ONE PIECE VER.)

CATEGORIES

Fem!Reader Short/Longfics 🪼

Fem!Reader One-Shots 🪼

Character x Character 🪼

Bf Headcanons 🪼

Caesar Clown♡

Charlotte Katakuri♡

Donquixote Doflamingo♡ (coming soon)

Donquixote Rosinante♡

Enel♡

Monkey D. Luffy♡

Portgas D. Ace part. 1 ♡ / Portgas D. Ace part. 2 ♡

Roronoa Zoro♡

Trafalgar Law♡

Vinsmoke Ichiji♡

Vinsmoke Niji♡

Vinsmoke Sanji♡

Vinsmoke Yonji♡

RULES

1. I don't usually accept requests, because I can only write if I have my own inspiration. So, DON'T rush me or keep demanding something from me (please, I lovely kindly ask). But my question box is open for any ideas.

2. Please don't ask me for disgusting themed stories. I do NSFW, but as long as it doesn't involve some gross stuff I don't even need to talk about (I'm not talking about NCS or anything like that, but about really gross stuff).

3. Don't get your hopes up on character x character stories written by me. If there are any, they will be rare exceptions, as I'm generally not a big fan of this type of writing (except in some VERY specific cases). And I can probably only write that kind with Nico Robin.

4. I can't write (which includes mostly NSFW) about these characters: Franky, Brook, Jinbe, Tony Tony Chopper, Trebol, Señor Pink, Buffalo, Shiryu, and countless other characters, most of which in this extensive list include a few minor characters or extras.

5. Definitely NOT (for now): Franky, Brook, Jinbe, Tony Tony Chopper, Trebol, Señor Pink, Buffalo, Shiryu, Machvise, Lucky Roux, etc...

6. I kindly ask you not to ask me for fanfics Frobin (Franky + Robin) or Jinbin (Jinbe + Robin), I just hate those two ships, but I respect your opinion if you like it. Anyway, I will forever be Zorobin (Zoro + Robin) and Lawbin (Law + Robin), and I can write about them with great pleasure.

DO NOT ask me for!

1. As I already mentioned, stories involving disgusting stuff.

2. Stories involving incest, necrophilia, cannibalism, cruelty to animals, and other terrible things like that. Please don't ask me for this!

3. Stories with racist, bigoted, homophobic, xenophobic themes, these terrible things...

4. OOC characters and stories set in the real world. I just manage to write just for the OP world. Of course, I can open exceptions from time to time, but I don't guarantee anything.

5. Fanfics with male!reader or gn!reader (okay, maybe someday I might try it?! but for now it doesn't work, and it's simply bcs I can't write for that type).

6. Stories for non-binary people (I'm sorry, I'm serious, I just can't write for non-binary people). I swear I already tried it, but it was just awful. So, for now, that's my decision.

7. Character x Character stories (I've only managed one so far, with Nico Robin — and she's just the only one I've felt good doing it with).

8. Fanfics with LGBTQIA+ themes (I'm really sorry, but I can't. Especially those involving characters like Zoro, Law, Doflamingo, Rosinante, Eustass Kid, etc... It just doesn't come out of there). But I can do things like that between women (orange/lesbians).

WHAT CAN I DO?

1. Yes, I can mix races and write reader with fishmen, minks or something else.

2. NSFW content (I definitely can and want to, once I have good development in the stories of course).

3. I can also do size kink, I just don't make it if that will be with characters like Whitebeard, Kaido, Blackbeard, Bartholomew Kuma and others like them...

WARNINGS

1. English IS NOT my first language and I'm not fluent in it. Therefore, I write the stories in my native language, and then I translate them with the help of Google Translate. Any spelling errors should be explained by this.

2. My blog is NOT FREE from spoilers, +18 content, dark content and things that might make you feel a little uncomfortable maybe (like angst, NCS, etc...).

3. This blog is focused on One Piece, but I still don't know if I'll gather all my stories from different animes and doramas here, or if I'll create a secondary blog for that.

Now, I'm going to create a “list” of characters and the appropriate colors inserted will define whether or not I can write about them.

Color Green — I definitely CAN write about this character.

Color Red — I definitely CANNOT write about this character. At least not these days.

Color Orange — Maybe I can and maybe I can't write about this character. And it is very likely that there will be regulations for this.

Color Purple — These are my favorites characters to write about.

Color Pink — Just Fluffy.

Color Blue — I can definitely write about this character. But there will be PROBABLY little or no fluffy/romance and it will likely be +18 Only.

Akainu. Alvida. Aokiji. Arlong. Bartholomew Kuma. Bartolomeo. Bellamy. Boa Hancock. Brook. Buggy. Caesar Clown. Capone Bege. Camie. Carrot. Cavendish. Crocodile. Diamante. Donquixote Doflamingo. Donquixote Rosinante “Corazon”. Dracule Mihawk. Enel. Franky. Hody Jones. Inuarashi. Izo. Jewelry Bonney. Jinbe. Kikunojo. Kizaru. Koala. Marco. Marshall D. Teach “Blackbeard”. Monkey D. Dragon. Monkey D. Luffy. Nami. Nekomamushi. Nico Robin. Nojiko. Paulie. Pedro. Perona. Portgas D. Ace. Rebecca. Rob Lucci. Roronoa Zoro. Sabo. Shanks. Shirahoshi. Silvers Rayleigh. Smoker. Tashigi. Tony Tony Chopper. Trafalgar D. Water Law. Tsuru (Young Prime). Usopp. Vinsmoke Ichiji. Vinsmoke Niji. Vinsmoke Reiju. Vinsmoke Sanji. Vinsmoke Yonji. Viola. Wadatsumi. Yamato. Zeff.

Where can you find me?

Ao3

Discord

DISQUS

Quotev

Social Spirit

Tumblr

Twitter

Wattpad

#one piece #anime #masterlist #one piece scenarios #fanfic

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heeracha · 1 year

Text

ep 49. / ep 50. — the one where everything's okay. / ep 51.

end of the line. — p. jongseong

synopsis: thinking it was a hotline for people who just need someone to talk to, jay calls. but why did a clueless student answer? with jay’s phone call has a time limit, you, the clueless student, insists on staying with him until the end of the line.

pairing: jay x f!reader

content/genre: college au (wow shocking), slowburn, fluff, angst and crack, smau.

warning(s): friends teasing friends, yk affectionate teasing, swearing, tell me if i missed something !! ,,,,, kissing :*

note: here's the playlist <3 two more parts and we're done AHFSBDHFSBA i'll cry on the last chap <3 HAHSDHFAHKA

it was the weekend, thank god

you were basically free to do anything since you finished your tasks… in hopes to forget about jay. failed horribly, may i add. but that’s fine, right? it’s jay, anyway.

like he said the previous night, he will call. you two decided to meet up for real this time and to avoid any confusion, jay decided he will wait for you in your dorm’s lobby. so, there he was, sitting on the couch, looking back at you. you go to him and he stands up, looking at you and you force a smile which he returns.

wordlessly, you two went around to walk around and even eat—which he didn’t let you pay.

now, it’s nearing night and you two are just in an empty park sitting on a bench. you knew jay was waiting for you to speak up, but you didn’t know how to start off. after probably thirty minutes, you decided to do something. so you turn to him and he looks at you, turning to you as well. you wrap your arms around his waist, resting your nose against his cheek and closing your eyes. jay wraps his arms around you, one hand on the back of your head.

“i’m sorry,” he mumbles and you shake your head.

“i understand—”

“but it doesn’t make it right,” jay says. “i should have told you right away, i’m really sorry.”

“i forgave you a long time ago, it’s okay.” you softly say and jay chuckles. “i’m sorry for confusing you with first and fourth.”

jay laughs and you tighten your hug on him. “we’re okay?” he asks and you nod.

“of course,” you say.

“i’m sorry for rejecting you, too.” jay says. “i’m sorry for everything.”

“we’re okay, jongseong. we’re okay.” you assure him and he smiles, kissing your cheek. “i’m sorry for taking so long, though. how did you manage to wait for a long time?”

jay shakes his head. “because i know you’re worth it.” he says and you smile. “you will always be worth it, my love.” you softly hit him on the shoulder and he laughs. “ow!”

“i told myself earlier i wouldn’t cry anymore because we’ll be okay.” you softly say, voice lightly breaking. jay pulls away, placing his hands on the curves of your neck.

“cry all you want,” he softly says. “i promise, i will always be here to kiss your tears away, okay?”

you smile and jay leans in, kissing the tears that fell. “i really thought our talk is going to be long, but i remembered i already gave you a letter explaining it.” he says and you hum.

“i read it every night.” you mumble. “i just miss you so much. i can’t believe we lost those months.”

“i believe it will make us stronger.” jay says and you smile. “that is if… i’m still your cute guy?”

you chuckle, taking his hand and kissing his knuckles. “you will always be my cute guy.” you softly say and jay smiles. “there was always something about you. i admit, i didn’t catch feelings right away when i first saw you, but i always gravitated towards you. whenever you came up to me just to smile, i never thought you were weird. all i know is i wanted to see that smile everyday.”

jay chuckles. “i really thought you found it weird,” he softly says.

“hey,” you say and he hums. “you’re better than you think you are, jongseong.”

he smiles.

“i didn’t catch feelings right away either,” he admits. “i just know that you’ll have me wrapped around your fingers someday, and i wasn’t wrong. i love how you don’t have a filter. i love how you don’t care about what others say. i love how you know how to console me when i feel at my lowest. i love you, y/n. even after the line ends, i will always be with you.”

then, you did what you think is right.

you cup his cheeks and press your lips against his. jay holds on your wrists, softly kissing you back. after a few beats, you pull away and rest your forehead against his as he closes his eyes, replying to the moment in his head.

“could you give me a warning next time?” jay asks.

“why? was it awful?” you ask.

“no,” he says. “i just need to ready myself because i can’t believe i’m actually with you now. it’s not a delusion anymore.”

you laugh, kissing him again and he smiles, kissing back. you pull away, kissing his scar on his nose causing him to smile even wider. “so,” you softly say, your thumb wiping his lips to remove your lipstick stain. “how have you been?”

“better now.” he answers. “i actually realized that i can go through anything as long as i have you by my side. when we didn’t talk, it was the shittiest.”

“you know what?” you ask and he hums. “me, too. i’m just glad, we’re okay now. i know that we will surely get through anything.”

jay smiles, nodding as he agrees. “come on,” he says, standing up as he gently holds your hand.

“where we going?” you ask.

“grocery,” he answers, smiling at you. “buy ingredients for cream puffs.”

you squeal. “okay, let’s go!” you exclaim, standing up and jay laughs, pulling your hand up to his lips as he presses a soft kiss on your hand.

everything’s okay.

#enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #enhypen smau #jay imagines #jay scenarios #jay x reader #jongseong imagines

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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: 5.8k

A/N: Thanks for all the love on chapter 1, gang! This one's a real slow burn so I hope you're all in for the ride, haha. Also, I had picked the date Ralph arrived at random based on the general timeline I have for this fic, but it was only when making the fake text screenshots that I realised that the following day may have been a major event in the UK, so I'll leave it up to you to decide whether or not Ralph was responsible for that one lmao.

Also!! Big, beeg love to everyone in the jq server for enabling, encouraging and basically co-writing this whole premise, but especially to @hawkinsbanishedhero whose one-off typo, as featured in this chapter, inspired the absolute monolith this fic has become. <3

You wake up to a shooting pain in your back and an ache down one side. You groan as you stir into consciousness; for years you’ve always been able to pride yourself on the ability to sleep literally anywhere perfectly fine, you’d never understood why your friends always complain about back pains and knee pains when you’re all still relatively young, but now you get it.

You manage to pull yourself to standing and stiffly make your way to the kitchen to make yourself some breakfast. You look over at your closed bedroom door, wondering whether to wake Ralph up before you go to work. You don’t have to be there for opening, at least, but you do hope he’s not one to lay in for too long. Besides, the earlier you can get in to catch up on admin stuff before Head Office complain at you, the better.

As though he could read your thoughts, the door opens and a very sleepy Ralph emerges, rubbing his eyes to adjust them to the sunlit room. It’s positively adorable. “Morning,” you smile at him. “Sleep well?”

“Ah, good morning!” Even through his yawns, his voice remains very prim and proper. “I slept delightfully, apart from the occasional din coming from outside. I only noticed that when I was already awake, though.”

“Yeah, perks of being in South London, police sirens are pretty much 24/7 here. You get used to it,” you shrug, and Ralph looks horrified, ignoring your silent offer to make him a cup of tea.

“So, crime just happens? Everywhere? And it’s all just par for the course?!” he asks in shock. You nod, and he frowns. “I don’t think I want to leave the house.”

“You might need to someday, bud,” you point out, still making him one just in case. “I need to go to work, and you might end up going stir-crazy in here all the while,” you gesture at the four walls of your living-kitchen space.

“Yes, it is rather… Cramped in here,” Ralph comments with an upturned nose, though he takes the cup of tea that you slide over to him happily enough.

“Yeah, well. This is how far £900 a month gets you,” You shrug as you take your first sip, and Ralph chokes on his.

“I beg your pardon?!” he sputters out. “Ni- Nine hundre- How much is that really worth?!”

Nodding silently, you hold a finger up and take your phone out. As seems to be routine whenever you and Ralph learn about the stark differences between your time and his, you take your turn to react, almost choking and spitting out your mouthful. “Nineteen pounds?!”

“Well, that still sounds rather extortionate to me!” Ralph replies with wide eyes.

You walk over to where you had last thrown off your jacket and dig out your purse, taking out a £20 note and handing it to Ralph. “This, right here, would have been enough in your day to pay for this whole flat for a month.”

Again, Ralph scrunches his nose in disgust. “I rather feel as though you’re being swindled.” He holds the money up, turning it over and over in his hands. “Is this what money looks like nowadays?!”

“Yeah! Here,” you empty the monetary contents of your purse out onto the kitchen counter. You explain what each note and coin equate to. “I’ll leave them here in case you need to go to the store and get something. C’mere,” you wave him over to the window, pointing down below to a row of shop fronts at the bottom of another estate of flats. “There, on the corner, that’s a supermarket. It’s like, a greengrocers, a pharmacy and a clothing store, all in one. Then, next to it is the gardening store, my number one money sink.” You gesture to the houseplants that adorn the room.

“You do grow a lot of plants,” Ralph muses, smiling to himself as he gently holds a monstera leaf.

“All legal stuff, I promise,” you laugh. “But, yeah. Landlords don’t allow us to have pets, and so I’ve gotta have something to take care of. Of course, if I’d have known I’d be adopting a man born in the Victorian era, I might not have spent so much…”

Ralph, now more awake, bounces on the balls of his feet. “I-I can take care of them if you would like! Our gardener used to teach me all about how to water plants. It came in handy, being out in the garden sometimes. Much… quieter, out there,” Ralph falters, running the leaves between his fingers.

You place a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, “Wanna talk about it?”

He takes a deep breath in as his shoulder tenses up under your touch. “Oh, no, it’s quite alright, you’ve got enough on your plate as it is!”

“Okay. Well, if you ever want to talk about anything, I’m more than happy to hear you out,” you rub your palm against him in a single circular motion before pulling away. “Don’t feel like you have to bottle things up around me, okay?”

Ralph chuckles, though there’s no amusement in it. “Oh, it’s fine, honestly, I’ve no trouble with bottling things up. Rather, it’s the fact that I don’t that leads to most of my problems!”

“Okay. You know what you’re happy to share, I’m not gonna push you. But don’t make yourself sad unnecessarily, ‘kay?” You hold your little finger out. “Here, I want you to pinky promise me.”

This time, Ralph does crack a smile. “Pinky… Promise?”

“Yeah!” you grin. “Like, you know how usually big decisions are made with a handshake to make them official?” Ralph nods. “Well, little decisions that still require a commitment are usually made with a pinky promise. It’s like a handshake, but only linking your little fingers. So, pinky promise me you’ll always tell me if there’s something I can help you with? This whole mess is scary for both of us. But we’re in it together.” You smile softly at Ralph, and he returns it. In the early morning light, you can see freckles bouncing off of his face. Of course he has freckles.

Ralph sticks out his little finger, too, and you wrap yours around his for a moment before letting go. “That was… Fun,” his ears tinge a slight pink.

“It was!” you grin. “Now, what would you like for breakfast? I’ve got cereal, I could cook you some eggs and bacon. Or, ooh, there’s one more shop I can show you!” You point out the last one in the row. “That’s a bakery. We can go pick up some fresh pastries if you wanted those, too.”

“Whatever is easiest for you,” Ralph insists. You pour him some cereal and milk in a bowl, stick a spoon in it and hand it to him, offering him to join you on the sofa.

“Okay, so while I’m gone, I obviously don’t expect you to sit here twiddling your thumbs until you get back. Now, this thing here, it’s called a television. Sometimes called a telly, sometimes called a TV. This,” you brandish the control at him, “is called a remote, it’s how you control it. You know how you could project films and stuff onto a screen, in your day?” Ralph nods. “This does that without needing a projector. And you can get all sorts of shows and films on there. I wouldn’t recommend you watch the news, just because… Well, you know why,” you pull a face and he nods slowly. “But I’m sure you’ll find something you’ll like, there’s enough out there, that’s for sure.”

“Okay, so the T… V… I can watch people perform on here?” Ralph asks, and you nod. You show him how to flick through channels, and his eyes light up. “Fascinating!”

“And if you want to listen to music, there’s a special speaker, here,” you point to your Amazon Echo. “It has a name, and you can talk to it. So you could say, Alexa, play me some jazz,” you hold your finger up to tell Ralph to wait as the speaker flashes blue.

“Playing songs from playlist Jazz Classics,” the smooth robotic voice tells you, and sure enough, the room fills with the sounds of brass and percussion working in an upbeat harmony.

Ralph absolutely giggles in delight. “Marvellous! What a spectacular creation! And I could ask it to play any sort of music?”

You nod, telling the Echo to stop. “You can even tell it to play music based on what mood you’re in. So, if you need to wallow for a bit, you can have some sad songs to listen to, or if you’re feeling high-energy, you can ask for songs to match that. That should tide you over,” you nod as you take his bowl and yours to the kitchen sink. “I’ll be back around lunchtime to drop you off some more clothes and I’ll get you some lunch too, but if you want a snack in between, feel free to make yourself a sandwich, or…” Another quick Google search tells you toasters were around in 1926. “Or toast! You could make some toast, if you wanted. We’ll go food shopping soon and get more specific snacks for you, but I gotta get going.” You throw your jacket on.

“But what about your money? What if you have to pay for something?” Ralph asks, concerned.

“Don’t worry, mate, I’ve got it covered. That’s yours, yeah?” You point to the kitchen counter. “You can use it however you want when we go out. Just… Don’t go crazy, okay? I don’t exactly break the bank.” You throw your jacket on and wave him goodbye, “See you at lunch!”

Once you leave the flat, Ralph suddenly feels completely stranded. He tries to drown it out by pressing buttons on the “remote” until something shows up. It’s a show about people buying houses that are bare, and fixing them up to sell on. Ralph feels as though they end up looking worse, but he understands why he would feel that way. He just doesn’t understand the modern style, that’s all. It’s not their fault that taste clearly deteriorated over time. Then he watches a show all about “antiques”, though again, it takes him a while to acclimate to recognising certain pieces of furniture as items he’s witnessed being sold in stores just before he left for the army. He wonders, if he keeps watching, will there be an item that once belonged in Penbury House?

His mind wanders back to that comment you had made yesterday. Penbury House. A home that had been in the family name for generations upon generations, now a lowly bookstore. What could have possibly led to it being lost? Were there truly no more Penburys? Had Victoria gone absolutely mad and lost the entire family fortune? Was his accidental trip through time the catalyst to the death of the Penbury name as it was once known? Well, wouldn’t Mother and Father have a lot to say about that. Typical Ralph, can’t hold onto anything. Not even the estate tied to him by his last name, the only thing giving him any purpose.

He realises he needs a distraction. Something to keep him busy. You had mentioned something about toast, the kitchen staff had been very excited to receive a toaster oven not long before Ralph left. He remembers helping the cook, who didn’t know how to read, understand the instructions. It only toasts one side at a time, Ralph knows this. Spurred on by his pride, he finds the bread and puts it in the toaster.

As he’s trying to find the right button, switch, dial, lever - there’s so many extras on here, which one does he touch? - Ralph begins to get overwhelmed again. Echoes of his parents’ quick deflections, telling him to go ask the staff. The staff telling him that they’re far too busy to entertain children - other than the nanny, of course, who also made it very clear that she was only tending to Ralph’s needs because she was paid to do so. Victoria finding the art of making friends becoming second nature to her, and yet not to him for some reason. It’s not fair, he was just like her. So what made people want to be her friend and not Ralph’s?

Head swimming as the toast pops up, he remembers to turn it around to make sure it cooks on both sides - not realising that both sides had already cooked quite well. Soon, a strange smell starts to fill the flat. Then smoke quickly starts billowing out of the toaster. Ralph, terrified, slowly starts backing towards the door. Then an alarm of sorts goes off. Ralph wrenches the door open and backs out, his moon-wide eyes staring in horror.

Someone from the flat opposite opens the door and starts yelling, running in to unplug the toaster oven, pick up some… Tool that clamps together when they press it so, use it to take both slices out to throw them onto the counter. Ralph watches, back pressed to the wall as though he's tethered there, as this brave soul opens as many windows as they can before marching out to him, coughing their lungs out. "The fuck is wrong with you?! Who are you?! Are you supposed to even be here?!"

Ralph finds himself too stunned to speak. The neighbour rolls their eyes. "Do you at least know the person who lives here?" Ralph nods. "We'll see about that."

Being at work again, ironically, feels like it's been a century despite it only being a day. But the floor is running smoothly, everybody's here and working just great. You're even on track to finish all your admin stuff at long last, when - your phone rings as your neighbour's name pops up. You answer it, confused as to why they would possibly need to call you. “Hello?”

“You dating a dickhead, by any chance?” You hear their voice, a constant panicked hooting that - despite you having just met him - you could easily place as Ralph hyperventilating, and your smoke alarm in the background.

You sigh, “Not dating, but my… An old family friend is staying. Proper sheltered guy, sounds like a massive Tory. Is he okay?”

“Sheltered to the point of not knowing how a fucking toaster works?! I should call the fucking police on him for endangering the whole block!”

“No! No, please, I - Like I said, he’s just very… Look, I don’t have time to go through his life history with you -” read: I don’t have time to bullshit something right now - “but can you just… Keep an eye on him while I get back? I promise, he’s not bad, he’s just…”

“An absolute idiot?”

“Yeah…” You sigh.

“Alright. But only because you’ve been so good about keeping my cat secret.”

“I’ll buy Cheese her favourite tuna on my way home as a thank you!” you squeal in relief as you hang up.

You quickly ring up some clothes in the same size as the ones you’d given Ralph last night, explain to your staff that there’s an emergency at home and to call if they need anything - but please, god, don’t need anything, you think that last part to yourself.

Grateful you took your car this morning, you’re able to get back in a matter of minutes. You run into the supermarket to grab a can of tuna, a toothbrush for Ralph and, in a stroke of genius you’d had on the drive, a SIM card. You manage to successfully pay for everything - thanking whatever's out there that your phone's wallet system actually co-operated with the self-checkout for once - and run everything back to the flats, wanting to prioritise getting back to Ralph over getting the car into the right car park. You can do that once your poor neighbour is relinquished of their Ralph-sitting duties.

Once you get to your floor, you see your door still propped open, and your neighbour sat in their open doorway. With a relieved sigh, you fish out the can of tuna from your carrier bag and hand it over. “I will supply as much of that, and anything you want, as thanks for all this. Please don’t be mad at him -”

They raise a finger to interrupt you and lean over, revealing Ralph sitting on the floor of their flat, absolutely beaming as Cheese the cat paces in front of him, rubbing her head and body against his knees at every chance she can get. Ralph even pets her on occasion, which she takes happily.

Your face drops. “How - I have to use that tuna just to get a sighting of her when I come round and feed her!”

Your neighbour shrugs. “I’m just down here because I’m still convinced she’s doing it to lure me into a false sense of security -” You laugh with them at that, and they sigh in resignation. “But look at him. He’s harmless, isn’t he?”

You nod. “He’s just… Not used to living life on his own.”

They rasp as they stand up. “That’s an understatement. What, was he in some sort of imprisonment?!”

You shake your head. “I don’t even know. I just know that he wanted to get out of where he was. And he ended up here, with me.”

“You’ve got your work cut out for you, then.” A look of realisation dawns over their face as they grin at you knowingly. “Isn’t your flat a one-bed -”

“I am sleeping on the sofa!” You point at the pillow and blanket that still remain strewn over the back of your couch, just about in view of where your neighbour had kept open to keep watch of the flat. Your neighbour laughs as your cheeks turn pink. “I’m not expecting him to stick around, so I’m toughing it out until he can find his feet.”

“Yeah, well,” they shrug. “Just teach him how to use things in a way that doesn’t involve committing arson, alright?”

Ralph finally notices that you’re stood in the doorway, and the delight on his face immediately turns to shame. He stands and bows his head, quickly heading out and into your flat, not making eye contact with you. You frown, though nod a final thanks to your neighbour who thankfully nods back in understanding, and follow him in. “Hey, you alright?”

“I have failed you,” Ralph says simply, his back turned to you.

You walk over to him, deciding he probably doesn’t want physical contact just yet. “No, you didn’t, I did. I should have left instructions, it’s not your fault you didn’t know how it worked.”

“Is it all ruined?” he asks in a small voice.

You put your bag down on the kitchen counter to look at the toaster and shake your head, throwing the burnt toast away. “It’s absolutely fine, Ralph. Promise.” You lean down until you can make eye contact with him and offer him a smile. “Need a hug?”

Ralph, looking on the verge of tears, nods and you walk over to him with your arms outstretched. He buries his face in your shoulder as you feel his breaths become more and more regulated. You smell the smoke still clinging onto his shirt and tap his shoulder to get his attention. Once you’re out of his embrace, you can’t help but wish you’d lingered just a moment longer. You empty out the shopping bag you’d brought in, telling Ralph, “I bought you some new clothes. And a toothbrush. And something else I’m going to show you later. Go have another shower, get that smell out of you.”

While he’s in the shower again, you go to your junk drawer, thankful that you’d decided not to throw away your old phone when you upgraded through your contract. Putting the new SIM card in, you put your old phone on charge and start Ralph-proofing it. You delete all apps except for Google, so that he can find things out for himself. You’d tell him about Alexa’s capabilities there, too, but you feel as though Ralph isn’t quite ready to understand it can’t answer everything. Not like the internet can. While he's somewhat safe in the shower, and while the phone charges enough to power on, you quickly make sure your car isn't getting towed. That would just be the icing on the cake today.

Still, once you're back in the flat, all that stress seems to ebb away when he comes out of the bathroom. “You look smart,” you chime as he walks out wearing the outfit he’d chosen for himself from the clothes you'd provided: a brown plaid shirt and some jeans - you'd overestimated to be safe, but they didn't appear too baggy. Enough for a belt to manage, but they could fit better.

“Well, I couldn’t find a - a suit to co-ordinate anything with, or a tie, so I’ve had to make do. I hope this is suitable enough,” he brushes his shirt down with his hands and fiddles with the collar.

“It looks great, Ralph,” you reassure, waving him over. “Now, this is gonna be a really big thing I’m going to be teaching you about now, so we’ve gotta focus up, okay?”

You teach him how to send a text message to you, the only contact in the phone now. You teach him how to call you. You have him practise calling by going to your room and waiting for him. He gets all giddy when he’s figured it out. You teach him that if typing is difficult, he can press a button, speak into his phone and the words will come up. You also tell him that if he taps the last square on the screen, and types in a question, it’ll tell him everything he needs to know.

Once that’s out of the way, you remember something. “Ah, shit. Uh, hey, Ralph, I’m supposed to be going over to my friend’s place tonight for dinner. If you want, you can join us, or I can cancel -”

“No, please don’t cancel on my account! Oh, but I can’t be trusted on my own here, can I, oh blast…” Ralph falters, but you once again put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Nah, don’t be silly, you can come with, it’s fine.” You send the group chat a message:

“They say they can’t wait to meet you! All’s good,” you grin.

“It certainly isn’t, what about your job?” Ralph asks with a frown.

You sigh. "Let me make you lunch, I'll pop back in to finish my stuff. It's been a slow one and I've got a good team on so hopefully they understand if I need to dip early to come back to you. Literally, just text me or call me if you need anything, promise?" Ralph holds out his little finger and you link it with an affectionate smile. "I'll leave the spare key out here on the counter if you want to leave. And anything you want an answer to straight away, that I might not have time to answer, you can tap that last square on the main screen and type in the box, okay?" Ralph nods. You make the pair of you some sandwiches and take yours on the road with you, fishing out your spare key and showing Ralph where you're putting it ("just in case").

By the time you've driven to work, you have a notification on your phone, which you finally read once you're back in the office:

Once you're finally done with admin stuff, for the time being, you go back out onto the floor to check on your team. You fill them in on an old family friend coming to stay, he had a bit of an unfortunate incident with a kitchen appliance, all is well but you're keeping your phone on you just in case. They, naturally, want photos and details, which you promise them soon. When you notice you haven't heard from him in a while, you text him:

Your coworkers watch you with amused concern as you go from snorting with laughter to looking at your phone in horror:

Opting to simply wave them all off rather than try to explain what you'd just witnessed over the past half an hour, you help your sales assistants out as much as you can until you feel another buzzing in your back pocket. Half-terrified at what Ralph could possibly text next, you brace yourself:

You let out a stressed breath as you send that last one, and finally, your team wear you down. You explain that your new temporary housemate now has free reign to leave the house, and after the events of the morning, you'd started to regret letting him. When you tell them all that he's 25 (which technically isn't a lie, he's got the body of a 25 year old), they assure you that even the most simple-minded of men surely could only navigate so far. Still, you can't help but pace the shop floor anxiously, refolding shirts and reorganising displays, until:

Laughing with relief, you excuse yourself for the day. You tell the team that you feel awful for leaving them, but they seem to understand that you have a greater purpose ahead of you.

You call Ralph to tell him that you're on your way home, mostly to make sure you don't still hear the sounds of the street behind him. Thankfully, there seems to be some jazz music playing in the background, so he must have figured out how to get music playing, too.

You unlock your door to see Ralph humming along to a tune, wiggling himself around rhythmically as he sprays the leaves of some budded flowers with water. He acknowledges you with a wide, genuine smile. "Hello!" He singsongs. "I thought I'd spruce them up a little before they go to their new home. Just a couple of African Violets, the shopkeeper said. The ones already in bloom on display looked quite wonderful."

It's not that you're not happy to finally see him excited about something he knows about already, but this is the same man who almost burned the whole flat down making toast just hours ago. Still, look at him. It's nice to see him acclimating.

Since Anna doesn't live too far away, you and Ralph walk over to her flat. He's holding his plants and looking extremely proud of himself, until someone almost walks into him and he's suddenly pulled back into the reality of the streets of modern London. His big eyes dart around as he desperately looks out for danger, wrapping his arms around his gift protectively. You take him by the cuff on his wrist and guide him, weaving through strangers who couldn't care any less about their surroundings.

You hadn't told Anna to expect a gift today, and so she seems thrilled to meet Ralph and take the plants out from his grip. He immediately follows her to start babbling on about what the shopkeeper had said were the best conditions to keep them in. Once she's finally able to set them down, Ralph is still tailing her, looking expectantly for more reaction. Amused and slightly confused, Anna reaches up to pat Ralph on the head. He giggles and rushes over to you. You and Anna share a look before you lead him to meet the rest of your friends.

Scott, Connor and Grace all greet Ralph enthusiastically, and he seems to be bursting at the seams at the prospect of so many people being happy to meet him. He stays relatively quiet as you catch up with your friends.

"So, Ralph…" Scott starts. He goes back to looking terrified. "How are you settling in living with this one?" he shoves your shoulder, and you bat him away, playfully flipping him off.

Ralph looks taken aback at such a casual display of vulgarity, but he continues, "Well, it's only been for the one night, and there's certainly a lot to learn about… This… London," you can tell Ralph doesn't lie well, and appreciate that he's trying to word things in as honest a way as possible. “But, your friend here is a remarkable host and teacher,” he nods, smiling to you. It’s up there with one of the strangest compliments you’ve ever received, but it makes you blush nonetheless.

Anna asks for some help in the kitchen, and while Connor is the first to stand up, Scott pushes him back down with a slowly emerging smile on his face, looking directly at you. “Why don’t you give us the chance to get to know Ralphie here?”

You narrow your eyes, “Why do you say that like you’re in your villain arc?”

He laughs, immediately softening. “I just wanna know what makes him tick. Get to know what he really thinks, y’know?”

Ralph’s eyes dart between the two of you. “Rest assured, I have to reason to lie about anybody here in the slightest!”

“I’m just yanking your chain, Ralphie,” Scott laughs, though Ralph is not amused.

Connor rolls his eyes, “Don’t let him put you off us, Ralph. You can get to know us, too, without a certain someone embarrassing us in front of their new friend,” he pulls a face as he points to you with his thumb.

Ralph grins with excitement, his feet running on the spot where he sits. “Do you have a lot of tales to tell between you, then?”

“Oh, we’ve known each other for years. Went to school together.” You explain as you stand, following Anna’s anguished look from her kitchen door.

Ralph licks his lips, sadness dawning on his face. “Does that mean you all knew Lauren, too?”

Scott pulls a face, “How do you know Lauren, of all people?!”

Quickly assigning yourself as damage control, you pipe up, “Before he came to me, when he was living elsewhere, he met Lauren, Nick, Jase and Horace.”

“And yet he only mentioned Lauren…” Scott teases.

“Would you stop?” Grace slaps Scott’s shoulder as he laughs, moving over to accompany Ralph, rubbing his shoulder comfortingly. “Clearly things didn’t work out. Her loss, mate.”

Even Connor gets in on the teasing as he snorts with laughter while pointing at you. “What a twist of fate, remember when Nick -”

“You know I never actually asked him out, right? I wussed out at the last minute and just told you all that he turned me down,” you interject, to almost everyone’s groans.

“Nah, that makes sense,” Anna calls from the doorway. “Explains why you’re still such a chicken these days. Speaking of chicken,” she ushers you into the other room hurriedly.

As your friends grill Ralph on what he knows about you so far (“Very little, I’m afraid!”), what his intentions in London are (“Sort of making it all up as I go along, really!”), and his tastes (“I’m really not quite sure, um, I’m quite new to all of this… Modern… I’ve always known the classics, you know?”), you help Anna with her final preparations.

“So, how long d’you think you’re gonna keep him around for?” Anna asks.

You shrug, “It’s not really up to me. It’s whenever he’s ready to go back home, I guess.”

“I wonder where home is for him,” Anna frowns, and you shrug, focusing on your task. “He’s so… Out of touch. I know Scott was out of line guessing he’s escaped from a cult,” she mouths the word, “but, like, would him going back home really be the best thing?”

“Babe, you’ve known him for all of five minutes, and all you know about him is that he bought you some plants.”

“Exactly! You two are made for each other,” she muses, to which you grab a tea towel to flick at her.

“I’ve only really known him a day, myself,” you counter.

“And still you let the man live with you,” Anna raises her eyebrows at you.

You shrug again, “I dunno, he’s harmless, i’nt he?” You look over at him, a trace of wistfulness in your gaze as you watch your friends tap his phone for him, pointing things out to him. “I guess we’ll just see what happens.”

Once everything is dished up, you go out to the other room to call them all to pick up their meals. “Hope you haven’t traumatised Ralphie too much,” you comment.

“Not at all!” Ralph beams. “Look at how many new people I have to call and to text message now!” He shows you the addition of your four friends’ numbers in his contact list.

“That’s great, Ralph,” you nod with an affectionate smile. “Now let’s go eat. Sorry none of your favourites are on the menu tonight, mate.”

“Ooh, what are your favourites?” Grace asks.

“Oh, anything with aubergine on the side is always a five-star meal for me!” Ralph grins, and Connor and Scott snort with laughter.

“Hey!” Anna scolds. “No vulgarity at the dinner table, please!”

Ralph frowns. “What is it that’s so vulgar about aubergines?!”

You see multiple people start volunteering themselves to teach him, and hold your hand out to stop them all. “Ralph, there are some questions that you’re better off finding the answers to all by yourself.”

Ralph gasps and points at you, “By using my phone!” You click a finger gun back at him in affirmation. He excitedly taps out a sentence - part of you wants to double-check for him, but you don’t want him to be entirely dependent on you, and besides, he’s a grown man - and frowns at his phone. “Hm, perhaps it takes a while for it to find the answer.”

You groan, “Has the data not kicked in yet? Sorry, that’s on me.”

Dinner goes by delightfully. Of course your friends would make Ralph feel at home. They are home. You wouldn’t even be able to tell amongst the table that one of you was actually from old money - really old money, at that. After dinner, everyone practically fights over getting to play their favourite songs to see how he reacts to them. You could cry every time you see how genuinely happy Ralph looks - though you didn’t want to pry too much behind his back with Anna, you are curious about his life back home. He doesn’t seem too happy thinking about the past, and if he’s so hung up on Lauren, who he barely knew, there can’t have been much luck with any other relationships. Maybe you’ll get to learn more about him. Maybe you won’t have enough time.

But, for now, you’ll happily take the arm he extends out to you as the song changes, laughing as he twirls you amongst the friend group you’ll happily share with him, for however long he needs them.

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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cuubism · 1 year

Text

wip update

since I have a good number of actively-posting WIPs that some lovely people have been very kind about and invested in (and which I am very slow in updating), I figured it might be only polite to post a little update on where those are.

the melting press of the sun (dreamling) - Never intended this as a longfic, there may or may not be more than the 2 chapters it has now. I have a bit more written but it's disjointed and incomplete. I intentionally didn't leave any brutal cliffhangers on what I did post for this reason. We'll see if that one comes back.

Deja vu, Deja connu (dreamling) - The slowness in updating probably belies how deeply emotionally invested I actually am in this fic. Chapter three is just a major challenge--it's very long, covers a lot, has lots of fluff in the first part (fluff is kinda my Achilles heel, though not quite as much as wedding scenes, which this chapter also has) and a lot of heavy content later. But I have the whole fic outlined, a bunch of chapter 4 and 5 written in advance, and I'm super excited about the stuff that comes later, so it will definitely be finished, just... slowly. At least for this chapter.

In Waking Dreams (dreamling) - My current priority for an update. Chapter 4 just hit 10k and will probably hit 15k before its done (god help me), and I feel somewhat obliged to finish chapter 5 as well so I can post them in quick succession. Chapter 4 necessarily ends on a cliffhanger as it catches up to the events of chapter 3, but I feel bad about two cliffhangers in a row. But that one soon, I hope. (chapter 5 has a lot of the juiciest, long awaited scenes promised by the fic's premise, so I hope you will like that one when it's finally done 😅)

IRL (malec) - Fic that I have a tendency to get stuck on for 15 months, then write a ton of all at once, repeat. But I actually picked it up again the other day for the first time in ages, and I think I know all of the events of the chapter now, so who knows! Maybe I'll actually manage an update!

Subject: I Love You (malec) - Fic that I shamefully left with ONE CHAPTER remaining for a full year now. Honestly not sure why. Someday I will pick it up tho, I swear to god, or maybe I'll just cut the chapter short and make it an epilogue. (Actually maybe I do know why. It's another damn proposal/wedding scene. My absolute weakness and failure, I should stop writing them entirely)

mind & heart, body & soul (malec) - This fic haunts me, it follows me around 24/7 like a vengeful spirit that can't find rest. I can't wrangle it back into making any sense in my head, but for the sake of both my own sanity and the story's frankly frightening number of readers (I love you but you scare me), I've been trying to do one final chapter to offer some kind of wrap-up. Hopefully I can manage it.

Leviathan (malec) - My long held passion project that I have, in classic form, not touched in months. In fact I've been stuck on the same chapter I'm on now since probably 2020, when I first started writing the fic. This particular middle part of the fic is just vexing me to no end. At some point, I will decide on a course of action, inevitably flawed, and just power through that chapter (I say, for the 2nd year in a row). Why did I give this story two big villains again? Or think having a whole separate story arc in the middle of the fic was a good idea? Ah well.

in the palm of your hand (malec) - The one and only multichapter I finally caved and marked abandoned. I learnt my lesson with this fic about letting a oneshot expand into a completely unplanned longer fic. Boy did I...

----

I feel like I don't express it enough, but I really appreciate everyone who's ever read one of my fics, commented, kudos'd, chatted with me about them on tumblr, made podfics or art or translations, shared headcanons in my inbox or your own fics with me... I'm always blown away by the kindness and interest, and love getting to share little (or big!) stories with you and am so happy when you enjoy them ❤️ I love doing fandom with you.

#i'm bad at expressing emotion ack #my fics

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final-script · 1 year

Text

Mistletoe | Ben Chilwell

Day 6 of 10. MASTERLIST

Pairing: Ben Chilwell x Reader

Sumary: What better than the Christmas season to confess love for a person.

Warnings: English is not my first language !!!There are probably many mistakes (I will correct them later).

A/N: I think I'll need someone to kiss me under a mistletoe someday to be able to write better about the subject.

Gif: pernillecfcw

---------------------------------------

Tired of watching you drool for each other, the boys of Chelsea decide to act and what better than the time near the holidays to do it.

You had come to work for the club at the beginning of the season, you had just graduated and immediately started looking for a job.

Luckily for you, the Chelsea team was looking for a new community manager, you didn't lose anything by trying, so you did.

Just a week later, it came to your email, a mail with a date and time for an interview.

You introduced yourself and even though you were a recent graduate, they decided to bet on you.

Promising not to disappoint them, the day after your interview you started with the job.

The day you were introduced to everyone, you could swear that you had seen one of the most beautiful human beings.

On the other side without you knowing it had happened exactly the same.

The first few months it was easy to ignore those feelings, you had just started and did not want to have problems, but later both of them found it almost impossible.

Some flirtation here and there is but without any progress.

(...)

From the outside the others began to get tired of it so they began to devise a plan to bring them together.

None of them came up with anything until the Christmas season arrived.

From day to day, almost every door had a mistletoe hung, you noticed some of them but chose to ignore them.

You could ignore the mistletoe, but what you couldn't ignore was the attitude of the boys.

The months you've been working next to them helped you get to know them enough and know they were plotting something.

Although at the same time you knew you should ignore them.

(...)

I think I took it too seriously to ignore them and not be attentive to what they were plotting.

One of those days at lunchtime turned out to be a little late as I had to say some content, it wasn't too much as I still had a few minutes.

As I was rushed to the dining rooms I didn't notice a person blocking the puera.

Y/N- Sorry, no… I stopped talking when I realized who was in front of me. - Ben, I really…

B- It's okay, I think it's me who should apologize, after all I'm the one who's blocking the passage.

Y/N- in the same way I… Again I was interrupted only this time it was Ben's lips that did not let me continue.

B-I… excuse me, I think I should…

Y/N- I think I could forgive you if you do it again.

I was surprised by his act, but to be honest, I wasn't complaining.

Ben also didn't go back and kiss me again.

What was being a beautiful moment between the two was interrupted by a celebration by the people present in the dining room.

M- WE DID IT!!. The rest of them supported him with whistles and applause.

Y/N- I think I now know why there was a mistletoe at every door of this place.

B- Well they only helped with one part. He scraped his hair somewhat abergized.

Y/N- So if there is more, maybe we can be alone and tell me everything else.

We both agreed to meet, this time without so many people around.

At this moment I was glad to have ingorado everything that happened, because as much as all our companions were, both his and mine, it had been a nice way to make a statement and that he used the Christmas season for it, he did it even more.

------------------------------

The First Rule - John Stones x Reader

A Spanish Girl - Kepa Arrizabalaga x Reader

#ben chilwell #chelsea fc #ben chilwell imagine #ben chilwell x reader #ben chilwell fanfic #ben chilwell one shot #ben chilwell blurb #football imagine #footballer imagine #football fanfic #football one shot

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little-peril-stories · 10 months

Text

Intro: The Queen of Lies

AU for The Prince of Thieves / WC: keeps changing, will let you know someday

Masterlist | Content Warnings | Mood Board | Vibey Song Lyrics | Ao3

I sold myself to a loveless thing / And I walk'd to the altar and there I lied

C.W.S., Harper's Weekly, 7 July 1866

At a Glance

Genres: romance, historical, whump

POV/tense: 3rd-person, past tense

Small main cast; single narrator two narrators lol

You can enjoy the story without reading TPOT - the side characters just won't feel nearly as fleshed out here (I think so, anyway.)

tbh it's a romance with added bonus of torture, captivity, dread, angst, intimidation, and fun whumpy happenings

Description

THE QUEEN OF LIES is a tale of quiet courage, inner strength, and forbidden love—and the ways we can change our lives for the better if only we dare to take a leap of faith.

Four years ago, Breanna Cooper made a choice that altered the course of her life forever.

She stayed.

Instead of running away from a man she knew did not and could not love her, she remained—and became Mrs. Breanna Hatchett. Now she exists quietly in a life half-lived, striving to be the perfect wife and always falling short.

One day, a chance encounter in Constable Baden Hatchett’s prison brings her face to face with a captured thief from the notorious thieving gang Iustitia aecum. Though she swears she will forget the boy to whose brutal punishment she bears witness, it soon becomes clear that forgetting him is something she simply cannot do.

On a whim, for the first time in years, Breanna takes a chance and seeks out the thief—and yet again, her life is changed forever.

Vibes & Tropes

Forbidden love

Tragic backstory

“Who did this to you?”

Gazing through cell bars

"I'll fight for you"

“Why are you helping me?”

Gloomy skies, autumn leaves, rain & thunder

Against all logic and reason…

"I will always find you"

Alternatively, if you are a music-minded person, I collected some song lyrics that make me think of this story.

Cast of Characters

Main & Major Characters

BREANNA HATCHETT: Our heroine. Four years ago, she married into an abusive relationship, and since then she has been going through her life like a ghost, doing as her husband says and trying to be the perfect wife. When fate sends her careening into the story of an imprisoned thief, her entire world is rocked to its core.

FOX/THE THIEF: Our hero. If you’re new here, enjoy spending 50% of the story not knowing his name. Sharp-tongued and defiant, impulsive and reckless, the thief is determined to take his secrets to his grave to protect his family, if that’s what it takes. He is slowly losing hope…that is, until he is granted unexpected kindness by the least likely person imaginable. Suddenly, there’s more hope and light in his life than he ever expected to see again.

CONSTABLE BADEN HATCHETT: Our bad guy. Breanna’s husband. Vindictive, controlling, and manipulative, he wields his power and influence inside and outside the prison where he works as a constable. Above all things, he despises disobedience and disorder the most. When Breanna begins to take her life into her own hands, he will stop at nothing to gain control over her once again. Whatever it takes.

JUNIOR CONSTABLE CURTIS LENTON: A constable who is not-so-secretly pining for Breanna. He is a friend to her in the only way he knows how, but this means he is sometimes overprotective of her—to a fault.

DR. ALLAN ARMSTRONG DALE: A newly employed doctor who has a habit of getting in over his head no matter what universe he's in.

SPIDER: An elusive woman who helps to run the thieving gang Iustitia aecum.

HARE: The fourth and final member of IA’s inner circle.

WOLF/THE THIEF’S BROTHER: A mysterious character whose identity the thief goes to great lengths to protect.

ALICE: Breanna’s friend who encourages her to take more risks in her life.

Other Characters

MRS. BRISTOW: A nurse working at the prison. Better at the job than the medic.

MRS. DENNISON: The Hatchetts' housekeeper.

MR. GYSBORNE: The prison medic.

JUNIOR CONSTABLE MICHAELSON: A vicious officer who works under Baden Hatchett. Notable for his leering gaze and sadistic tendencies.

MARGUERITE: Breanna’s other friend.

DR. RICHARDS: The other, not-so-nice doctor.

INSPECTOR BULWELL: The head of the prison where Baden works.

MISS DUGFORD: A cruel bully of a nurse

FAQ

What will I like about TQOL?

Well, if you liked the thief’s snark in TPOT, then it’s, like, tripled, especially in the early chapters here. But this is a different story—far more romantic—and you might like getting to see a much softer side of him, too.

You might like Breanna’s character development from a very frightened and sheltered wife to a courageous young woman who is willing to take risks and face her fears.

If you like romantic tension, forced proximity, pining, and lots of caretaking/comfort, then I hope you’ll like this story!

How do I know if this story is for me?

You can check out the Contents/Warnings here. There are spoilers in that post, so click at your own risk.

For TPOT readers:

>>>>>

stop here if you don't want any vague spoilers for The Prince of Thieves!

>>>>>

What are the biggest differences between TPOT and TQOL?

Shorter. Fewer but often longer chapters. 3rd-person past tense.

There's the whole name thing. The name "Cooper" only shows up 3 times in the whole thing. "Mrs. Hatchett," on the other hand...

In TPOT, we know the thief’s name right away because he and two other inner circle members are POV characters. Breanna is the only POV character in TQOL........uh....listen. We just have to wait until she learns his name. For stylistic reasons.

Since Breanna didn't run away and never joined IA, all her serendipitous meetings with the thief in her past never happened. Her first encounter with him is in Chapter 1.

Obviously, since they're married, the relationship between Baden and Breanna—while strained and 100% toxic, problematic, and unhealthy—is not as antagonistic as it is in TPOT.

In the beginning, we get a little less existential dread because the thief isn’t expecting execution but rather long-term imprisonment, labour, or exile to a penal colony (no actual plot reason for this, I just wanted to play with the stakes and see how it changed the dynamics. because I can). This means that Ezra Johnston (the captured runner from TPOT) was never hanged and so we catch up with the thief in a slightly better mental state than the same point in TPOT.

Wolf and Jr. Constable Michaelson have reduced roles (compared to TPOT), while Jr. Constable Lenton (who literally only appears in two TPOT chapters) has an elevated role and gets a first name.

The time period is slightly different (because of reasons), but I doubt this is actually noticeable in the writing, only in my brain. I had to do a decent amount of research for this one particular plot thread, so now I know what decade we’re in lol.

What’s the same between TPOT and TQOL?

Well, Hatchett is still an asshole, and actually, so is the thief (affectionate)...he's still a snarky, potty-mouthed rascal. The IA setup is pretty much the same, the tattoo hasn’t changed, and the thief’s determination to keep the inner circle safe and out of Hatchett’s clutches is as strong as ever. On the IA end, everything up to the flogging has played out pretty much the same (see above q for a few lil differences). It's Breanna's life that has been wildly different.

In terms of tropes/plots….yes, I repeated a few. I don’t want to say them here bc spoilers but if you really want to know, send me a DM and I’ll spill which TPOT parts get their own AU twist.

Thanks for reading! <3 Hope you like it!

If you've made it this far, here's your reward:

Image ID: a square image of the external wall of a brick building with barred windows. White text reads: “No, not a hanging. It’s not for ladies to see or think of. No need to trouble yourself with such things.” End ID.

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panstardalia · 9 months

Text

After the Summer #4: Method

Masterlist: here!

Content: BBU; institutionalized slavery; dehumanization; it as a pronoun; pet whump; minor whump; beating up; blood; begging; non-sexual nudity; physical torture; starvation; inflicted cold.

When cientists work, they have to follow cautiously established rules. Every step have to go according to a plan. Rat new that much, they were smart enough for that. Apparently, though, they were not smart enough to put themself aside the rules and play pretend. No matter how hard they tried, they were never smart enough to follow their Master's orders without making at least one mistake in the process.

That's because they knew they were the subject of Master's experiment.

In a certain day, Rat made so many mistakes that it didn't even seem possible. They tried to convince themself it was because of their confused mind, that they were not in a good mental state and that knowing about being a subject would most certainly change the experiment results, but nothing could justify their incompetence. Master had been crystal clear about that.

Everything started when Rat's brain decided to bring back a melody they thought was lost. It didn't sound particularly important, just a little something to hum while sweeping Master's studio, but soon there were also lyrics to sing. After two verses, Rat realized what they were singing and their chest felt dense, but not enough to stop.

"Thought I found a way out, but you never go away, so I guess I gotta stay, now... Oh I hope someday I'll make it out of here, even if it takes all night or a hundred years." they sang in whispers and held the broom tightly, looking out the window. Rat was sure they were not making that song up, so it was a memory. They knew memories were bad, that Master wanted to wipe all of them from their mind, but somehow music was one of the hardest parts to forget.

And to be honest, Rat didn't want to lose their memories. They knew a lot of them was already missing, and they were afraid of what would happen when the last one was gone. Rat was sure they had another name before that, and they were also sure they had a family of some sort. They could remember the hope that someone would come and take them away from Master, but now, even with this hope still in their heart, they couldn't recall a single name or face. There was someone... right? But who?

Rat's singing was interrupted when a wave of pain made them lose all stenght in their legs. They tried to find support on the broom, but it slipped and Rat fell down on the ground, unable to even use their hands to break the fall. The shock collar kept on for what felt like hours before Master's voice resonated distantly.

"I thought I have told you to clean up my studio."

"I-it's done, Master!" Rat quickly stated, raising themself to kneel up. "I was-"

"Shut it" He demanded, the low voice and cold eyes telling Rat everything they needed to know: he was pissed. "Why do you think you are allowed to sing around?"

Now that was a trick question with no right answer. If they said something like I know I'm not, then they would admit they knew they were doing something wrong. On the other hand, they could not lie and say they didn't know it was not allowed. Rat was trapped with no way out.

"I don't-" they stuttered. "I won't do it again, Master, I swear-"

Rat wasn't able to finish the sentence as the man grabbed a handful of their hair and yanked them to the floor. He then caught hold of their hair again and pulled them up. Rat held back a yelp, too terrified to say anything.

"And WHY, I wonder, do you keep talking with that disgusting voice of yours?!" He yelled, shaking their head.

"I'm so sorry...!" Rat whispered, trying their best not to cry. They had learned their lesson. Singing was bad, their voice was bad, they knew it now.

Master was not satisfied, though. Even when he let go of Rat's hair and told them to leave, his expression was enough to tell them it was not over yet.

They ran out of the studio with the broom, ignoring the pain on their scalp. It would be the best luck if it was the worse for the day. So no more wasting time on fear, lost in thoughts. They had to prepare lunch.

One day after another, Rat was losing their determination to hold up on the memories they had left. They were not sure for how long they have been under Master's grasp, but it already felt like forever. If there was something worthy saving among those memories, then why had nobody came to save them yet? The only thing remembering brought was pain and nothing else. Each time Rat thought of anything outside their duties as a pet, suffering and torment followed. If they weren't going to be rescued, then maybe they should't cling to their past anymore.

Table set, Rat put the cloche over Master's plate and ran back to the kitchen, sort of to hide from him, and closed their eyes to listen. Across the hall, they could hear the man typing on his computer. They knew it wasn't normal to hear that far away, but that super power had been proving itself essential for Rat's survival. They always knew where Master was (except for when they were distracted, just like earlier), his footsteps could be heard from any room in the house.

If Rat had a fear, was that Master would find out about this ability and find a way to bypass it. They could not bring themself to imagine how harder it would be to survive if he did that, the bare thought petrified them with fear.

The typing stopped. Rooms away, the office chair made a flowing sound against the wooden floor and Master's footsteps approached. With their eyes still closed, Rat could almost see him sit down on his usual chair in the dinning room. He took off the clotch and the cutterly was loud against the plate. He was eating. Rat's stomach growled as they hadn't eaten anything in the past twenty four hours, but knowing Master was eating with no complains was enough.

Now they only had to wait and keep listening. Better then letting their memories go, Rat had learned an even more valuable lession that day: to never stop hearing Master.

------------------------------------------

Rat wondered if Master's method was working. They wondered if he knew they knew about conditioning and if was much harder to condition someone who knew they were being conditioned. "You can never outsmart me", he had said forever ago. That sentence came with a great amount of pain, enough to make them understand it was true. Even so, they could not help but ponder if he knew how smart Rat was. Not more than him... but maybe more than he would think.

There were so many maybes, so many ifs. Rat had still to decide what to do with all of it. Would telling Master show him how loyal they were? Or would it trigger his rage, for Rat was not allowed to think so much of themself? Should they keep their knowledge a secret?

"November fifteenth" they heard Master say to his voice recorder. "The progress is getting slower. I don't know what I am missing. That filthy rat of mine keeps getting its memory trigged and I can't seem to keep track of the triggers. I know I said I want to do it without chemicals, but at this rate, I'll end up with no choice but using them."

His voice was deep and Rat had a hard time recognizing all the words. However, that entry was very promising. They had to listen to every bit of it, because knowledge was power, so they tiptoed closer to the studio's closed door, knowing they could leave safely when Master finished his journaling.

"The list I keep track of its traits on is growing longer" He said with a note of frustration in his voice. "But no matter what I take from it, it seems to be just an inch deeper than I can reach. I have forbidden it from speaking Spanish, from singing, from stargazing and playing the piano. Yet, without the chemicals, I cannot reach further into its mind. It's time to reevaluate the plan and maybe draw another route."

Rat mentally took note of every word they heard, each one of them feeling like knives in their chest. Their shoulders were heavy, as knowledge was also a burden. What were them even taking notes for? It had been a long time since they had forgotten about their reasons to listen to Master's entries. Why, they wondered, should they keep holding on so tightly? What exactly were they trying to find out?

Everything Master said, plus Rat's feelings and memories, suggested that maybe they were someone worth remembering. Was it really worth it, though? Was the torture worth it? Their head hurt and spinned with so many questions and apprehensions, and Rat decided it was time to retreat.

A heartbeat too late, Rat realized they had tripped in something they shouldn't even touch: an antient chinese vase that costed half the manor's value. The shattering was so loud that everything went completely silent for a moment afterwards. They didn't hear Master's raging steps nor the door furiously opening. Their mind could only focus on the fear. Rat would be heavily punished for braking the vase, it was obvious, but would Master realize they were eavesdropping? Worse yet, would he realize they had been doing it for a while, now?

Over again, the man grabbed Rat's hair and shouted so loudly that their ears rang, unable to process the infuriated words. When they didn't reply, he threw Rat hard on the ground, on the scattered shards. It hurt like hell, they tried to get up, or at least remove some of the smithereens from under their body, but it was fruitless. Before they could even move, Master had already taken off his belt to beat them up.

He rose his voice more and more as the leather tore Rat's skin apart. They wish they could make his words make sense, but everything was nothing but a blur. Their hearing, their sight, everything felt like they were underwater. The only thing they could objectively feel was the pain, the hot blood dripping from every new wound. An eternity later, they were able gather themself together enough to articulate their own words.

"I'm sorry!!" They screamed desperately. "Please, have mercy! Please, Master, I am so sorry!!"

"Oh, now you are sorry?" He panted, not even close to finish the punishment. Rat felt the leather bruise their skin again before he continued. "What are you sorry for?"

"I'm sorry I broke your vase, Master! I know it was-"

Rat's voice failed them as Master hit them particularly hard, their words swallowing themselves in a yelp.

"You still think you are smarter than me, you filthy rat?!"

"No I don't!!" They knew they were screwed. And for what? For information they didn't even know how to use? How could they even think it would be worth it? "I am not!! I was just curious! I don't even know why I eavesdropped! Please, Master!"

"SHUT IT!" Once again, Rat's ears throbbed distressingly.

Master kept hitting them, his strenght seeming to increase instead of reducing. Rat tried to escape the belt, resulting in more shards stabbing their body. Even if they had been given the luxury of wearing clothes, they would be totally torn apart at that point.

"Please, Master!!" It was pointless to try, but Rat could not think straight anymore, nor hold back their begging. They would do anything for the agony to stop. "Please, I'm so sorry!"

A lifetime ago, they were sure someone was coming to save them. Someone would hold them tight and promise it would be alright. It felt like a ridiculous thought, right now, but if there was anyone looking for them, it would be the perfect time for this person to arrive.

"Please! Please!! Help!!" They called anguishedly, reaching for the depths of their heart. "ALLEN, HELP ME!!!"

The world stopped spinning for an eternal second. Master's hand halted above his head as his fierce eyes became cold. Black holes, Rat made this comparison once. The antecipation hurt even more than the belt. They had messed up badly this time.

The worst part was that they couldn't even fully remember who Allen was. The name slipped out their tongue so naturally, they knew it was someone more than important. Rat missed Allen so much, knowning somewhere deep down that he would protect them if he was there.

But there was only Master.

"What did you say...?" He whispered as he knelt down, and Rat's body ran cold under his breath.

"I-I don't know..." They trembled violently, too frightened to move. "I don't know, Master... please..."

His eyes shone, and Rat knew he would do his best to crush every bit of their soul. There was only one thing they could do to save themself now, because Allen could not. Nobody would.

"TAKE IT AWAY!" They pleaded, and the man paused once again, his interest piqued. "I don't want to wait for him anymore! I can't stand it! I know you're trying to erase my mind in order to turn me into a good pet! I've been resisting, but... I can't stand it anymore!"

As many times before, Rat didn't know how close to the truth those words were. Was it for real, or were they just saying the necessary to survive? Nonetheless, they had done this enough times to know that, eventually, it would become true.

"Condition me..." They begged, sobbing. "Make me a good pet, Master, please... I can't fight anymore... I surrender... I'm so tired..."

For the first time, Rat's words made him stop and think. It was so ironic. The only time they succeeded in negotiating with that man was when they gave up.

Without a word, he once again grabbed Rat by their scalp and dragged them down the hallways to the door that led outside. Helpless and exausted, they didn't even try standing up this time. They felt their thin locks give in under Master's hand as them both reached the yard.

November was so cold, so cold. Rat would trade anything for the excuse of a blanket they left in the basement. The man threw them against the wall and, when Rat reached the gound, he locked the chain attached on the bricks on their collar.

Rat tried to curl themself in a ball, shivering intensely. The blood still dripping on the grass felt even colder, now.

Master reached out and touched Rat's face, forcing them to look up. They leaned against his hand, not because his touch was gentle, but because it was warm, and it was the least violent of the entire day. It didn't last, as he pulled away and went back into the house.

The wind made it difficult for Rat to listen to his steps. They preceived he went to his room, which at that time of the day meant he went after his suitcase. Good news: he would come back and probably Rat wouldn't be left out in the cold. Bad news: he went after the suitcase.

When Master got back, he had the much hated muzzle in his hands. He put it on Rat and tightened it a little bit too much. They whimpered, lowering their head. The man, however, forced them to look up, lifting their chin, and his low voice was even more wintry then the end of the autumn.

"I'll let you think about what happened today. You can reflect on your behavior and decide if you will finally be a good pet for me, alright? I'll be back to retrieve you by dinner time, but you'll keep the muzzle for fifteen days. I'll get it out so you can eat every once in a while, when I feel generous, not because you deserve it. You are just a filthy rat and you should be grateful I am giving you the chance of being my pet. Do you understand what I am saying?"

Rat nodded vehemently, desperate. Dinner time was too far away! According to the position of the sun on the sky, it was still... no. A good pet should not know how to use the sun to tell the time, much less complain.

"In two weeks I will decide if you have learned your lesson. If you blow it one more time, I will not hesitate, do you understand? I am giving you one more chance because I have invested a lot on you already, but I can always discard you and find a better pet."

Once again Rat nodded. Master ruffled their sore head and got up on his feet. "I'll see you in a few hours" he said before disappearing into the manor.

Alone with their thoughts, Rat finally came to a conlusion they had been avoiding for too long: nobody would come for them and they had no way to fight alone. There was nothing they could do to survive but complying to the experiment they knew they were. They knew they had been someone before, but it was time to surrender and truly forget about what once was.

No more music. No more stars. No more wondering. No more Allen. From now on, Rat would focus solely on being the perfect pet. Letting go of their past was the right choice, they knew. Winter was comming and they could only hope the snow would wash away everything Master couldn't reach.

Just let go. There's no use fighting. Rat would no more dream about someone else's arms around them. Now, their only wish was for Master's embrace. When they became the perfect pet, he would finally hug them and praise them. He would tell them his efforts were paid off and would never beat them up again. This... would be perfect. Yes, there was nothing Rat wished more than that.

With this sweet daydream, they let everything else behind, on the other side of those walls.

It would be over soon.

#whumpblr #whump #bbu oc #bbu whump #pet whump #bbu #pet whumpee #Noelle Keyland #After the Summer #institutionalized slavery

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gamerwoo · 8 months

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this is not directed at you of course, or really any writer in particular but it’s getting so tiring of a lot of writers saying they make y/n inclusive or neutral then constantly describe them as being super tiny & petite, like I get most readers aren’t tall but it’s really not hard to just not add descriptors consistently about how small reader is 😕

no i completely agree an (unfortunately) i have a lot to say about this lmao

so im also pretty tall and i've been kinda struggling specifically when reading skz content because a lot of writers default to "reader is short and thin" when i could literally pick up changbin so i've had the same struggle. there are some writers who are good about their wording to keep reader actually inclusive and neutral when it's said they're supposed to be, but sometimes i get hit with the "you looked up at him" or a classic "his shirt went down to your mid-thighs" when there was nothing in the intro about reader being small and/or short. and tbh when that happens i definitely get thrown out of the scene for a sec and kinda sit there like "this wasn't warned in the beginning when it listed all the other warnings", but if the writing is good enough, i'll try to ignore it and keep reading. otherwise i just keep scrolling bc i'm not gonna go out of my way to read something i don't like, y'know? but still, it would be nice if that was included before the actual story in the warnings or something (which is what i try to do, but there might've been times i've slipped up)

but i also for some reason used to default to the same thing in my writing and i have no clue why when im almost 6 feet tall and a lil chubby lmao. i've actually contemplated doing what those writers do and writing that the reader insert is tall but not putting that in any warnings or authors notes or anything because i mean if they can do it why can't i??? but i also don't want to look like a dick so i have yet to do so. but someday i'm gonna do it i swear

overall, i've been trying really hard to be inclusive unless i am specifically writing for a certain type in mind. so like instead of saying reader blushes, i just say their face gets hot bc for some people with darker skin complexions, it's hard to notice them blush, y'know? just little things like that. like i said before, i still slip up sometimes. definitely not as often as i used to, but it's still there. i was also a really bad culprit of not specifying the gender/presentation of the reader which probably led people to think it was gender neutral, but then would use she/her pronouns. again, something i've been trying to work on but i still slip up sometimes since i use those pronouns

anyway, all this to say i 100% agree with you, but unfortunately i don't think much will change anytime soon. all i personally can do is just put more content out that includes readers that aren't small or that are actually written neutrally

#anonymous #sorry for the random rant anon i just have definitely thought about this a lot #and complained about it a lot lmao #but i realized me complaining won't change anyone's writing #i just found writers i liked or wrote my own stuff which i think is your best answer here

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theycallme-thejackal · 2 years

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Prompt “You can call me anytime”

Pairing: Lenny Bruce & Midge Maisel Rated T Warning: Mild Sexual Content

She knows it's early, but she's back in New York while the tour is on hold, and she has no chance of seeing him again any time soon, so during a rare quiet moment at the Maisels' house, she picks up the phone.

Despite everything else going on in her life - divorcing Joel again, the tour’s hiatus, running around town doing every commercial gig Susie can get her - she keeps having the same dream.

Moishe and Papa are off to work. Shirley is at Mah Jong. Mama is at tea. Ethan is at school and Esther at daycare.

The phone rings. And rings. And -

"Hello?"

"What would have happened?"

"Midge?" He's clearly just waking up, and she can hear him shifting, the rustle of sheets softly coming through the phone.

"Yes, hi. If I had come in...if I hadn't gotten a cab...what would have happened?"

There's quiet on the other end of the line. "It's ten in the morning, Midge. This seems more like a one AM kind of conversation."

"Lenny..." She says quietly.

He sighs through his nose, and there's a gentle tap that comes through the line that makes her think he's rubbed his hand across his mouth in the way that is so specifically Lenny. "Nothing you wouldn't want to happen," he assures her.

She takes a deep breath. There are variations to this dream she's been having, but they always take the same basic course. She enters the room. There's light banter. He pours them each a drink. Somehow they end up in each others' space, and then just as he's about to kiss her she wakes up.

"I wanted it," she whispers almost unintentionally.

He's quiet again, but she swears she hears him inhale in surprise. "Midge..."

"I did, Lenny," she insists, leaning against the counter, her free arm crossing over her stomach as butterflies flutter inside of her. "I do," she amends.

His quiet laughter rumbles through. "Then why did you leave?" He asks quietly.

She takes a deep breath and sighs. "You're important to me," she replies. "And I didn't want to risk losing what we already have if..." She trails off, then, nervous about spilling her guts over the phone.

"Midge," he murmurs, sounding more awake now. "I wouldn't have wanted it to be a one night stand."

She swallows, feeling a smile creep to her lips. "You wouldn't?"

He laughs quietly again. "No, I wouldn't."

Midge bites her lip gently, twisting the phone cord around her finger. "So if I had come in...what would have happened?" She asks again.

"Call me tonight and I'll tell you."

"I won't have privacy tonight," she replies, receiving nothing from the other end. "Just...humor me? So I have something to look forward to when someday finally happens."

He's quiet again, and she waits patiently.

"I would have worshipped you."

Her breath catches, and she lifts her fingers to her lips in surprise. She half-expected a joke, a brush off. Something that they could write off as flirtatious banter. But instead she gets the most vulnerable, truthful, intensely sexy response she could have anticipated.

"You would have?" She breathes.

"Yes," he husks. "For as long as you would have let me."

The butterflies in her stomach give way to a familiar tightening that makes her entire body flush. "Well," she breathes. "That's certainly incentive to push up our someday."

She can practically hear him smirking. "It's a date," he tells her quietly.

She smiles. "Sorry for calling you so early. I just...needed to know."

"You can call me any time," he replies.

That night, when she dreams, she finally feels him kiss her.

It doesn't even compare to the first time he actually does.

#midgelenny #midge x lenny #midgexlenny #tmmm fanfic #marvelous mrs. maisel fanfic #writing prompt #otp: more important than god #jackal fics #answers #sexy #pre relationship #sweet

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aajjks · 6 months

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Haha, I don't know if this counts as the best version of me, but it's definitely the most real.

I come from a very strict Muslim family, so they all expect me to be so holy all the time. I used to be religious, but I think I've just drifted away over time, so I'm not that pious anymore. I still respect the moral values of Islam, but I don't feel inclined to practice Islam as strictly as I used to. I still think it's a beautiful religion with many beneficial practices, I just don't always want to be a perfect goody-two-shoes all the time. I still love the people in my life, but I guess I'm just scared to cause unnecessary conflict with my family, so I didn't say anything.

If they knew that I like reading stories about yanderes, they'd think I'm a psycho and that I need help, when I feel perfectly fine and not disturbed by fictional violence. I actually like music, I like dance, I like boys, I swear in my head and make dirty jokes, I actually want to scream and cheer and not just sit like a lady with my legs crossed, sometimes I want to make my hair look nice instead of wearing a scarf, etc. But to my family, that's all taboo. I'm not hurting anyone, so it can't be so wrong, right? Everytime I do anything vaguely fun, I get a whole long lecture. I'm not even allowed to put a picture of BTS up in my room or on my phone's lockscreen because it's a picture with faces. They're that superstitious.

I like to think that I'm still a good person because I don't hurt anyone intentionally and I'm still a kind respectful human being even though I may have some impure thoughts. They'd probably say I'm going to hell if they really knew me and they might just be right. I don't know. They'd probably disown me if they knew what I actually think and feel. I hope that someday I'll be comfortable enough to be able to be myself instead of acting like this quiet innocent child even though I'm almost 20.

Someday, I'll build up the courage, but for now, I'm just happy to be here. That's actually one of the reasons why I like hanging out here so much. Not only is there entertaining BTS content, but I feel like this is such a safe space. I don't have a single person in my actual life that I can joke with and feel unreserved with, whereas here, I have no inhibitions whatsoever. Yeah, some of the stuff that I send in here is anonymous, but I still bother to click send whereas I would never say it in real life.

I also appreciate that you're Muslim, so I can relate to you. It makes me feel less bad about being from a Muslim family and reading smut, lol. Where I come from, people would neeeever talk about sex. I'm not perfect. There's no such thing as perfect. That doesn't change that I feel like the most two-faced bitch out there. I feel like someone who's in the closet. I'm not gay, I just mean figuratively, like no one knows how I feel. Sorry, I know this was a bit of a long rant. I just needed to offload. Sometimes I wish I could meet you in person, Alina. Then at least I'd have one real friend that actually knows the real me without judging me. You're the kind of person who stands up for her friends no matter what. I know I call you a princess, but you're truly more like my night in shining armour who saves me from hating myself and from being alone. You have a heart of gold and I love you for it. Thank you for being my friend, even if it's virtual.

P.S., If this sounds off-putting to a non-Muslim about Islam, please don't use this as an example. Islam is a beautiful religion once you get to know it. My family is just a bit... extreme. They're not terrorists or oppressors. They would never force me to do anything serious against my will. I'm willingly like this. I've created this façade for myself and don't know how to get out of it. They're just very morally sound and staunchly religious. They're a little bit condemning and restrictive, but they're still good people.

I’m glad that you feel comfy enough to share your struggles n that’s okay, I’m just blessed enough to have parents who are open minded, I definitely love my religion a lot and i practice it daily but yeah….

Yay!!!! another Muslim!!!!

anytime bae, and I wish I could MEET ALL OF YOU LIKE A LITTKE MEET N GREET OOHHH I WISH I COULD 😭🩷

#asks

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jmagnabo92 · 7 months

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Hi! Sorry to bother, but i have a weird request... and I'm aware it's strange and I have no right to say anything about it since I'm not on discord and I'm not a content creator and I just enjoy reblogging stuff here on tumblr... and I'm also super-late to the party... But is there any chance you guys on discord could reconsider the name for Prongsfoot (romantic)? Maybe "inseparebel" or something, since we need something original enough that people won't clog up.... I know it may sound unfair to ask this of y'all as y'all already discussed about it and changed the ship name once already (maybe more), and really I'll understand if it's not possible because it's my problem, and you shouldn't have to lose more time on this, but it's just that bambibelle is associated with p*rn in my country and it creates some troubles sometime... (gosh I really hate that prongsfoot was invaded by platonic posts) I swear I know it's unfair, and I'm not sure if I'm doing the right thing in asking, but I thought to try :) in case just say, "sorry, we can't" and I'll understand. Really! Thank you for listening and a big thank you to you and all the other James/Sirius fans and creators for your service! I truly appreciate it and love you guys a lot.

Sorry and thank you. Cheers, H.

Hello, I appreciate your polite request.

However, we do still use the Prongsfoot tag, so if you'd like to not use Bambibelle tag, that's alright. You can always use the Prongsfoot tag, no one is requiring anyone use 'Bambibelle'.

A big problem we have is that most of the ship names we CAN come with will be stolen by Jegulus and/or has already been taken by them and thus, we're stuck. Unless you have any ideas?

Hopefully, some day people will learn to respect the Prongsfoot tag and we won't need a different tag. It does appear that we might be making some headway with regards to the tag, so maybe someday, we'll get there.

Unfortunately, for now, it doesn't feel fair to have to change our tag AGAIN, when it's only been like six months since we changed it out of pure frustration. Plus, it's hard to come up with a ship name that would appropriately work and get the fandom to follow it. I feel like if others respected our tag that would be a better endeavor than changing the ship name.

So maybe reach out to people misusing that tag? Maybe that's the better choice.

But I do appreciate your request and I'm sorry to deny it.

Thanks for the ask. :)

#sirius black #james potter #bambibelle #Prongsfoot

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