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shredsandpatches · 2 years

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sunday snippet (OT3 in training edition)

Forgot to post a Sunday snippet last week so here's a longish one for today. This is set fairly early on in Richard and Anne's marriage, after she's found out about Richard and Robert but also after they've begun working things out. I don't think I've posted it before, at least. I haven't been writing much lately because I've been completely caught up in job-hunting stuff.

Richard hasn’t spent much time alone with Robert since Anne caught them together; he doesn’t want to break things off entirely, and he misses Robert terribly, but he doesn’t want to hurt Anne either, and Anne has not been very clear about her feelings regarding their continued association, even as friends and brothers-in-arms. The three of them have all spent time together, enjoying hunting and hawking and the occasional private supper, but with things still so unsettled, Richard and Robert have both been shy of one another.

Which is why it’s such a great surprise when Richard comes to pay Anne a visit in their private garden, which she has taken to very quickly and where she will sometimes relax after dinner, and finds her walking arm in arm with Robert while a few of her ladies trail behind them, their veils fluttering behind them in the warm breeze. One of them calls out something in their native language and motions to Anne, who takes Robert’s arm and turns him in Richard’s direction. Robert actually pales as he bows, but Anne is beaming as she curtsies.

“If it isn’t my two favorite people in the world!” Richard exclaims, taking Anne’s hand and kissing it. “I hope you haven’t frightened Robert too badly.”

Anne smiles up at Robert. “I think he will recover.” She offers her hand for him to kiss as well. “Will you, my lord of Oxford?”

Robert bows gallantly and raises it to his lips. “If your Highness bids me,” he says.

“I do, my lord,” Anne says. “Will you come hawking with us tomorrow? My lord of Cambridge and his lady gave me a new falcon, and my lord husband says you are skilled in falconry.”

“Of course,” Robert says. “At his Highness’ pleasure.”

Richard smiles. “Always,” he says.

“If my lord will grant it,” Anne says, turning to Richard, “I will take my leave now—I would like to rest, and I have letters from petitioners to look over.”

“Of course,” Richard says. “I’ll see you at supper.”

“Come see me after?” Anne says, her eyes warmly hopeful, and Richard’s heart flutters.

“Whenever you wish,” he says.

Anne’s cheeks go just a little pink. She stands on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, and when Richard bends in, she whispers, “Try to behave yourselves.” But when Richard looks at her face again, she is smiling. “Good afternoon, my lord of Oxford,” she says, and sweeps out of the garden, her ladies behind her. Agnes gives Robert a wry smile and a pat on the arm on her way past, though if she means to flirt with him, Richard doesn’t think she’ll have much luck.

Robert, impervious to Agnes’ affections, sinks onto the stone bench nearby, his expression dazed. “What just happened?” he says.

“Don’t ask me,” Richard says. “I just got here. But I’d guess that Anne likes you.” He smiles. “It looks like at least one of her ladies likes you,” he adds, elbowing Robert hard enough to be teasing but softly enough to still be friendly.

“I didn’t notice,” Robert says. “About her ladies, anyway. But—Diccon, is she all right with us now? After everything?”

Richard’s cheeks flush a little. “Maybe?” he says. “I haven’t had the heart to ask her about the specifics. She was so hurt, Robin—she was afraid I’d never really loved her—”

“Well,” Robert says, “I hope I’ve set her straight for you. She seems like a bright girl, but if she can’t see what’s in front of her—I mean, you’ve talked about practically nothing else since she arrived.”

Richard covers Robert’s hand with his own. “That doesn’t mean I’ve stopped loving you,” he says. “I’ve loved you since before I even knew what that meant. That hasn’t changed, Robin. I asked Anne to trust me, before. I need you to trust me, too.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” Robert says. “I just don’t know how long we can keep this up, now that you’re married. Or how long the Queen will tolerate it.”

“It will help if you get to know her better,” Richard says. “What did she tell you?”

“That she knew I’d lain with you,” Robert says. “I’m surprised she’d even heard that that was possible. Maybe she’s heard the Wycliffites grumbling about it. They seem to like her.”

Richard huffs a little, dislodging a pebble from the ground with his toe and watching it skitter across the garden path. “She could have learned about it from us, you know. And shut up about the Wycliffites. She’s not a heretic.”

“No, I suppose not,” Robert says.

“She just asked you about us, just like that?”

Robert smirks. “I mean, we didn’t get into the specifics of it. Though maybe she would have enjoyed knowing, who can say? But she wanted me to know that she knows, I think.” He looks down at his shoes, reaches down, plucks a daisy and sticks it in Richard’s hair. “She could destroy us, you know. Like your great-grandmother did to your great-grandfather. It’s not as though there aren’t people who’d want front-row seats if I ever got myself disemboweled. And yet—I don’t think she will.”

“Anne is nothing like my great-grandmother,” Richard says. “Nothing at all. I told you, back when we were first married: she wants to love you, as I do.”

“That’s exactly what she told me,” Robert says. “That I am beloved of you, and that through her love for you, she must also love me.” He shakes his head, baffled. “She’s not what I expected, Richard. I didn’t know wives could be quite like that.” He shrugs, then, and gives a little snort. “Mine certainly isn’t.”

Richard makes a little noise that’s meant to be a laugh but doesn’t get there. “How do you even know that?” he says. “When was the last time you talked to her?”

“It was—” Robert pauses. “A while ago? I don’t know. I don’t especially want to talk about it.”

He is the one who brought Philippa up in the first place, but Richard lets that pass. “I’m just saying,” he says. “Being married actually isn’t bad at all, you know. I’m sure you and Philippa could also work something out, while I work things out with Anne.” He nudges Robert again, grinning. “You know, before Agnes gets her hopes up too much.”

“What are you talking about?” Robert says.

“Anne’s lady-in-waiting—the blonde one, with freckles. I think she likes you.” Richard grins. “Clearly a woman of discriminating taste.” He leans over and kisses Robert, quickly, on the lips. “She can’t have you, though.”

Robert laughs. “I told you,” he says. “I’m a King’s man, through and through.”

#the novelthing #sunday snippet #richard ii #otp: my derlyng is a bundel of myrre to me #otp: such a passionate fling for a virgin king #ot3: 'tis two rogues i love #btw 'my lord of cambridge' is edmund langley who isn't duke of york yet in 1382 #also: richard has a tendency to be oddly approving when someone has a crush on someone he loves #he consistently compliments their taste #he says the same thing about both ralph stafford and agnes in re: anne #this is a sign that he's really trusting of his partners #so like #of course people love them #they're really lovable!

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risestarkiss · 4 months

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✨The Fashionista✨

Rise Ramblings #234

While watching “The Clothes Don’t Make The Turtle,” I noticed something.

I found it interesting that Raph, Mikey, and Leo were content with Raph’s outfit choice until Donnie stated that he wasn’t “in love with it, ya’ know.”

Suddenly, Raph declares “I’m a disaster!” Albeit ridiculously endearing, it was a little strange to see his sudden shift from moderately content to absolute dissatisfaction. Huh…

Then, the disaster twins decide to help him out.

Take a note of their outfit choices.

Raph tries on all of these fits and more.

Donnie’s first choice is a mild “no.” Leo’s choice is a hard “NO.” (Not surprising, lol.) But then, the overwhelming consensus lands on Raph’s fourth outfit, which ended up being Donatello’s other pick for his brother.

So, in summary, Raph tried on his personal choice for an outfit, of which they rejected. Then, ultimately, Donatello picked out an outfit for his brother, and that pick ended up being perfect. Hmm…

Then I noticed something else. In this episode, we never get a Donnie “curtain reveal” moment, to our disdain. I mean, Raph, Leo, and Mikey got to try on several different outfits in order to get their brothers' opinions before landing on that “perfect outfit, you know the one.” All of his brothers got to shine. Why not DonTron?

Then it hit me.

The try-ons were to get their brothers' opinions and approval. And, for his brothers' choices, he was a major contributor in assisting them in pulling their looks together.

What if, bear with me, Donnie didn’t need the "curtain scene" because he was so confident in his fashion sense that he didn’t need to ask his brothers for help to pick out a great look.

…or they figured out how to break Hypno’s spell before he could get a “curtain reveal.” BUT STILL-

Look at his outfit choices in this episode. Some of his wardrobe changes were off-screen, but all of them were fire.

(I added the baseball cap pic because it makes me happy. I wish we'd seen more of that fit.)

To me, he makes some really smart choices for himself, pushing the envelope of what is expected and taking chances: an open collar with no tie for a “black tie” event, a beanie and spiked wristbands for their “gansta look,” no socks with loafers (a viral fashion trend that actually began in Africa) with old man slacks in his reclined pose. *muah* Chef’s kiss!

But Don’s fashion sense doesn’t just shine in this episode.

In “Reparin’ the Baron” the boys go to Draxum’s apartment. Leo and Donnie show up in some extra nice “Sunday Dinner” twin drip.

The gold is in the details. Everything Leo is wearing, Donnie rocks its compliment: for Leo’s round collar, Donnie’s is angled, for Leo’s blue shirt, Donnie’s is white, For Leo’s light slacks, Donnie’s are dark. Blah blah blah. It’s so good!

Look at the winter fit in Snow Day.

Again, Donnie is Leo’s perfect compliment. As a pair? Fire.

Donnie has “the eye.” I can go on and on with examples, but I’ve said all of that to say this…

In the future, we see that Donatello’s technology had major pull in the resistance. He had drone ships patrolling the skies. He built and designed Leo’s arm, Casey’s chainsaw-hockey stick, and Casey's mask. The list goes on…

But, when Donatello from the past see’s Casey’s clothing from the future, he says this:

We know about the “Genius Built” brand. We’ve seen that logo on all of his tech up to this point. But, here he didn’t just say “Genius Built.” He said, “Genius Built Apparel.”

“Apparel” is not a tech brand. “Apparel” is a fashion brand. Of course, tech is incorporated into the clothing, but still.

This means that past Donatello secured this trademark with plans of creating a fashion brand, comparable to the likes of Gucci, Ralph Lauren, or any other modern clothing brand, as a subsidiary of “Genius Built,” the tech company.

And why not? The evidence has been in front of us this entire time. He has a sharp eye for style, fashion, and trends. It is easily canon that he can sew. Splinter sewed their ninja garbs in “Insane in the Mama Train,” and there is a sewing machine in the house.

They already learned Ninjutsu through basically osmosis, so learning to sew is not too far-fetched.

And here it is, right in front of us, Casey’s entire ensemble, from mask, to weapons, to clothing, was made by Donatello in the middle of the apocalypse under the brand name “Genius Built Apparel.”

And that was just in the bad future. Resources were limited, they didn’t have access to much of anything in that broken world as they were survivors of a devastating Krang invasion. Yet, he created all of this.

However, now that they’ve changed the future, his future as a fashion designer is limitless. Think of what Donatello could produce with unlimited resources, unlimited technology, and unlimited creative freedom.

Tech genius. Clothing designer. Fashionista. Future Genius Built Apparel Owner and CEO. I’m sorry, but I have to call it...

Donatello Hamato of the present, of the bad future, and of the good future is a fashion icon, the likes of which the world has never seen. ○○○○

Update: I've decided to make this concept into a mini-comic series!

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 10 months

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Who Taught You How to Love Like That? - Chapter Three

Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x female character (third person) Warnings: Sugar daddy/sugar baby dynamics. Smut. Oral (f receiving). Mild angst. Word count: ~3.1k Series masterlist

Chapter summary: The dinner date happens, and much more besides that.

Author's note: No gods, no masters, no tag lists. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.

She hasn’t been able to shake the memory of Aemond’s lips since they kissed on Wednesday evening. He’d dropped her home shortly afterwards, letting her know he’d pick her up at 7pm on Friday. Since then her tummy has fluttered every time he crosses her mind. If she closes her eyes she can almost taste the red wine and cigarettes on the plushness of his lips as they’d pressed eagerly against her own.

She knows it is foolish to wish for something more, to expect their arrangement to be something other than transactional, but that kiss had felt like he meant it, so she allows herself a tiny slither of hope to believe there is the possibility for a genuine connection to blossom between them.

Relieved when her last minute annual leave request for Friday is approved, she gets to work on making sure she looks her best. She intends to spend the day face masking, exfoliating and shaving until she is the very picture of perfection for her dinner date.

She’s startled by the buzzer to the flat, rushing to the door to answer the intercom. She lets the delivery driver up, assuming it’s something Mysaria has ordered, but balks when three parcels are handed to her, each of them with her name on.

She opens the first, it contains a black floor length Ralph Lauren off the shoulder gown with a thigh high slit. She holds it against herself in front of the mirror, she knows Aemond is generous to her, but she is still awestruck by the sheer extent of how much he is prepared to spoil her.

The second package is a pair of Jimmy Choo black suede open toe platform sandals with a stiletto heel and delicate ankle strap. She turns the shoes over in her hand, marveling at them, but also wondering how on earth she’ll ever manage to walk in them.

Her phone vibrates and she’s unable to keep the Cheshire cat-like grin from her face as she sees it’s from Aemond.

I saw the tracking information for my gifts update to state they had been delivered. Do you like them?

She fires off a quick response.

I love them :) Thank you xoxo

It’s only after she’s set her phone back down that she remembers there’s a third package, hidden among the wrappings of the first two she’d opened. Her eyes widen as she unwraps it. Agent Provocateur. Aemond has sent her lingerie.

Her palms grow sweaty as her heart races and her thoughts travel faster than her mind has the capacity to keep up with. This clearly meant he anticipated something happening between them this evening. What man sends a woman underwear if he doesn’t expect to see her in it? She isn’t experienced at all. What if he’s disappointed? What if he asked for a refund? Fuck, can sugar daddies even ask that of their sugar babies?

She is broken out of her mild panic when Mysaria comes home. “You in?” She calls out as she closes the front door behind her.

“In here.” She shouts back from her room.

She hears her flatmate toe off her shoes and then pad towards her. She leans against the doorframe, eyeing the packaging and clothes that lay scattered on the carpet and lets out a low whistle.

“Daddy been spoiling you? Lucky girl!” Mysaria says with a grin, which disappears when she sees her worried expression. “What’s the matter?”

She holds up the Agent Provocateur lingerie box by means of response and Mysaria nods in understanding.

“Nothing needs to happen until you feel ready. Why not just try it on and see how you feel?”

She sucks in a steadying breath, attempting to calm herself. There was no harm in trying it on.

It turns out to be a playsuit of sorts. An underwired, padded quarter cup bra with a basque constructed using satin covered black boning and satin straps to create a cage-like effect, complete with suspender straps with gold-toned sliders, with subtle, matching black satin bows. Inside the box is also a flimsy black lace thong and black silk stockings.

“The man’s definitely got taste.” Mysaria says, helping her into it.

They’ve had to boot up her laptop and look up the lingerie on the Agent Provocateur website in order to figure out the intricate series of straps and clasps, and she can’t help but notice the eye watering price that’s listed alongside it online. Fuck. There was no way Aemond wasn’t expecting to sleep with her.

She stands in front of her full-length mirror and runs her hands over her body, looking at the way her breasts sit within the cups of the bra and how the straps of the basque dip and flare with the natural curve of her waist and hips.

“It looks different on the model on the website.” She says nervously, chewing her lip. “What if Aemond doesn’t like it?”

Mysaria snorts derisively. “Girl, please, that model has been airbrushed to shit. You are real and you look hot as fuck. Daddy’s gonna lose his mind when he sees you in that.”

“You really think so?” She asks, turning slightly, still studying herself in the mirror.

Mysaria gives her a playful swat on the backside. “Oh, I know so. Now let’s finish getting you ready.”

Two hours later, her hair and make-up have been perfected by her flatmate, and she stands wearing the dress and shoes that Aemond had gifted her - she has done several practice laps of the living room in the heels, to ensure she doesn’t fall over - the lingerie is snug to her body underneath.

Her nerves disappear the moment Aemond steps out of the car to greet her. His long silver-blonde hair is loose. She has never seen it all down at once, it falls thick and lustrous, well past his shoulders. Yet another well-tailored black suit hugs the broadness of his shoulders and the length of his long legs.

Any uncertainty as to how she ought to say hello dissipates as he cups her jaw and presses a soft kiss to her lips.

“Hi.” He murmurs, keeping her close. “You look beautiful.”

“Hi yourself.” She whispers back. “You don’t look so bad either.”

He helps her into the passenger seat and the drive is spent in comfortable silence, though this time his hand lays a possessive hold on her knee whenever he’s not shifting gears. It leaves tingles across her skin in its wake and the gesture makes her feel lightheaded.

They pull up outside a restaurant called SOLA and Aemond takes her hand as he opens the car door for her.

“I took the liberty of choosing this place because it has a Michelin star. Never actually tried it myself.” He tells her as they walk in.

The dining room is small and intimate, elegantly decorated with an abundance of leafy green plants and sculptural lighting, but she is struck by the distinct lack of other diners.

“Why is no one else here?” She whispers to him as they’re ushered towards their table.

He smirks, watching her take in her surroundings with wide eyes once they are seated, his one seeing eye studies her closely. “I hired the place just for us for tonight. Wanted you all to myself.”

She giggles at that. Such a show off. She expects the food to be equally as flashy, a display of wealth for the sake of it. However, Aemond has ordered ahead of time for the both of them, with choices that suggest a more refined palate that goes beyond merely wanting to splash his cash.

They dine on Kindai bluefin tuna and oysters, paired with crisp white wine and the conversation flows as effortlessly as the wine.

She finds out that there isn’t much in the country from a business standpoint that the Targaryens and Hightowers don’t have a hand in. His father had worked to build an empire alongside his partners Otto and Daemon, prior to his death, and much of it has been left for his children to take care of now that he’s passed. Aemond oversees most of the legal aspects of the business, which is unsurprising to her considering how sharp his mind is.

He listens intently as she tells him more about her history degree and love of fine art. It saddens her when he tells her that originally he’d wanted to study history and philosophy, but had had to give that up to pursue a career in law when his family’s expectations were laid out to him.

It’s obvious there is an abundance of complexities and drama surrounding his family, but she knows better than to attempt to unpick all of that now, especially when the evening is going so well.

Her skin feels heated every time he reaches across the table to gently stroke the back of her hand with his thumb. His eye contact is intense and with every moment that passes she finds any apprehension she had about sleeping with him simply fading away. She wants him.

“Dessert?” He asks, as the meal draws to a close.

She shakes her head with a slight smile. “Couldn’t eat another bite.”

“A pity.” He says, taking her hand and tugging her from her seat towards him. “I’m still absolutely ravenous.”

“For what- oh!” She gasps as he sits her on the edge of the table in front of him, lifting the skirt of her dress to the side by its thigh slit.

He hums in approval as his eye roves over the bottom half of her lingerie. She feels like there isn’t enough air in the room, her heart hammers wildly against her ribcage as his hands run up and down her legs. His thumbs stroke the creases where her thighs meet her pelvis as he drinks her in.

“W-what if one of the waiters sees?” She asks nervously, squirming against the heat that pools between her legs.

“Well, I suppose we’d better put on a good show for them.” He tells her with a raise of his eyebrow.

He hooks two fingers into the lace of her thong, pulling it to one side before he leans forward, groaning appreciatively as the flat of his tongue strokes gently through her folds.

A soft moan escapes her. No one has ever taken the time or care to do this to her before, she is unsure of what she’s supposed to do in this situation, but the thought leaves her mind entirely as Aemond begins to flick his tongue against her bud before suckling it harshly. She leans back on her elbows as he devours her with his lips and tongue, doing her best to stifle her noises by biting her lip, her chest heaving with the effort to stay quiet.

Her hands fly to his head, burying themselves in his hair as she bucks against his face when he speeds up his movements. Sounds of enjoyment rumble in his chest, sending shockwaves all the way through her body, causing a telltale tightness to rapidly build within her lower belly.

She finally falls apart, shuddering atop the table with a strangled cry when uses the tip of his tongue to draw tight circles against the most sensitive part of her. He pulls away, his face shining with her slick as he lifts her underwear back into place. He grins, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“You okay?” He asks.

She nods, feeling dazed. “Yeah…just…I need a minute.”

Aemond chuckles, smoothing her dress back into place. “Understandable.”

“That was…wow.” Is all she’s able to say once she feels lucid enough.

Aemond stands, helping her from the table. “The bill was taken care of in advance. Let’s head back to my place. I want to be somewhere where you don’t have to stifle those pretty noises you make.”

His hand sits higher on her thigh on the drive back. A mixture of nervousness and excitement has her pulse thrumming from thoughts of what he’ll do to her, of what he’s just done to her. Nobody had ever gone down on her before, but now Aemond has, and on top of a fucking restaurant table of all places.

Aemond lives in the penthouse of a modernised high rise. It’s minimalist. All of the fittings and furnishings are a combination of matte black and shiny silver chrome. It’s clean almost to the point of feeling sterile. It’s obvious he doesn’t spend a lot of time here.

She grins when she sees the elderly doberman raise her head from her bed as they walk through to the living room.

“You must be Vhagar.” She coos softly, kneeling and offering a hand for her to sniff. She scratches gently around the dog’s ears, giggling at the way she narrows her eyes in satisfaction, lifting her salt and pepper snout towards the ceiling.

“She’s not normally fond of strangers.” Aemond muses, as he kneels beside her, ruffling Vhagar’s head.

“The trick is to approach from their level and offer your hand before you try to touch.” She tells him. “Most animals that don’t like people just haven’t been approached by the right ones.”

He stares at her for a few moments, a small smile upon his lips, before he finally breaks the silence.

“Can I get you anything?” He asks, standing and walking towards the kitchen.

“I’m good, thanks.” She follows him and they hover by the kitchen island, simply looking at each other before he surges forward to kiss her.

The force of it feels like it knocks all the air from her lungs, it’s hungry and possessive and she returns it with equal enthusiasm, whimpering as her tongue meets his. He dominates the movement, his hand cupping the back of her head as he backs her into the bedroom.

She topples back onto the bed at his soft but insistent shove. Black sheets of a no doubt ridiculously high thread count feel like buttery silk around her as Aemond kneels before her to tug off her dress.

“Fuck.” He mutters as she lays before him in the lingerie he’d bought for her. “Yeah, we’ll be leaving this on. And these.” He grips the heel of her shoe, as he places a kiss to the inside of her ankle, before letting it drop again.

She watches, transfixed as he sheds his own clothing. Aemond is a work of art. His chest and abs subtly toned, he is all lithe, corded muscle, and she clenches at the sight of him. He is already hard when he strips all the way off, and nerves nibble away at her as she looks at the sheer size of him. Long and thick, lightly veined with a blush pink tip, her mouth waters slightly at the sight, yet there is a part of her that worries it might hurt. She had only ever slept with her ex before, and despite her inexperience she knew enough to know he wasn’t well endowed, nothing compared to this.

Aemond crawls over the top of her, trailing hot, open mouthed kisses to her neck and collarbones that make her writhe beneath him, each one sending warm ripples of arousal through her.

His fingers dip between her legs, pushing past her thong to stroke at her. “Shit,” He hisses. “Still so wet for me, I don’t even have to prepare you.”

He takes a condom from the nightstand, tearing it open and rolling it over the length of him before repositioning himself between her legs.

They both suck in a sharp breath as he begins to push inside, the stretch of him against her sensitive walls is both too much and not enough all at the same time.

“So fucking tight.” He grits outs, his grip on her hips vice like as he bottoms out.

He lays like that, forehead rested against hers as they both adjust, only daring to move his hips once she relaxes.

His strokes are smooth, even and precise, tapping a spot inside of her with every thrust that has her clutching his shoulders and moaning his name.

“Feels so good.” She mewls desperately as his hips piston against her own.

“Oh she likes that.” He hisses, almost mockingly, placing one of her legs over his shoulder and pounding harder into her.

Her eyes roll back at the sensation, her hands grip frantically at Aemond’s biceps and then the bedsheets beside her as he rubs at her clit with his thumb in tandem with each of his thrusts.

“You gonna cum again for me, pretty girl?” He asks huskily. “I can feel you squeezing me.”

“Fuck!” Is all she’s able to cry out in response as she feels herself tighten and spasm around him, her back arching off of the bed with the force of the pleasure that washes over her.

Her own release triggers Aemond’s and he snarls, holding her tight against his chest as he stills and spills into the condom.

He pulls out, depositing it into the wastebin and pulls her into his arms.

She feels utterly spent, boneless and dazed in the wake of what she’s just experienced, but Aemond isn’t prepared to let her doze off just yet.

He moves down the bed, unbuckling each of her shoes and removes them. He ushers her to the bathroom with a firm tap to her thigh. Once she’s finished and settled back into bed with a glass of water, he begins to slowly unclasp each of the straps of her body suit, softly rubbing and kissing each of the indentations made by the bones of it as it falls away from her body.

“You’re gorgeous.” He whispers to her, stroking her hair as she drifts off to sleep.

She awakens the next morning, surprised at how refreshed she feels considering the events of the previous evening. She smiles to herself as she snuggles into the luxurious feeling plushness of the bed, thoughts of how good Aemond had made her feel playing on a loop in her mind. She is startled slightly when she rolls over to find his spot empty.

A note has been left on the bedside table.

Sorry, had to run. Have transferred you money for cab fare - A.

She sighs. She hadn’t expected breakfast in bed, but she can’t deny the sinking feeling in her stomach at the fact he hadn’t bothered to stick around. Rummaging through her things that lay scattered on the floor, she retrieves her phone to look at the time when she sees the banking app notification.

£5,000 from A. Targaryen. Her heart twists painfully in her chest. That wasn’t cab fare, it was payment for last night.

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cheapshrimpysheep · 10 months

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When Can I See You Again?

SUMMARY: After classes you go with Ortho to Ignihyde to play with Idia. You end up eating noodles with him for dinner, and before you leave is when your conversation warms up a bit.

CHARACTERS: Pairing with Idia. Ortho and other characters as secondary.

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Flirting; Kissing

WARNING: Spoilers from: Book 6; The Phantom Bride; Twisted Halloween (1st and 2nd parts); The Harveston Sledathon; Camp Vargas 2: The Art of Survival.

WORD COUNT: 2.640

COMMENTS: This is for the @briarvalleyarchives “Anthems of Old” event. I was invited to join this twst writers network and this is the first thing I write for it. I took this more as a challenge to myself. I was happy with the result and I hope you like it too. And it wasn't until later that I realized that I chose a song from a movie about villains not really being villains.

Check out the Song I chose -> Owl City - When Can I See You Again? (From Wreck it Ralph)

You and Grim were having lunch with Ace and Deuce. Until Ortho showed up and asked if he could sit with you. He wasn't carrying a tray.

“We can arrange a sit for you on one condition.” Grim said “You don't eat because you're a robot, right?” Ortho confirms. "But now you're a student right? Aren't you entitled to a meal too?"

“Aaah, I think I know what Grim is getting at.” Ace comments.

“I think I know too.” Ortho says. “You want me to go get my meal and give it to you, correct?”

“Yah! If you do, you can sit with us.”

You tell Ortho he doesn't have to do that and Grim starts to protest.

“Ha ha. It's okay, prefect. As far as I know, the necessary amount of food is prepared for all students. If they do it with me as one of the students who will consume the food, that means at least one meal will be wasted. So maybe giving it to Grim is the best thing to do.”

Everyone approves of his point of view. Some for better reasons than others. He goes to get his meal to give to Grim and sits down with you.

You start chatting and, eventually, Ortho starts talking about a new game that Idia and him started to play and that a lot of people say it’s good. It was a cute and fun co-op game about a couple. And when you see some parts of the gameplay that he shows you, you show interest in playing too.

“So why don't you play with my brother? I'm sure he will enjoy playing with you.”

“Don't you want to play?” You ask.

“Hmm... yes, but I would like him to play in real life with someone else besides me. You know?” You do. “Why don't you come with me to Ignihyde after school to play? We can reset the game for you. We haven't made that much progress anyway, don’t worry.” he was clearly very happy about it.

“I pass.” Grim says with his mouth full.

“Hum? WHY?” Ortho asks.

“Because this guy always wants to treat me and pet me like I'm a cat! I'd rather take a long nap in Ramshackle Dorm with the ghosts.”

Ortho sighs, but he says it's okay. The truth he won't reveal is that it will even be better that way.

After school, Ortho accompany you to the Ramshackle Dorm to drop Grim off. And then, you two go to the Hall of Mirrors to go to Ignihyde.

When you arrive at the door of Idia's room, upon recognizing Ortho, the door opens without any problems and you two enter. Idia was sitting in the desk chair with his back to you at the door, with headphones in his ears. Ortho chuckles mischievously.

“Hey, (Y/N)?” he whispers to you. “Do you want to surprise him?” And you do! He gives you an idea and you execute it.

Idia was focused on the screen. You approach slowly, lean in beside him, and give him a quick peck on the cheek. He jumps off the chair and lands on the ground. And as soon as he sees you, the ends of his hair turn pink.

“WHAT? WHEN... W-when did you spaun here?”

You laugh. "Didn't Ortho tell you I was coming to play with you?"

He looks at his younger brother.

“Surprise!” Nope, Ortho didn't tell him. But now he tells him about your lunchtime conversation. And about you two playing from the beginning.

“But I like to play on hard mode.” Idia mutters, thinking you can't hear him. “In that case I'll have to beat the game on easy mode.”

“If this is so painful for you then why don't you just tell me you only play with pros?” You say, crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow.

“Hep!” he genuinely hoped you hadn't heard. “No! That's not- I didn't- I wasn't-” he seems unable to finish a single sentence.

Seeing him so flustered is so funny to you, to the point of being a little cute. You can't hide the urge to laugh and that makes him revert to his gloomy self. And sulking a little bit that you're laughing at him.

“So... you're not upset?”

“Oh, I am. But seeing you panicking is revenge enough for now.”

“Oh yeah? Let's see who panics when we're playing.” he smirks evilly.

You turn serious all of a sudden and worn him: “Don't put it on-”

“I'm not putting it on hard mode.” he answers you slightly intimidated. One of the sides he likes most about you and something that he will never admit.

It's a co-op puzzle game. Which means he becomes a cocky bastard for solving puzzles in seconds. He annoys you with his arrogance and you annoy him by messing things up in the game. While you're playing, Ortho left you two alone and none of you noticed.

You were having so much fun that it wasn't until your bellies rumbled that you realized you hadn't eaten yet and it was past dinnertime. You start to worry about Grim. Not because you think he would have been starving without you, but because he could eat who knows what without you around.

“It’s been fun but now I’ve got to go.” you say and your belly growls again.

“It's still going to be a long time before you get to your dorm and still have to cook dinner.” He says “If you are as hungry as I am, you should eat as soon as possible.”

“I know. That's why you should go now.”

“I have a lot of instant noodles. And I would say your best strategy right now would be to make yourself a cup of them and eat before you go. If you leave now with your hunger bar that low you could collapse halfway through.”

“Thank you for showing me the worst case scenario.”

“Oh, believe me, this isn't the worst I can imagine.” he smiles in a slightly creepy way, like someone who prides himself on predicting the worst. But then it goes back to normal. “Hey, it's just an offer. I'm going to make myself a cup now. If you'd like to come.”

You accept his offer and follow him into the kitchen. He asks you what kind of noodles you like best. If you ask him what kind of noodles he has, he will reply: "All kinds. Meh heh heh... Take a shot!" You say which one is your favourite. “IN STOCK NOW!” He says in his best Sam impersonation. It was so good that it surprised you and made you laugh.

He takes out two cups of your favourite noodles, one for you and one for him. He places them on the table where you sit while he goes to prepare the water in the electric kettle. He starts talking about the game you were playing together, but you're paying more attention to his small gesture of "making dinner" for you.

When he turns to you and sees your face, he shuts up and then says: “W-why are you looking at me like that? Has my hair turned a weird colour?” You chuckle but say no. “Then why that look?”

“Cause I think you're cute.” His hair does a PUFF in surprise and the ends of his hair turn pink and his face a little flushed. “Now yes, your hair is in a funny colour.” And you keep smiling at him.

“Meh heh... I may be a noob at this game but I still know how to play it.” He says, with a smirk and that confidence you only see once in a while.

“What do you mean?”

He puts his hands behind his back and slowly walks towards you while smirking. And you feel yourself blushing a little. When he gets in front of you he leans in, his face so close to yours that you almost feel hypnotized by his strong yellow eyes.

“Heh heh, looks like we're both cute when we're flattered.” He's speaking in that deep voice of his. “What's the matter? Not so confident when it's my turn?” He takes one of his hands to your face, thumb on one cheek, three fingers on the other and pinky under your chin, because his hand is relatively big compared to you. He's not hurting you, but he manages to gently get you to form your lips into a kiss pose. “(Y/N), dear, hon, you know very well at this point on a PvP between the both of us, I win. He he he...” he whispers, as he gets even closer “...cute...”

POP! He jumps and straightens up when startled by the electric kettle's signal that the water is already hot. And you laugh. He sulks, but turns and goes to get the water to put in your noodle cups.

Meanwhile, other Ignihyde students started to enter the kitchen to also prepare their dinners and eat. So, you couldn't continue your "little game".

You finish eating and he walks you out of the dorm.

“When can we do this again?” You ask before you leave.

“Well, that depends.” He answers. “When can I see you again?” and then he starts talking very fast. “I mean, I'm always at my room. In the best case scenario. You're the one who's always busy solving the problems of an incompetent headmage. And having fun with those two single brain celled of friends. And having meeting and stuff with the other housewordens. So, hey, you're the one who should text me whenever your free.”

That sounded a little suspicious, didn't it? You look around. You don't see anyone else but you two.

“Idia?... Was that a jealous speech?”

“What? Jealous? No, of course not.” He's still speaking quickly “This is just the speed up speech I use to spit facts and vent in someone's face with the expectation that even if they hear me they won't understand what I say and will just be confused and think I'm weird enough to leave me alone.”

“You want me to leave you alone?”

“W-wha- NO! I-I-I-...” He sees you start to lift the corners of your mouth. In fact, it's funny to see him flustered. “*Sigh*... It's a blessing and a curse to have a weirdo who can understand me even when I speak in my turbo speech mode.”

“I'll take that "weirdo" as a compliment.” you say, smirking.

“As you should.” He says, a little lower and with that sweet little smile. You cherish that smile until you remember what you two were talking about.

“I wish you would go out more often. Ortho too. Wouldn't you like to take a walk with me one day?”

“Surrounded by normies who wouldn't take their eyes off us? No thanks.” He says and you sulk. “Oh, come on. You know very well I'm not saying I don't want to be with you. I will not continue to fall on your sulking face.”

“But you didn't like the other times you left Ignihyde?”

“Oh yes. Being kidnapped by ghosts into a forced marriage was the most romantic experience I've ever had. Getting kidnapped to a Halloween party in the Spectral Realm and being possessed? What an adrenaline rush! Go to a camp and get kidnapped by Couch Vargas and forced to squad until my legs are in agony? The outdoor exercise I've been needing. I just realized I have a problem with being serial kidnapped.”

Even his sarcasm makes you laugh. “Can't say you don't have a point there. But what about the Halloween before you were kidnapped? For example?”

“Ah, what delightful visitors Magical Monsters are.”

“First, what about the normal visitors? Wasn't it good to see them appreciate your work? And second, you're not going to tell me you didn't enjoy terrorizing Magicam Monsters, are you?” He answers you with his smug smile. “And what about that gaming afternoon at Ramshackle Dorm? Everyone was so impressed with your gaming skills.” his sweet smile comes back. “Aaaaand...” you were going to play your trump card and you tried to imitate him in his fanboy mode “Epel's grandma is the inspiration for the team leader os the show I'm obsessed about? DUUUDE. SHE'S BEST GIRL BY FAR! Would you autograph my guidebook? And can I take a picture with you?!”

“OKAY OKAY, I GOT IT!” He was so embarrassed, for both of you. Fortunately, no one was there to see it. “And BTW, the show is called Sled Over Heels, the team is called Beauties Sleeping and the character is called Ai. Thank you very much.”

“Did you regret leaving the dorm that time?” you ask, knowing the answer. But he doesn't answer, he doesn't like to give the other person reason so soon. “Would you regret taking a walk with me one day?”

“Maybe.” He says, you sulk. “Not because of you, because of everyone and everything else. Can't we take this getting me out of the room thing slowly?”

“That reminds me of a phrase. Life is way too short to take it slow. But in your case, yes, we can take it slow. What if you come to Ramshackle Dorm and play together then? Maybe you can pet Grim.”

“That's very appealing. You're good with deal, I must say. Perhaps you can compete with Azul.”

“So, is that an yes?”

“*Sigh* Fine, I will... try.”

“Just try? What if i buy some candy?”

“Damn, you really are persistent. But since you're raising the offer” he smirks “what if I try to see how far it goes?”

“Do you want a kiss?” your cheekiness makes his hair explode in pink, and he blushes a lot.

“I-i-i-is that an a-actual offer?”

“Perhaps. But with such a high offer, do you really think just going to my dorm is enough?”

“Hum...” he thinks for a second. “How about that walk with you? There are not many people on the beach at this time of year.”

“But don't you need permission to leave college?”

“Heh heh heh. You remember who my family is right? Do you really think I can't bribe the headmage? As if it were difficult.”

You two were smiling like partners in crime.

“We have a deal then.” you say “so... what kind of kiss would you like?”

“Any one I want?”

“Any one you want.”

He looks around again, there's no one there, but he still pulls you into a corner. Lift your chin with his fingers and bring his face closer to yours. You were lit by blue and pink fire lights.

“Then why don't we finish what we started in the kitchen?”

You kiss him as your answer. You feel the warm his hair emits and his delicate but passionate lips on yours. You just broke away from the kiss early, because you were in a place where someone could show up at any moment.

When you get to Ramshackle Dorm, you find Grim and Ortho sleeping on the couch in the Lounge. The ghosts tell you that Ortho showed up there to keep Grim company and feed him dinner. He got some cans of tuna for himself. They also say that Ortho commented that his batteries were running low when he went into sleep or economy mode.

You wake Ortho up gently. And asks if he wants to spend the night there. You can arrange a place for him.

“It's ok. I was saving my energies to have enough to go back to Ignihyde anyway.”

He really wants to ask how the afternoon went with his brother, but it's late and he can ask you the next day. Or simply see in what mood Idia is in when he gets to their bedroom.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

ABOUT THE SONG: "When Can I See You Again?" is one of the 3 theme songs from Disney's 2012 animated feature film, Wreck-It Ralph. It is an uptempo dance-pop and synthpop song written and performed by Owl City.

The song is played during the credits showing Ralph, Felix, Vanellope, and Calhoun's game-jumping adventures.

The song is the main theme of the Paint the Night parade at Disneyland and Hong Kong Disneyland, and is played at the end of Move It! Shake It! Dance and Play It!.

SOURCE

#Twisted Wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst wonderland #twst fluf #Twisted Wonderland Fluf #Idia Shroud #Idia Shroud x Reader #Idia x Reader #briarvalleyarchives #Anthems of Old #twst fluff

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a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual · 2 years

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More ROTTMNT headcanons:

So it’s evident that Donnie doesn’t like to be touched unless he initiates it (with some exceptions like when Mikey and April hug him or when Leo leans on him)

But when Donnie is sleep deprived he’s a clingy little shit

God forbid you get within 5 feet of him because he will launch himself at you and latch on

Now this isn’t a problem for Raph and Leo they’re both taller than him and can lift him with relative ease

Splinter, Mikey, and April on the other hand…. not so much

Don't get me wrong they’re all buff as fuck but their height kind of bites them in the ass

Do y’all remember that scene in Lilo and Stitch when Nani is putting her entire body weight on Lilo

Think that but 10x’s worse because even though Donnie is built like cilantro his tech is heavy as hell

And he will force you to carry that weight by yourself

It’s not uncommon for the boys to hear “if someone doesn’t get this twig bug off me in 5 seconds I’m gonna get my bat” coming from the living room

And because Leo is an amazing brother (and not touch starved at all) he will give Donnie piggyback rides around the house when he’s tired

Leo can stay awake without help for a stupid amount of time

Like I’m talking actual days in a row

Donnie wants to be jealous but then he remembers that Leo tends to pass out around the house

One second he’s energetic and bouncing off the walls and the next he’s passed out on the floor

The first time this happened Splinter almost had a heart attack

After that, they started putting mats and bean bags around the house

And he’s usually able to make it…. Usually

Donnie had a folder saved on his laptop and it’s just a compilation of Leo faceplanting

Leo and Donnie came up with all of the nicknames in the show

They were like 5 years old when they decided that saying everyone's full name was a pain in the ass

So they spent like half an hour coming up with new and exciting nicknames

But there are some nicknames that the others can’t use

Nardo and Tello are theirs and theirs alone

The singular time someone else tried to use those nicknames the twins looked at them funny for a solid minute

No one used them again after that

Leo used to call Donnie “Donbon” but once April showed up he stopped

He didn’t want to but Donnie used to get embarrassed when the nickname was used

The only time he uses it is when he’s really tired or really sad

Sometimes Donnie will get stuck in the zone and he won't come out of his lab for anything

And when those times hit all Leo has to do is walk over to him and go “Donbon the guys are starting to get worried”

And Donnie will sigh and complain that Leo is interrupting his very important work but he’ll still leave the lab and socialize like a normal person

When Mikey was really little he couldn't pronounce his brother's names so he called him “Lee” “Dee” and “Rrrrrrr” (he would just roll his r’s to call Raph over)

And he will still occasionally use those nicknames especially if he wants to make the group laugh

He gave April her very own “Mikey approved nickname”

“Aaaaa” he usually says it in a very quiet and monotone voice and it never fails to make April giggle

For a solid three years of their friendship, April thought Raphs name was Ralph and no one corrected her

It wasn’t until Splinter got mad and called them all by their full names that April realized her mistake

And she’s still embarrassed to this day

Sometimes Leo’s ADHD makes him very irritable

The little things like his phone charger breaking and the tag on his pajamas being itchy will just stack up

And next thing you know he’s in a really bad mood

Most of the time he tries to hide it but his siblings are always able to tell a difference

And then they ask a million questions which just makes his mood worse

And then he snaps and suddenly no one is happy

Leo feels guilty that he snapped at them and they feel guilty for overwhelming him

But no matter what the day always ends with them all in the living room in a big cuddle pile watching their favorite Jupiter Jim movies

#rottmnt #Rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt headcanons #rottmnt leo #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt raph #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt april #disaster twins #these losers mean so much to me #god I love this stupid family #save rottmnt #go watch season 1 on Netflix #and the movie

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girlactionfigure · 19 days

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THURSDAY HERO: Mildred Harnack

Mildred “Mili” Harnack was a writer and academic from Wisconsin who moved to Berlin with her German husband in 1930. As Hitler rose to power, Mili created the largest resistance group in Nazi Germany and was targeted for execution by the Fuhrer himself.

Mili was born Mildred Fish in Milwaukee in 1902. Her father William was a teacher, and her mother Georgina was an activist for women’s suffrage. Mili had a natural facility with languages, and was fluent in German by the time she reached adulthood. Throughout her life, Mili loved German literature and culture. She attended the University of Wisconsin in Madison, where she majored in English literature. Mili lived in a rooming house popular with writers, and worked as a film and drama critic for a local newspaper.

After receiving her BA, Mili went on to earn an MA in English in 1925. The next year she moved back to Milwaukee and worked as a lecturer at the Milwaukee State Normal School (now the University of Wisconsin – Milwaukee.) She met Arvid Harnack, a German economist and lawyer who was studying at the university on a Rockefeller fellowship. Arvid was from a prominent family of German intellectuals. After a whirlwind love affair, they were married in August 1926 at her brother’s farm. Arvid’s fellowship ended and he returned to Germany, followed by Mili the year later, after she completed a teaching session at Goucher College in Baltimore.

In Germany, Mili worked on her doctoral thesis and lectured at universities in German cities Jena and Giessen. The country was plunging deeper into political turmoil, and the Nazi party was rising to power amid the chaos. More than half of Mili’s students were outspoken Nazis. She moved to Berlin in 1930 to be with her husband, and began working as an assistant lecturer in English and American literature at the University of Berlin. Mili lectured about her favorite English and American writers including Ralph Waldo Emerson, Walt Whitman, Thomas Hardy and George Bernard Shaw. She was so popular with students that in just a year and a half, enrollment in the class tripled.

Mili connected with other American expatriates in Berlin and formed a literary salon where anti-Nazi academics and intellectuals could express themselves freely. By 1934, the Nazi secret police were everywhere and the salon was disbanded. Fellow ex-pat Martha Dodd, a close friend of Mili’s, later described her Berlin salon as “the last of the meager remnants of free thought.” Many of those who had participated in the salons continued to meet in the Harnacks’ living room but instead of discussing literature, they planned anti-Nazi political activism

Meanwhile, Mili achieved renown as a writer. She published essays in prominent German literary journals until the mid-30’s, when magazines started to print only “approved opinions” (in support of Hitler). She was able to continue working as a translator, and her German-language translation of Irving Stone’s biography of Vincent van Gogh, Lust for Life, was published in 1936.

Mili returned to the U.S. on a book tour in 1937, and her old friends were shocked at the drastic change in her personality. Earlier she had been friendly and easy-going, but four years living under Nazi rule made Mili anxious, stiff and guarded. She’d had to wear a metaphorical mask to survive in the totalitarian German state, and couldn’t shed the mask even when she left Europe. Mili’s family urged her to stay in the U.S. but she was determined to return to her husband and her political activism group, now called “The Circle.”

Mili’s unassuming manner combined with an extremely sharp intellect enabled her to penetrate the highest circles of German politics and diplomacy. She used these connections to get exit and travel visas for Jewish friends and colleagues, among them prominent publisher Max Tau. Mili also surreptitiously gleaned information from highly placed contacts, which she transmitted to fellow members of the resistance.

Mildred was fired from her teaching job at the University of Berlin because of her political beliefs, and she began teaching at night school, where her students were mostly working class or unemployed. She recruited many of them to join The Circle. The group published anti-Nazi leaflets, written by Mildred, and secretly left stacks of them in public places throughout the city.

German intelligence called them “the Red Orchestra” and falsely smeared them as communists working for the Soviets. Undeterred, the group increased their activities and cooperated with other resistance units. Around this time Mili wrote, “I saw it clearly before my eyes. From then on our work not only implies the risk of losing our freedom, from now on death was a possibility.” Led by Mili, The Circle became the largest resistance group in Nazi Germany. They incited civil disobedience against the Nazi regime, documented Nazi atrocities, and transmitted military intelligence to the Allies.

In the summer of 1942, the Nazis intercepted radio transmissions that revealed the identity of prominent resistance fighters including the Harnacks. On September 7, Mili and Arvid were arrested by the Gestapo and imprisoned. Arvid was tried by the Reich Military Tribunal and sentenced to death on December 19. He was hanged three days later at Plotzensee Prison.

Mili languished in a squalid prison cell for months, where she was tortured and contracted tuberculosis. She went on trial and was sentenced to six years in prison. However, Hitler heard about the American woman who fought so effectively against his regime, and he ordered a new trial for Mili. The kangaroo court delivered a pre-determined death sentence, and at Hitler’s explicit request Mili was beheaded by guillotine on February 16, 1943. Her last words were, “And I have loved Germany so much!” After her execution, Mili’s body was given to an anatomy professor at Humboldt University to dissect for research. After he finished, he gave the rest of her remains to a friend of hers, who had Mili buried in Zehlendorf Cemetery in Berlin.

The only writing that survived from her time in prison were a few translated lines from Goethe: “In all the frequent troubles of our days/A God gave compensation – more his praise/In looking sky-and heavenward as duty/In sunshine and in virtue and in beauty.”

Mildred’s brave actions and tragic death have not been forgotten. In Berlin, a street and a school are named for her, and in her native Wisconsin schools observe Mildred Fish Harnack Day. The University of Wisconsin-Madison hosts an annual Mildred Fish-Harnack Human RIghts and Democracy Lecture, and a sculpture of Mili was unveiled in Madison in 2019.

For fighting Hitler at the cost of her own life, we honor Mildred Harnack as this week’s Thursday Hero.

Image: Gestapo mug shots of Mildred taken after her arrest in 1942.

#Thursday Hero 🎖️

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missjaystone · 6 months

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Promotion

Summary: Chef Julian Slowik sets his sights on making you something more than his next sous chef. Pairing: Julian Slowik x Reader Word Count: 1,710

Kink Prompt: Power Play | Dom/Sub Warnings: Slight dubcon/coercion, power imbalance, dom/sub tones, hints of (and obvious) sexual harassment.

A/N: I wrote this for me. I am the one who wants to get fucked by Ralph Fiennes's character in The Menu. I am my own target audience.

Standing tall and silent to the side, Chef Julian's all-seeing eyes burned holes into the back of your head. He watched every move you made like a hawk. He made his way around the kitchen slowly, making sure everyone was doing exactly what they were supposed to. You were leaning over the counter with tweezers to place the garnishes around the plate before you when you felt his presence behind you. "Good steady hand." Julian compliments coolly. "Thank you, chef." You respond without stopping or taking your eyes off the dish in front of you. It's a miracle you didn't jump when he put a hand on your hip. His hand stayed on your hip as you put the tiniest pieces of the dish into place, even going so far as to step up until he was pressing himself against you, making sure you felt his erection. A shiver ran up your spine as he leaned over you, further pressing his hardness into your backside. You didn't object at all at the contact, you'd seen what happened to the people who rejected Chef Slowik and you were determined to not end up like them. "When dinner finishes and I dismiss the others, stay in the kitchen." He orders. "Yes, chef." You say with a slight tremble in your voice. All the other chefs were too busy focusing on perfecting their own plates to pay any mind to the suggestive position Julian put you both in.

Dinner proceeded as usual, without further contact from Julian. Once everyone was fed and sent away, the rest of the staff began returning the kitchen to its spotless state, wrapping up at 2:30 in the morning. "Everyone can leave. Get some rest before tomorrow." Julian dismisses before turning his gaze to you. "Except you." Now that nobody was busy, you felt everyone's eyes on you as they filed out of the kitchen, leaving only you and Chef Slowik in the pristine kitchen. "How long have you been cooking?" He asks you. "Since I was a child, chef." You answer. "It was my duty as the oldest to take care of my siblings when my parents couldn't or wouldn't." "Do you enjoy it?" He questions. "Immensely, chef. What started as my duty became my passion. I can't do anything besides cook." You answer calmly. "That's not entirely true. You can follow orders better than the others. You can present better than them, you can work harder than them. I believe you are better than them." Julian states. "How would you like to be my new sous?" He offers. It's a miracle you manage to keep your jaw off the floor when you answer him. "That would be the opportunity of a lifetime, Chef. I'd be honored."

"I expect more from my sous than the other chefs, you know." He warns. "I expect my sous to follow my orders to a T, to go the extra mile to make sure Hawthorne runs smoothly, to do as I say without questioning or arguing with me. Do you think you can do that?" He asks, stepping up to tower over you. "Yes, Chef." You say with a nod. "Then get on your knees." His voice was atonal, devoid of any emotion, almost to the point of being robotic. He said it like it was any other order in the kitchen. There's only a split second of hesitation before you sink to your knees before him. "Do you know what I want from you?" Julian asks, tilting your chin up to meet his dark blue eyes. "You want me to prove I'll do whatever you ask of me, regardless of what it is, Chef." You answer. "Smart girl." Julian hums in approval, running his thumb along your bottom lip in a silent quest for access. Your lips parted just enough to take his thumb into your mouth before wrapping your lips around it. He watches intently as you suck on the digit, only to abruptly pull it out after a few moments. He kept a close eye on your hands as they undid his belt and zipper, fishing his rock-hard cock out without so much as a single tremble.

Julian's breathing catches slightly in his throat when you lean forward and take the head of his member into your mouth, moving slowly just like you had with his thumb before he took it away. With a steady grip on his base, you began slowly bobbing your head, taking him into your mouth little by little. His eyes fluttered shut with each. A small groan escaped Julian's lips when he felt his head hit the back of your throat. "You can do it." He hums when you gag around him, and the way he says it makes it sound like more of a general statement, a fact even, and less of an encouragement. When you didn't move fast enough for his liking, he frowned. "You will do it or you won't be in my kitchen much longer." He said more firmly. You give a slight nod and take a deep breath through your nose before taking his length into your throat. You bobbed your head and relaxed your throat, taking in more of him with each bob of your head until your nose touched his pubic bone and you gagged. Julian let out quiet noises as you worked, bobbing your head along his length with garbled noises, letting your tongue trace the vein on the underside of his cock. This continued for a few minutes before he tangled his fingers in your hair tightly and pulled you off of him.

Lust entirely darkened his eyes when he tilted your head up to look at him. "Get up and bend over the counter." He says in the same voice he'd used to send you to your knees. You wordlessly scramble to your feet and turn around, but he stops you from bending over. "Undress first." You don't trust your voice to speak for you, so you just give a nod and strip down to your underwear. A small, genuine smile crossed his features as he watched you. "Perfect." He mutters. He easily maneuvers your pliant body until you're bent over the counter. "You'll be a good sous... but an even better partner," Julian says as he runs his hand down the curve of your spine until he reaches your ass. "P-Partner?" You question, your voice faltering when he pulls your underwear down until the flimsy fabric falls slack and drops to your ankles. "That's right." He nods, stepping up behind you and teasingly running the head of his member through your wet petals.

"Do you want to know why I've picked you specifically?" Julian asks, dragging his tip through your folds until it catches on your entrance. "Why-" Your question is cut off when he leans over you, slowly pushing his member into your waiting opening. "Because you're obedient and eager to please," Julian whispers, kissing the shell of your ear softly. "I picked you because you are submissive." He states as he bottoms out. "You crave having orders to follow, being told what to do, and I'm going to be the one to give that to you." He husks as he slowly begins to thrust his hips. He talks over your moans. "You aren't just like the others, you're more special than them, more talented, more intelligent, more devout. You are better than them." He says as he thrusts into you. You gripped the edge of the counter as his thrusts quickly went from slow and easy to fast and almost punishing, each one forcing a moan out of your throat. Julian tangles his fingers in your hair and turns your head to the side enough to press his lips to yours in a heated, commanding kiss, biting your bottom lip slightly. That hand stayed tangled in your hair, holding your lips to his while the other left your ass to give your clit some rough attention. He angles his hips some until he finds your G-spot, reveling in the louder moan you let out.

"J-Julian..." You stammer breathlessly between your moans. "Not yet." He hisses as he bucks his hips into you, furiously chasing his release. The edge of the counter was beginning to painfully dig into your hips with each rough snap of his hips. The closer you get to your impending orgasm, the more your vision blurs and fills with stars. The combination of Julian's thrusts, his attention to your sensitive clit, and the way he tugged your hair was quickly bringing you closer to the edge you were determined not to fall off of just yet. Every movement of his was hellbent on seeing if you could follow his order. "See? You crave not disappointing me." He whispers smugly in your ear as he nears his climax. "Go on, pet, let go and come for me." Julian orders. It sends a chill through your body as you cave beneath him, letting go and moaning out his name as white-hot bliss overtakes every fiber of your being. Julian falls over the edge right on the tail end of your orgasm, letting out an almost primal-sounding moan as he buries himself to the hilt before filling you with his release.

His grip on you loosens when your orgasms subside. You shudder some at the feeling of his spend dripping down your thighs. Julian smirks at the reaction while tucking himself back into his pants. He grabs one of the nearby dish towels and almost gently cleans up the mess between your legs. "Tomorrow, you can move your things into my home." He states. "Y-Yes, Chef." You mumble with a nod. Julian cups your cheeks and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead before planting another to your lips. "You will be phenomenal as my sous, as my partner, and as other things to come." He says with a smile. "Thank you, Chef Slowik." You say almost numbly as your mind processes everything that just happened. "Please, you can call me Julian when it's just us," He says jovially. "Thank you, Julian." You correct yourself. "Anything for you, my dear," Julian says with a smile, pressing another kiss to your lips.

I also wrote this for @bdffkierenwalker because she has been an amazing friend and always encourages me to write things that I want to write.

#The Menu #Julian Slowik #Chef Julian Slowik #Chef Slowik #Julian Slowik x Reader #Chef Slowik x Reader #Julian Slowik Smut #Chef Slowik Smut #The Menu Smut #Ralph Fiennes #Kinktober

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bitterkarella · 3 months

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Midnight Pals: 42nd Street

Preston Fassel: Submitted for the approval of the Midnight Society, I call this the tale of 42nd Street Fassel: ahhh New York's 42nd Street! Fassel: [rubbing hands in delight] Just as rancidly rotten as I remember!

Fassel: 42nd st in the 70s Fassel: the greatest hive of scum and villainy on the planet Fassel: just a big bubbling cauldron of slime and sleaze Fassel: just a raw teeming itching hole of depravity Fassel: just a Ralph Bakshian pornocopia of steaming slutmuffery

Fassel: the big theaters on 42nd street show only the finest filth Fassel: like 'The Disembowling IV' and 'Monster Titties-A-Go-Go' Fassel: but you can barely see the screen for all the garbage & the junkies & possibly the bodies of dead hoboes Poe: wait is this story appropriate for dean

Koontz: stop it edgar i'm not a baby! >:C Koontz: i'm just as big as the rest of you! Barker: yeah edgar let him hear it Poe: clive don't be an instigator Poe: you know how dean gets Barker: let him hear it, he'll be fine Barker: our little man's gotta grow up sometime

Poe: i'm just concerned it might be a little much for dean Poe: is there gore in this? Fassel: oh yeah lots Poe: and drugs? Fassel: so much drugs Poe: and porn? Fassel: the most Poe: what about dead dogs? Fassel: nope Poe: no? Poe: ok never mind i guess its fine then

Fassel: so there's this projectionist and he's got a cursed snuff film King: wow! this story sounds great! John Carpenter: a cursed snuff film? i already did this story and you all hated it! King: well, now we like it Carpenter: Carpenter: son of a

Fassel: when a man has jerked off to everything Fassel: and it seems like the world holds no more pleasures for him to jerk off to Barker: oh man, big mood Fassel: and the only solution is to make a deal with the powers beyond for a new drug Barker: oh man, BIG MOOD

Fassel: the projectionist is just absolutely obsessed with the girl in the snuff film Fassel: he would do anything for her Koontz: does he find her? do they get together? Fassel: Fassel: um Fassel: you want to know if he gets together? Koontz: yeah! Fassel: with the girl in the snuff film? Koontz: yeah! Fassel: do you know what a snuff film is, dean? Koontz: yeah! Poe: he doesn't preston Koontz: shut up! i do! i'm smart too!

#midnight pals #the midnight society #midnight society #clive barker #edgar allan poe #dean koontz #preston fassel #john carpenter

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ralphthestupidwhitecat · 4 months

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pov ur the last pigg im blankit

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ultraericthered · 5 months

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A tale of two evil Disney kings.

I put this out not to make any statement about how one villain compares to the other, but to compare how similar in the spirit and the details of their evilness these two are; the last straight up Big Bad of a Disney animated movie before the next decade and the first straight up Big Bad of a Disney animated movie we've gotten since.

And I also want to touch upon something that confounds me.

King Magnifico, despite the film teasing at him being a nuanced and even sympathetic character at first, ended up becoming a villain vile and irredeemably heinous enough to be upvoted as a Complete Monster on TV Tropes. Majority vote approved, so that's fair. ...But Turbo, the dude with a similar rap sheet, is still not only ruled a non-example, he's in the "never to be discussed again" category for all the nixing of adding him to the trope ever since 2012. Because why, exactly? I am legitimately finding no good justification for this now.

Turbo locked away his subjects' memories within Sugar Rush's code without giving them any say on the matter (whereas with Magnifico it's at least a contractual arrangement between him and the people who give their wishes to him), and while the Sugar Rush characters don't appear to be acting all that off in any way besides not remembering Vanellope, no one in Rosas really seems to be suffering, depressed, dispirited, and poor off from having given up their wishes and forgotten about them either: it's a frequent criticism that they all seem to happy and prospering, and that the bad side of Magnifico's reign is more told to us than shown. The suffering only really visibly occurs on-screen when Magnifico takes and breaks the wishes (though even then it's written off as "making people feel sad" by a lot of watchers, so it's not easy to argue it's all that heinous). And sure, Turbo's manipulation of Ralph left Ralph with more of a choice to make regarding Vanellope's cart and her ability to race compared to Magnifico with Simon, but that could be argued to make Turbo that much more insidious and reprehensible in his approach.

And then we have Cy-Bug Turbo vocally making clear his intent to overtake all games in the arcade he chooses and forcing Ralph to watch the Cybugs attack Vanellope, comparable to Magnifico vocally making clear his intent to break all wishes in Rosas in order to enslave the despirited masses forever and forcing them all to watch him torture Asha. Yes, the latter might hit harder since it's such a betrayal of all the people he was supposed to be protecting and caring for, but that doesn't make Turbo's climactic villainy any less heinous. Turbo lacks magic powers, he's just a program who overrode that of a Cy-Bug and intends to make full use of the bug's capabilities to infect the lifeblood of other games and to physically harm others, namely Ralph, who he tells straight to his face that he wants to kill. And like Magnifico with the dark magic tome, Turbo's code merging with the Cy-Bug doesn't destroy his moral agency, it only makes him into a more unhinged, unfiltered and destructive version of the same cruel, egomaniacal asshole he already was. The fact that he uses the words "virus", "arcade", and "game" in the same sentence proves he's not merely another instinctive Cy-Bug; he knows exactly what he's doing, and sets out to hurt countless others knowing that he's hurting them not caring, and even relishing it.

Well at least we have other trope wikis to look to if we wish to find Turbo under his rightful classification. He is a Complete Monster, period. With the raw deal TV Tropes has given him for over a whole decade, he's the one who should sing "This Is The Thanks I Get?"

Yes, I am aware that the Complete Monster trope is not a badge of honor or trophy for whatever villain ends up on it,

No, I could not pass up this image.

#Disney #Wreck-It Ralph #Wish #disney villains #Turbo #King Candy #King Magnifico #comparison #TV Tropes #references #pure evil #complete monster #double standards #hypocrisy #stupidity #TV Tropes NUTJOBS!

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petalsthings · 2 months

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Ok but I’ll never understand why so many ppl portray Jack as the head over heels pining mess and Ralph as the one who doesn’t care and just rolls his eyes like HUHHH

Ralph was throughout the entire book fond of Jack, the idea of Jack hating him genuinely shocked him and made him upset (and Jack was already pretty off the rails at that point). When Jack left the group Ralph was so distraught, trying to convince himself Jack would come back eventually. Even at the very end he still wanted to save him (and everyone else).

Ralph admires Jack, he likes him and enjoys his company, making it hurt more when Jack starts hating him. (like that “why do you hate me?” line)

They both wanted the others approval, but it was Jack who towards the end started to see Ralph as just an obstacle for full control. Which is why it surprises me that so many people think of Ralph as being the one who is indifferent and dismissive

#lord of the flies #lotf #lotf fandom #lotf ralph #lotf jack #lotf jalph #jalph #idk if I’m explaining this right #little disheveled #so bare with me lol #sorry don’t want this to come off as mean #pls feel free to interpret them however u like :)

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rrcenic · 7 months

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lotf script info!!

i’m really enjoying reading this play :) there are some major differences from the book though

-jack HATES simon. hates him more than anyone else

-roger is NOT from the choir, samneric are

-piggy is mostly made fun of not for his size, specs, or “assma” (not ass-mar), but for his cockney accent

-piggy’s actually kinda stupid. simons the nerdy one, once called professor cambourne by jack

-simon genuinely thinks he’s from another planet

-simon canonically has fits where he hallucinates

-maurice’s last name is walsh?!??

-when simon meets roger, he asks what school he goes to. roger says “a nowhere school” and simon flirtatiously replies “i thought i’d seen you before”. jack then mocks simon for his prophetic dreams??

-ralph plays the flute!

-maurice and bill and ralph play rugby. simon doesn’t like it

-piggy goes to barnabas high, ralph goes to upton, and jack + the choir go to godstone

btw i got the script for like 10 bucks on amazon. it’s by nigel williams and was the only lotf play officially approved by william golding

#nics stuff #lotf #lotf play #lord of the flies #lotf lore #nigel williams

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legendary-defender-of-fandoms · 1 month

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You want to know the worst thing about Ralph Breaks the Internet?

It wasn’t the already-dated Internet jokes & references - we all knew going in that stuff was never going to work.

It wasn’t the new characters - honestly, they’re all fine (except maybe Double Dan - Alfred Molina deserves better!).

It wasn’t the exclusion of Felix & Calhoun (my delusional ass is still waiting for a short film about the two raising the Sugar Rush racers.)

It wasn’t even the thousands of details they ignored, retconned, or forgot from the original Wreck-it Ralph (Fix-it Felix Jr. was THIRTY years old when Ralph met Vanellope, Vanellope ABDICATED HER THRONE in favor of a constitutional democracy so everyone in Sugar Rush would have a say in how the game was run, Sugar Rush was a two-seater racing game, etc.)

No, the absolute, positively, undeniably worst thing Ralph Breaks the Internet did was tarnish & distort Ralph so thoroughly it made us all question if the original movie was even that good to begin with.

Everything else in Ralph Breaks the Internet could be forgiven or overlooked. But what they did to Ralph is just baffling. He was never going to be mistaken for a Rhodes scholar in the first movie, but he WAS smarter than the doofus who couldn’t even name a graduation cap in the sequel.

Wasn’t he?

And he wasn’t a gross slob by choice - he HATED living in the dump (I believe his exact words were “NOT cool! Unhygienic, and lonely! And boring.”) but he was kind of stuck there because the game literally left him nowhere else to stay. That’s why in the epilogue he decided to finally make something of his situation by building himself a proper shack instead of just camping on the bricks.

Wasn’t it?

And Ralph had many flaws in the first film - he had a short temper, he was a little clumsy, he broke things by accident just because he was a little too strong or things weren’t made for someone with his physical abilities in mind, he was stubborn, he had a one-track mind and couldn’t be deterred from his short-term goals no matter the long-term consequences. But the one thing he WASN’T was insecure. He knew his own strengths & weaknesses, and he wasn’t trying to change himself to win anyone’s approval. He was just trying to find VALIDATION, a way to satisfy the small-minded Nicelanders and prove to them (and himself) that he had value as he was.

Wasn’t he?

I’m terrified to rewatch the original movie now because I’m afraid the Wreck-it Ralph in my head is based on lies & fanfics, and the real Wreck-it Ralph was ALWAYS some insecure doofus with no accountability or self reflection.

And you know the absolutely insane part? Disney is doing their absolute darndest to pretend Ralph doesn’t exist. AND HE’S THE TITLE CHARACTER OF HIS OWN IP!!!!! There’s a new chapter book series about Vanellope & some of the Sugar Rush Racers getting stuck in a little girl’s tablet, and Ralph’s ONLY appearance so far is a line-drop in the first book when Vanellope says she left him sleeping in Game Central Station while all the consoles were unplugged for a remodeling of Litwak’s Arcade. WHAT THE FUCK?!?! Remember how EVERYONE in the first movie lost their shit at the possibility of their game being unplugged, treating it like an Apocalypse? Remember how even the sequel did a halfway decent job reminding folks that having a game unplugged was a Big Deal? Now everyone’s just chill axing on vacation in Game Central Station (which is NOT BIG ENOUGH to hold every single game character - it could barely fit the Sugar Rush citizens when they got unplugged) and Ralph is snoozing in a corner while his daughter is accidentally whisked away to some girl’s tablet.

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!?!

The Wreck-it Ralph from the first movie wouldn’t be asleep in a corner when he could be spending time with Vanellope. And THAT man would go through Hell & high water to find her! While Vanellope & her gang are helping Molly (the kid with the tablet) learn about friendship & camping or whatever, Ralph should be an absolute MENACE online, tearing through every website, personal device, and Cloud account looking for his little girl!

Right? Wrong?

Did we all delude ourselves into thinking Ralph was deeper than he was intended to be? Or does Disney just hate Wreck-it Ralph now? And if it’s the latter, why? WHY do they hate him? Why do they want US to not care about him? Is it because he’s the last of the Lasseter projects? Did John C. Reilly and Bob Iger have some sort of falling-out? Did the FANBASE do something to put Disney staff off from ever wanting to do anything with Wreck-it Ralph ever again?

I think I could move on if I knew for certain whether Disney actively sabotaged Wreck-it Ralph with his sequel & subsequent exclusions from merchandise & multi-IP projects, or if I was just crazy for ever liking this character or his movie to begin with. It’s the not knowing that kills me.

#disney #wreck it Ralph #wir #Ralph breaks the Internet #RBTI #it’s over isn’t it #why can’t I move on #rant #rambling #someone please tell me if I’m crazy #or spill ALL the tea about that sequel

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wheels-of-despair · 1 year

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Worth It | Ralph Penbury x You | Masterlist

{<-Previous} [The Dance] {Next->}

Summary: Your mother forces you to go to a Valentine's Day dance with a dull date, but Ralph manages to make your night worthwhile. Words: 2k

Note: This is a new and improved version of a Valentine's Day story that was originally a one-shot, but somehow it grew into a 40k word series containing 20 chapters. This story will not contain smut, but Ralph and I would still prefer it if anyone interacting was a confirmed adult. Please note that Worth It lives on a blog that blocks blank and ageless accounts, so if you are interacting with it, your age needs to be in your bio.

"Hello! You look simply radiant this morning. I hate to bother you, but I wondered, would you care to attend the Valentine's Day Dance with me?" He spoke so quickly, it took you a moment to process it all.

You'd just stepped outside your front gate, on your way to mail a letter to your aunt, and Ralph Penbury was suddenly right there in front of you, as if he'd been waiting behind a shrub for you to appear.

"Oh, I'm… I'm sorry, Ralph. I wish I could, but someone else is taking me." His face fell and turned red.

"I'm so sorry for bothering you, I hope you have a fabulous time," he said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster, which wasn't much, and then turned on his heel and scurried away.

"Ralph…" you called at his retreating back, wanting to explain. "Ralph!" He pretended not to hear, darting to the other side of the street so fast that you had no hopes of catching him.

You wish he'd asked you three days earlier.

You'd met the Penburys a few years ago. You were slightly older than the twins, but your mothers were part of the same social club, so you often ended up mingling at the events they dragged you to.

Victoria was loud, brash, and unbearable. The most self-centered person you'd ever met. Victoria dominated every conversation, and had no qualms about using her shrill voice to interrupt, should the subject not please her. You'd spent many an event thinking about bludgeoning her to death with various objects in your vicinity. Candlesticks. The base of a festive floral centerpiece. The chair she was sitting in. Her own shoe.

Her brother Ralph, however, fascinated you. Mostly because he hadn't smothered her in her sleep yet. The willpower that must've taken! Ralph was a true gentleman. And he was pretty funny too, on the rare occasion he was able to get a word in. He smiled often, and his eyes would shine with excitement when the conversation turned to something that interested him. (Not that he was ever allowed to chime in.) Sometimes he tried so hard to keep in an outburst, he would literally shake. He reminded you of an excited puppy; sweet, innocent, and in desperate need of someone to play with. If only you could get him away from his sister long enough to get to know him.

On the night of the Valentine's Day dance, your mother flitted and fussed about you more than usual, making sure every last detail of the silky pink dress that she'd commissioned especially for you was absolutely perfect.

You hated it.

The doorbell rang, and your mother clasped her hands and nearly fainted with excitement. You tried very hard not to roll your eyes. Checking that every hair on your head was still perfectly in place, your mother finally gave you a nod of approval, and led the way downstairs to meet Donald Andrews in the entrance hall.

You hated him.

This nightmare was entirely your meddling mother's doing. She'd had a hand in every detail of this night, from the venue her club had booked for the dance, to the boring boy escorting you there, to the shop he'd purchased your flowers from.

You hated her.

He stood there smiling stupidly in his freshly pressed suit, back straight, blonde hair plastered down, holding two matching bouquets: one for you, and one for your mother. He greeted her first, handing her a tacky bouquet with a flourish. She giggled like a schoolgirl.

You hated them both.

You'd suffered through exactly one dance with the most boring boy you'd ever met before retreating to a table and drowning your sorrows in whatever kind of non-alcoholic punch the responsible adults chaperoning this event had provided.

Donald's friends and their dates came to rest at your table between dances. Every single girl asked why you weren't dancing with your dreamy date. You told them you'd twisted your ankle during the first dance. An outright lie, but Donald, ever the boring gentleman, wouldn't dispute it. You glanced at the clock and heaved a sigh.

You passed the evening by discovering creative ways to fold your napkin, ignoring the crowd of Donald's gossiping friends around you until they suddenly fell silent.

You looked up to see what had caught their attention.

Ralph Penbury, dressed in a fancy new suit, was asking a pretty redhead to dance on the other side of the room. He was so excited, or perhaps so nervous, he was shaking. You thought it was adorable. They'd make a cute couple.

The girl threw her head back and laughed, then turned back to her friends. Ralph stood there, looking crushed. You felt your own heart drop, as if you'd been the one on the receiving end of this rejection. What was wrong with her? Could she not see how precious this sweet boy was? Then Donald Andrews and all his idiotic friends roared with laughter, and your sadness turned to rage.

Ralph looked up and saw the table guffawing in his direction, and he froze. You stood up suddenly, knocking your chair over, and started weaving your way through the buffoons. Your elbow caught the back of several heads in your haste to get away from them. You hoped it hurt. Ralph had turned to leave by the time you escaped the tangle of limbs surrounding your table. Dodging dancing couples in the center of the room, you didn't take your eyes off of him.

He was nearly at the exit by the time you caught up with him, still walking slowly with his head down.

"Ralph?" you asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. He turned to face you, eyes brimming with tears. Your heart felt like it could burst.

"Don't pay those idiots any mind," you said gently. "They all share a single brain, and whoever was supposed to have custody of it tonight must've left it at home." He giggles, causing a single tear to spill over. He wipes it away quickly.

"Are you leaving? I was hoping I could ask you for a dance before you go. Or maybe we could go sit outside for a while and cool off?" You may hate these events, but you know he loves them. You wouldn't let those blockheads ruin his Valentine's Day.

"Really?" He sounds hopeful. You smile and nod, waiting for him to make the next move.

He returns your smile and extends his hand. You place your palm in his and give it a squeeze, letting him lead you back onto the dance floor. The song is a slow one, which is nice, because this is the longest you've ever managed to get him alone. You'd never realized how eager you were to talk to him.

A moment of silence passes as you get situated and begin to dance, but it's not an uncomfortable one; just two casual acquaintances getting used to being so close to each other.

"Your date looks angry. Should I have asked his permission?" He asks with a worried glance to his left.

You let out a laugh, a genuine laugh, the first of its kind all day.

"That boy is the dullest creature I have ever encountered." Ralph looks confused, so you continue. "My mother set all this up. That's what I was trying to tell you the day you asked me to come with you. She accepted his invitation on my behalf. Picked out this hideous dress and the torturous shoes that go with it. This is all her doing. If I had my way, I'd be at home, reading in my pajamas."

"Why?"

"Why would I rather be at home reading in my pajamas?"

"Why did she make you come with someone you don't like?"

"I think he's her last hope." You sigh. "You see, Ralph, my mother's greatest fear is not war or famine or even snakes. Her greatest fear is that I wind up a spinster like my Aunt Molly. Who is doing quite well for herself, by the way! Large house all to herself… an impressive library… several cats to choose from when she needs a cuddle…" You trail off and sigh dramatically in the direction of the chandelier, with a dreamy look on your face, hoping you've amused him.

He laughs, the trauma of a few minutes ago already forgotten. He launches into a passionate speech about cats, then dogs, and you wonder if this is the longest he's ever been allowed to speak at once.

You hate dancing almost as much as you hate being dragged to these stupid events. You really do. But here, dancing with Ralph as he chatters away excitedly, it suddenly dawns on you that you're actually enjoying yourself. You're only on your second dance, but somehow, all the pain and suffering and boring gossip about who's wearing what and who'd gained weight that you'd had to endure tonight seemed like a distant memory. This? This made it all worthwhile.

When Ralph finally pauses to take a breath, you seize the opportunity to make a confession.

"I didn't want to come to this… but now, I'm glad I did."

"Why?" he asks, oblivious at the hint you're trying to drop.

"Because I got to dance with you."

Ralph's face turns a deep shade of crimson, and he's unable to control the giggle that bubbles from his throat. You laugh with him, because it's so cute, you can hardly stand it. This is the best dance you've ever been forced to attend. You're so enamored by him, you don't even notice Victoria's shrill laugh cutting through the air, or the blisters forming on your feet from the shoes that were manufactured in Hell.

You suddenly feel a chill run up your spine, and as Ralph turns you on the dance floor, you catch a glimpse of a very red face glowering at you from behind the giant crystal punch bowl.

"Oh, no," you groan. The moment is ruined, the spell is broken.

"What is it?" Ralph asks, on the brink of panic already.

"My mother's spotted us. If she gets any redder, I think her head will explode." Ralph looks worried, like he's going to be in trouble, but it gives you a delightfully devious idea. "I bet if she saw us kiss, it would tip her over the edge. Shall we try?"

Ralph's eyes widen, and he nods feverishly. Smiling, you stand on your tiptoes in your dreadful shoes and capture his lips in a kiss. He doesn't move. You pull back and look up at him, standing completely still with his eyes blank. Is he still breathing? Have you broken him? You'd better check just to be sure. You come back in for one, two, three more short and soft kisses that he happily returns, now that the shock has worn off. Yes, coming out tonight was definitely worth it.

You see your mother advancing out of the corner of your eye.

"Meet me on the bridge in the park tomorrow at noon," you whisper. Ralph gives you a puzzled look. "If you don't see me again, she's killed me, but know that my last night on this earth was worth it." Her claw circles your wrist and tugs you away, steam billowing out of her ears. "It was worth it!" you yell back over your shoulder with a grin.

Ralph stands there, in the middle of the dance floor, watching your mother escort you from the building. He reaches up and touches the lips that had just touched yours. You were right. It was worth it.

Thank You To: @heyndrix, for being my #1 cheerleader, keeping me on track, and not blocking me for the constant teasing. @pollenallergie, for her unwavering enthusiasm. @eddiemunsonsmum for letting me rant and ramble in her general direction. @spookyscarydemonbabe for writing the cutest freakin' Ralph stories that definitely kept my Ralph Juices flowing on lazy writing days.

#writings of despair #ralph is worth it #ralph penbury #ralph penbury x you #ralph penbury x reader #ralph timewasters

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