#this is the man who says “fiddlesticks”

[cyath]

I had a vision

#this is the man who says “fiddlesticks” #twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #illustration #disney twisted wonderland #twst fanart #lilia vanrouge art #twst lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader #twst lilia #lilia vanrouge #twisted wonderland lilia #lilia x reader #doodles

[msfcatlover]

Thinking back to that one post about how every batkid needs to pick a persona they get to swear in. I would like to expand it.

Dick swears all the time, but he does it in other languages. He picks a language for each persona to swear in and sticks to it. He did still do his whole “Aw, fiddlesticks!” routine as Robin, mainly just to watch everyone’s faces when he did it. (But everyone remembers the time Robin’s leg was broken and he just screamed “FUCK!” so loud that the entire battlefield turned around in shock.)

Jason knew that thanks to classism, people would assume he swore even if he didn’t. So like, why bother restraining it any more than he absolutely had to? As Robin, he didn’t swear even when he really wanted to, though sometimes he slipped up when caught off-guard or when chatting with someone who knows him in both identities. (On one very memorable occasion, Robin got so mad he actually shoved his fist into his own mouth to muffle the screaming rant of obscenity he needed to express.)

(As the Red Hood, Jason doesn’t really give a fuck, but he still falls back into his old habit of cleaning up his language when in costume. It’s very funny to hear him say something like, “Well, golly! You’ve gotta be shitting me.”)

Tim Drake is a proper young man who doesn’t swear, even when he’s hurt (he has totally stolen that biting-my-fist move from Jason.) Robin swears like a fuckin’ sailor all day every day, to the point where not a single goddamn hero in the entire caped community that has ever worked even adjacent to him has not heard, “Ask me if I fucking give a shit,” muttered under Robin’s breath directly into the com line when someone tries to correct him on something. He will switch languages to insult you in the one you best understand, too. His friends have a running bet about how many of those languages Robin actually speaks, versus how many he just learned how to cuss people out in (when asked, Robin just smirks and says, “How fucking many do you [always a swear from a different language, usually one they haven’t heard before] think?”)

Damian mostly sticks with old-timey faux-Shakespearean insults, mainly because it’s very funny when adults can’t figure out what to punish him for when he sasses them. As Robin, Damian likes using animals in place of swears, and just telling people to go fuck themselves—it keeps them on their toes.

Steph does not fuckin’ care.

Duke canonically swears both in & out of costume, and I love that for him.

#batfam #batfamily #bat family #bat fam #robin #nightwing #red hood #the spoiler #the signal #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #stephanie brown #duke thomas #richard grayson #timothy drake #steph brown #damian al ghul #robin dick grayson #robin jason todd #robin tim drake #robin damian wayne #robin!dick grayson #robin!jason todd #robin!tim drake #robin!damian wayne #robin dick #robin jason #robin tim

[sherifftillman]

busy streets and busy lives • ralph penbury x reader

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

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

Word count: 14.2k

A/N: Jesus. H. Christ. Thank you for your patience. This chapter broke me. Goodnight.

(Also please note there is a new content warning in the tags! There is slight drug use in this chapter.)

PS i know, it's a lot of angst, and you guys are here for the cute fluffy timey-wimey boy. i promise next chapter is far nicer, i just didn't want it to get boring, is all. <3

It had been so long. He’d been doing so well. You thought you could just happily leave Ralph at home and he could stay out of trouble. But several missed calls from your friends alerts you to the incident that the group chat were talking about:

With a heavy sigh, you text your co-manager, asking them to cover for you so you could leave for what you call a “family emergency”. Thankfully, you’ve had to do it often enough in the past that they just assume you’ve got a really chaotic younger sibling or something, but it still gets a little frustrating that it’s his third month of living with you and you’re still having to be on call 24/7 for him. Surely by now, he could have googled whether it was safe to microwave a whole egg. And how on earth do you accidentally go live?! There are steps to it, it’s not as though it’s a button he can accidentally press. Only Ralph, honestly.

Still, you can’t stay mad at him. Not when he’s sat on the kitchen floor, muttering to himself in exponential anguish as he reads every cleaning product label to try and determine which one is best for the task at hand.              

You spot his phone still resting on the counter and look at the screen in confusion. “How are there still three and a half thousand of you watching my wall?!” You ask into the camera.

Ralph sits up on his knees to look at his phone, too, and you hold back laughter at the camera’s shot of just his hair and eyes above your kitchen counter. “What do you mean, watching?”

“You’ve been broadcasting for hours, mate. Say goodbye to your followers!” You chirp as you hover over the button to end the feed.

Ralph sinks back to the floor with a defeated, “Oh, fiddlesticks,” and you stop the livestream.

You look at the bottles he has surrounding him and hold your hand out, “Here, gimme the green one.”

He hands it over to you, and gets up quickly, moving over to sit on the sofa in silence. You sigh in resignation, looking over at him as he hugs a cushion to his chest. Quickly wiping down the inside of your microwave, you tidy up the rest of the kitchen after him and sit on the other end of the couch, cross-legged. “Hey.” You crane your neck to try and catch his gaze, but he refuses to. “Hey. You know I’m not mad at you, right? It’s just all the stuff I’ve had going on today all balled up into one big outburst. I’m sorry if I made you feel that way.”

“I suppose you shall be on your way back to work now,” he mutters into the cushion.

You shake your head, “Nah, already forfeited the rest of the day as unpaid because the other manager’s covering. Usually I’d swap it for another shift, but we’re going away next week, so…” You shrug. “No chance there.”

Ralph looks up, the pillow obscuring everything but his sad puppy-dog eyes. “G-going away? Wher- who wi- how lo-”

“Where, Brighton,” you tap one finger. “Ever been?” He shakes his head. “Ah, you’ll love it.” You tap another finger, “Who with, please, like I have any other friends,” you scoff, “so don’t worry, you won’t be meeting anybody new -”

Ralph’s eyes widen in a double take. “Wh- I’m going, too?”

“Well, I clearly can’t leave you here with me, can I?” You ask pointedly, jerking your head behind you towards the now clean microwave. “At least the sofa in the Brighton house pulls out into a proper bed size. How long,” you tap a third finger, “we leave here tomorrow afternoon, leave Brighton next Saturday morning.”

Ralph suddenly finds all his energy, “And just when were you planning on letting me know to start packing?!”

“Well, tomorrow morning, I thought, it’s just a case of shoving some clothes in a bag for a week. It’s not like we’re going to the Ritz or anything,” you shrug. “But we’ve got time to get a head start now if you really need it.”

“If I need -” Ralph scoffs at you as he leaps off the sofa and into the bedroom. All you can do is sigh as you watch him sprint across the room.

~~~

You probably should have figured out, with six of you taking three cars, that it wasn’t going to just be six of you. Grace’s new boyfriend - who you barely recognise yourself until Ralph, of all people, informs you that they’d met on his first night out with you all - and Scott’s partner, who Ralph is thrilled to be reunited with.

It does raise some questions to you about everyone’s sleeping arrangements, since usually Grace and Anna share the biggest room, leaving the three other bedrooms in the house for the rest of you. You’re about to suggest that you sleep on the sofa here, too, to give Ralph the bedroom, when instead you watch Connor throw his bag down on it.

You frown, “Oh, I was gonna stay down here to give Ralph a-”

“No, no, absolutely not,” Anna interjects, shaking her head. “I already worked out, it’s better if you two take the biggest bedroom, the two couples share a bedroom each, and then I tried to fight my case for the sofa, but Connor insisted on it.”

“What a gent,” you comment jokingly. You wonder if Ralph saw it that way, but daren’t look in his direction, in case he takes that the wrong way and assumes you want him to react. 

“So - so this bedroom that we’re staying in, is - is there -?” Ralph stammers, his eyes squeezing shut and opening at a rapid pace. You’ve been able to recognise that as a nervous reaction of his.

“Pretty sure there’s one bed, yeah. But if that’s too scandalous for you, I’m sure I can get a fold-out or something,” you explain, but Ralph’s eyes quickly look around the room before he shakes his head. He can’t quite make eye contact with you.

“No, no, it’s quite… Nothing wrong with being bedfellows, right?”

You shake your head, “Sure, whatever you say. Let me take our bags up - Connor, since yours are there, why don’t you show the newbies around the house and the rest of us can get our rooms set up?”

Connor agrees and you sling the strap of your duffel bag over your shoulder and pick up the suitcase Ralph’s using to take them both up the two flights of stairs to the biggest bedroom in the house.

You really should make work on unpacking yours and Ralph’s clothes for the week, or at least getting your toiletries out, but the bed calls to you like a siren from the deep seas. Throwing the bags on the floor, you launch yourself onto the bed. Oh, sweet spongy mattress! An actual duvet that covers all of you and then some! Pillows without an armrest digging into the back of your head!

The drive down was tiring enough that you can feel your eyes getting heavy. You try to get up again, to fight the urge to sleep too early and miss out on your first night traditions.

You’re awoken by a gentle pressure shoving your wrist down into the bed. And then your elbow. And then your shoulder. You eventually figure out that the sound that accompanies it is Ralph calling your name. “Ah, you’ve awoken! Welcome back.”

You sit up suddenly, “Oh Christ, I’m so sorry! I didn’t want to do that, oh god, what time is it?!”

“Not to worry! Everybody is waiting to go to dinner, they said this is the time you all go anyway,” Ralph assures you. You notice that he’s stood bolt upright, but with his head turned almost upside down to look at you. You let out a sleepy chuckle as you start moving out of the bed, and Ralph quickly darts out of the room. You try not to read into that too much.

You’re greeted with a chorus of, “Alright, sleepyhead?” “It lives!” “What time d’you call this?!” You flip your friends off and fake going back up the stairs before running ahead to the front door.

Once you’ve all got your food, you sit where you always do - a bench that overlooks the pier, all its illuminations making it obvious against the dark sea beneath it. Knowing you’re finally on holiday, surrounded by the people you love most in the world, in your most favourite place, enjoying one of your favourite traditions as your lap cradles the bundle of warmth that is your portion of fish and chips as you hear the gentle crashing of waves. Knowing that all your troubles are currently almost a hundred miles away. You feel a sense of contentment, a rare zen moment. You can’t remember the last time you felt this calm.

And then, ironically, a voice laced with disgruntlement interrupts your train of thought. “Is this really any way to spend a night? You can barely see anything, this is by far the least dignified way to eat, and I fear I may come down with pneumonia before the night is through,” Ralph complains.

“Eat quicker, you’ll warm up quicker,” you prompt him. “This is why I wanted to get you a hat, but you didn’t ‘trust me’,” you mock with a smirk.

“That’s ’cause I’m your favourite to shop with, innit, Ralphie?” Connor calls from further down the bench.

“The guy who bought him clothes that feature an Angry Birds and Star Wars crossover does not deserve bragging rights,” you scoff, to laughter from most of the others.

“Ignore that lot, mate, here, have mine for now!” Connor takes his hat off and puts it on Ralph’s head. There’s something rather endearing about Ralph wearing a hat with ear flaps, but even more so when they’ve folded back on each other enough that they stick out to the sides.

“Are you quite sure?” Ralph asks, eyes wide and pleading.

“Yeah, shoved my hand in my pocket earlier and realised I had a beanie in here, too,” Connor grins as he puts another hat on his head. 

“You’re such a twat,” Grace laughs, and Connor acts offended.

“Excuse you! I was merely looking out for my best mate here!” Ralph’s face lights up at those words.

Trying not to focus on how cute that is, you grin, “Did you wanna share the bed with Ralph, then?”

Connor’s mood shifts at that. He suddenly shakes his head and goes quiet as the others hurriedly change the subject. They tell Ralph about how you’ve all hired out the same house from Airbnb for years now, how the tradition of visiting every year came to be, asking Ralph if he’d ever been to a beach before. He vaguely recalls going to “a sandy beach” when he and his sister were very young, for a few years. You’ve had a few heart-to-hearts with Ralph about his father’s death and his mother’s admission to rehabilitation, but he doesn’t bring it up to the group. You still give his hand a gentle squeeze, to let him know that you understand if he’s getting upset. He wriggles his hand against yours until your fingers interlock, and he squeezes back, using his free hand to pull the ear flaps of his new hat down to cover his.

You keep hold of Ralph’s hand as you walk back to the house, just to let him know that you’re still there for him - though you’d be lying if you weren’t also letting yourself indulge in the idea of you both taking a romantic late-evening stroll along the beachfront, just a little. Of course, usually when you allow yourself these small delusions, it ends up warping the little grievances the two of you have into something far more infuriating than they probably actually are - something’s got to bring you back to reality, after all. But you can’t see any reason why you’d possibly get far enough to snap while you’re on holiday.

Once you’re back to the house, and you and Ralph are making your way upstairs, you tell him to get himself changed in the bedroom while you do so in the bathroom. You grab some pyjamas from your bag, as well as your washbag, and head in to get yourself ready for the night. A quick silent pep talk with your own reflection to remind yourself that your walk back with Ralph was strictly platonic, and you’re ready to go back out to the living room for some games with your friends before bed.

As you step out of the bathroom, you hear a short, shrill shriek. Your eyes dart immediately to Ralph sat on the side of the bed who, despite the fact that he is wearing an undershirt, still censors his chest from view with his pyjama shirt, staring at you with wide eyes.The shade of his ears is unusually deep compared to when he’s usually surprised. Assuming you’re paying far too close attention to such a minor detail for no reason, you snort out a laugh, tell him to meet you downstairs and go to meet the others.

Though Ralph doesn’t understand a lot of the games you all play that rely heavily on pop culture knowledge, he’s a big fan of those that rely on skill and/or general hilarity, since his cluelessness usually helps him there. You advise that he take a backseat upon the suggestion of Jackbox, much to the others’ chagrin - you just feel as though he isn’t quite ready for that, yet. You’re proven right when he constantly asks you for clarification on just what makes a particular answer funny, or when his ears burn up at a particularly racy answer. Connor had expressed interest in showing Ralph the ropes when it came to some games, and you tried to encourage him to go over there, but Ralph insisted on you being his teacher. You assume it’s because you know better than anyone how to explain things to him, but internally your imagination is  playing a very dangerous game.

When you awaken in the bed the next morning, Ralph is still sleeping soundly next to you. He’s almost at the edge of his side of the bed, back turned to you. You slowly make your way out of your side and sneak past him, out of the room and down to the kitchen.

“No Ralph?” Scott asks as you walk in.

“Hello to you, too,” you jokingly flip your friend off and he smiles sweetly in return. “Nah, he’s still sparko. Dunno why.”

“Didn’t he sleep well?” Anna frowns.

You shrug. “Couldn’t tell you, I slept like a log!”

Ralph stirs from all the way upstairs, assuming from the open door that you’d already left the room but still staying still just in case. He slowly starts to roll around to look, allowing himself a sigh of relief as he sprawls out on the bed. He’d only slept once he’d finally exhausted himself from trying to stay as deliberately far away from you as possible. 

His mind would wander, of course. How peaceful you must look when you sleep. How wonderful it would be to awaken with his face a mere touching distance from yours. On occasion, he’d hear you take an extra deep breath and he’d get giddy at the realisation that he was breathing the same air as you!

That’s when he’d rein it in. Stupid Ralph. That’s exactly what scared Lauren off. It’s been months since that week, and still he hasn’t learned. In the present moment, Ralph pushes the heels of his hands into his eyes and bares his teeth in frustration at himself. Desperate to think of anything other than the thought of waking up next to you just as the sun shone against you in the most perfect of ways, making you appear even more radiant than usual. Of your eyes slowly opening as you wake. Ralph finally gives into temptation and indulges himself in the idea of your sleepy smile, in this dream universe where you’d be happy to wake up to see him. And what a perfect sight that would be.

He takes himself to the bathroom, picking up his razor and twirling the handle around between his fingers and thumb, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. He’s already shaved his facial hair clean off on several occasions. It keeps him remembering who the real Ralph Penbury is. You and your friends always complain when he does it, though. They tell him that he’s not Our Ralph when he looks like that. He’d love nothing more than to be Their Ralph. Especially to you. What was the point of being the other Ralph? Going back to a penniless, friendless, loveless, overall fruitless life?

But you’re always reminding him, this isn’t his era. This isn’t permanent. You’re always preparing him to go back to his own time at any point. A part of Ralph - the stupidly optimistic, nay, deluded part - hopes that it’s simply a fear of the unknown, that messing with time in such a way could cause devastating effect. Though what a stupid thing to think, in what universe would Ralph have such a massive impact?! 

With a heaving sigh, he tidies his facial hair up to a minimum while keeping it intact. A part of him still hesitates, still debates going further. It's what you'd want. Except also it isn't, because you always tell him he looks better with it. Ye gods, you're a confusing one.

Ralph gets himself dressed and makes it downstairs in just enough time to catch breakfast being dished up. You whisper something to Scott as soon as Ralph approaches, and Scott hands him a plate with a warm smile alongside everyone else eating, before setting everything up to make another portion for you. Ralph wants to frown, but he doesn't want to draw attention to himself, either. Why would you immediately sacrifice your breakfast for him, when he's the one who came downstairs later? Why would you see him being fed first as more important? Why not let him make that decision? He would have been happy to wait.

You feel Ralph's eyes boring into you as he scarfs his eggs down, but the one time you try and look back at him he acts as though he's trying not to get caught. You wonder what he could possibly be thinking, until Anna starts talking about the day's itinerary. This is good, this is distracting from the awkwardness, this is what the holiday is all about.

All wrapped up for a brisk November morning, you all head out to the pier, as per tradition. As Ralph gets face to face with the rides, he looks up at them, horrified, and you frown. "Are you scared of rides, or something?" He looks back down at the pier floor, watching the waves crash beneath a gap in the planks, with more fear in his eyes. "Hey, hey," you soothe, "eyes up." Ralph eventually tears his gaze away to look at you. "I promise it's all safe. It's not like those travelling funfairs where everything gets wheeled in and out, everything's built to stay here. Alright?" He still seems distracted, and before you can stop yourself, you blurt out, "Wanna hold my hand again?"

Stupid. What happened to not feeding the delusion? What happened to distancing yourself? What happened to being realistic? You know exactly what happened. Those damn baby-cow eyes. Hopefully Ralph'll say no. It'll be too scandalous for him to hold hands in public with people all around, surely.

But no. His fingers very carefully slide between yours yet again as he squeezes your hand gratefully. You keep both of your hands relatively tucked away from the others' view - they've already got you two sharing a bed, the last thing you need is having to constantly try to convince them all that you and Ralph aren't an item. Despite the fact that it would certainly be a good thing for you, a constant reminder to you that it can never happen, you know your friends well enough by now to know that they’d only take it as denial. That they’d keep pressing to ‘uncover’ whatever they believe you’re hiding. And you’ve gone this long keeping your one big secret from them, what if they keep digging until they find that out?!

Your train of thought is interrupted by a loud giggle from Ralph. He sees the photo op cutout of a cop and robber chase scene and he’s delighted by it. “Wanna pose?” You let go of Ralph’s hand to take your phone out and hand it to one of your friends as you both run behind the photo stand. Ralph finds the resulting picture absolutely hilarious. 

“I always wanted to do one of those,” he muses as the pair of you hang back for him to once again hold your hand, to your own chagrin. Why couldn’t you have offered to link arms? That’s friendly enough. Can’t really be misconstrued. His smile, small but contented, melts your frustrations away, if only to add to them later on as you’re walking with him.

“Did they not have people taking your photo for you, even, in those days, then?” you ask quietly, so as not to be overheard.

Ralph half-shrugs, “There were cameras, you know. Far bigger than those little pocket ones everyone has now!”

“Yeah, I think I know of them. Big box things, someone would have to stand under a curtain and hold out a thing to press to take it, right?” you ask.

Ralph holds back his laughter as he replies with amusement, “By a thing to press, do you mean a button, by any chance?”

You pull a sarcastic face at him. “I’m leaving you stranded here,” you joke, tugging him in a particular direction to show him you’re not serious. “You’re spending too much time around me, I think. Starting to sound like me and everything,” you shake your head.

“Is that such a bad thing?” Ralph asks in a small voice.

Trying not to overthink what else that could mean, you shrug, “Well, I s’pose if I’ve a part to play in you being able to tell your sister to shove it, then not really. But using my own brand of sarcasm against me?” You tut, again shaking your head. “I’ve created a monster.” Ralph laughs gently at you as everyone stops at their first ride: the Turbo roller coaster. 

Everyone laughs at the shade of green Ralph turns. “I promise you, mate, it’s far scarier down here than it is up there,” Connor tries to reassure him, but Ralph is fixated on the loop in the track.

“Honestly, Ralphie babe, that is the tiniest loop you’ll ever go on. It’ll be over before you even know it, and by the time it is over, you’ll love it, promise!” Grace holds her little finger out to Ralph, who stares at it with fearful eyes for a few beats before linking his own, to everyone’s cheers.

You allow your hands to be a little less obscured, under the guise that Ralph is only scared of the ride and so you are providing a temporary comfort. Anna also rests her head against Ralph’s arm, and Scott places a comforting hand on his shoulder, at your invitation. “The more of us that comfort him, the better, right?” you explain. “Plus, if there’s any… Prying eyes…” You look around anxiously. “At least they can’t assume that Ralph and I are dating just ’cause we’re stood together,” you roll your eyes exaggeratedly. “I don’t need that sort of attention, it’s bad enough on socials.”

You don’t see Ralph’s change in demeanour. What was a quiet excitement mellowed amongst the fear of the ride, turns to full-blown dejection. Of course you’d be embarrassed to be associated with him. Who wouldn’t be? No matter what era he’s in, he’s still Ralph.

Anna interrupts his train of thought by rubbing his arm, “You alright, Ralph?” He nods, pushing a smile up his cheeks. “Nervous?” She asks, and he nods silently. She hugs his arm tight. “Honestly, there’s nothing to it.”

“Yeah, you’ll be a thrill-seeker like the rest of us in no time!” Scott grins before nudging you and Ralph each. “You two should get a photo on the Crazy Mouse for the flat!”

You shake your head, “Come off it, like either of us would want a photo of us being flung around like that! Right, Ralph?” Again, he nods without saying a word. Your brow furrows, “Are you okay? Did you want to sit this one out?” He shakes his head. “Sure? We can just go get food if you would rather watch this lot go round first and then we can go later,” you offer, but he shakes his head again.

“Besides, it’s not like it’d be the worst photo of him out there,” a completely strange voice from the other side of the queue barrier makes you jump.

“Excuse me?!” Scott exclaims.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you all! We just saw Ralph, and then you, and really wanted to get a photo, if that’s okay?” They ask you. They seem innocent enough, just asking for a picture, but you still can’t help but stand there awkwardly.

“Oh, I’m not really into that side of things, I only got my socials to make sure people are being normal about him,” you shrug them off before adding, “and to reward you all with some extra content if you’re all behaving!” They laugh, and you turn to Ralph. “What do you say, do you wanna take a photo with some of your fans?”

Ralph approaches the barrier and leans over it to pose for the photo, pressing his lips together into a smile as he holds an arm around his first in-person fan. “My friends and I just think you’re absolutely hilarious!” They smile up at him.

“Oh, please,” he laughs, flustered. Though he has his new hat on, you can guess what’s happening beneath it. “My lack of knowledge of technology doesn’t necessarily make me hilarious, anyone could do that.”

“Nah, there’s a sort of… Natural charm about you. Plus, I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this, but you’re really cute. Even in that photo that’s going around.”

Ralph sputters nervously as the rest of you exchange glances. You manage to hide your seething rage from your friends, though you feel it boring through your eyes as they fixate on this person. “Ah, don’t be so silly! You’re far too kind. Um, is that your friend over there waving you away?” He asks as someone approaches, thankfully dragging their friend away while talking about spotting a Twitch streamer as they head in the direction of some poor sod wearing a black and white face covering. You wonder whether that’s their ‘thing’ or if they’re doing it to avoid detection. You wonder if you’ll have to do that with Ralph at some point. His internet fame is becoming less and less of the laugh it first seemed to be with every day.

“You alright?” Anna again checks in with Ralph, who looks slightly bewildered still.

“Should I have responded differently there?” He asks.

You’re quick to answer, “No! No, I think you did the right thing, there.” You then hurriedly follow it up with a, “I mean, dating fans is never a good idea, right?”

“Yeah, not gonna lie, that made me uncomfortable,” Connor cringes. “You handled it way better than me, mate.” Ralph feels a sense of pride at his words. The line starts to move and soon enough, you’re all getting into carriages yourself. 

You make sure you and Ralph are in one near the middle, so he feels safer. Once you’re all strapped in, and the attendant is sure Ralph is, too, you see him already squeezing his eyes half-shut in anticipation. You poke him gently and hold your hand out again. “It’ll be here if you need it, okay?”

“Oh, it’s quite alright, I wouldn’t want to be a -” Ralph starts, but as the coaster jolts into motion he quickly grasps your hand tightly.

Ralph’s half-laugh/half-scream serenades you throughout the whole ride, especially at the loop. Once the ride brings you back upright again, you look over at him. “Was that so bad?”

“Boy, that was exhilarating, wasn’t it?!” He beams, and everyone else cheers for him from their own seats.

“You did it, Ralphie!” “We’re so proud of you, babe!” “Reckon we’ve awoken the thrillseeker in you?” Ralph’s too giddy to answer any of those. 

You can barely get him to stand upright without his legs turning to jelly, unless you get him to hold your arms while you hold his. He falls into your arms with a giddy laugh, and you gently shove him onto his own gait. “Easy, tiger!” You giggle. “God knows what you’re gonna be like on the other rides.”

Once he sees the Crazy Mouse coaster in action, that green hue in his skin returns, so you decide to build his courage up a little more. His face simply turns white when he sees the ghost train. Scott notices and rolls his eyes, “Oh my god, Ralph, don’t even worry about it, this is literally the least scary ride on here.”

His partner pipes up, “Yeah, there’s scarier creatures on the merry-go-round than there are in there!”

“I wonder if they’ve put the face back on that animatronic from last year or not?” You ask, before looking over to Ralph, who looks horrified. “It’s unintentionally the scariest thing there, and it’s not even that bad. Trust me. Remember?” You hold your hand out, wiggling your fingers. “If you need it.”

“What if… People assume?” Ralph asks, trying not to spit the word out with the venom that wants to follow it.

You shrug, “I think your face justifies your need to have someone hold your hand. If you’d rather, you can sit with Connor or Anna, I was just suggesting -” He takes your hand again in silence, and you walk him over to queue up at the ghost train.

The moment the ride takes you into a dark hallway, Ralph buries his face in your shoulder, and you pat his cheek comfortingly. However, as he starts to see the quality of the animatronics (“Was that one being held up by -” “Duct tape, yes.”) and experience how poorly timed the “jump scares” are, he relaxes far more. 

You take him on the twister next, which only ends up throwing your body into his at every convenience, a consequence you’d forgotten in the year since you’d last been on it. Still, he seemed too invested in the adrenaline rush that came with being thrown around in circles to notice your proximity.

After a quick pit stop to eat, and reassurance to Ralph that you weren’t going straight back onto any rides, you go into the arcade. Ralph’s face lights up along with all the games as you explain what ones are. He excitedly tells you that he recognised the fortune teller machine and a strength tester game from his own youth. 

You let the others go on ahead as you and Ralph pay for a go on the fortune teller. It tells you, “A smile is worth a hundred frowns in any market!” You look at Ralph with the biggest smile you can muster, and he returns with one of your favourite expressions of his, the big fake animatronic-style smile that could rival the fortune teller. “And lucky for you, the great Zoltar sees much happiness ahead for you!” You bite your lip at the irony. Does that mean Ralph's happiness, that he’ll be returning home soon? Your happiness, that he’ll be staying? Or is it just a randomly generating machine?

It prints off a fortune and you read it together: You may be riding the winds of change. Things may at times seem to be out of touch. Soon they will come to a better order. As the blessings of health and fortune have a beginning, so they must also find an end. Everything rises but to fall. To make sense of all this, you will find the answer is to be found in how well you relate to people. Looking at the big picture will help shape your long range plans. If things are not always smooth remember that he who could foresee affairs but three days in advance would be rich for thousands of years.

You blow out a long breath of disbelief at how weirdly on the nose that seems to be for you both and quickly pocket it to find the others. Grace is trying to get her new boyfriend to win her a stuffed toy on the cranes. Scott is trying to finesse a coin-pusher game while his partner and Connor play a dance mat game behind him, and Ralph leaves you to watch in awe as Anna plays a pinball machine. She tries to explain the mechanics of it all to him, but it seems to be going entirely over his head.

You play your favourite game for a while, trying to win as many tickets as possible, when Ralph soon joins you as well. “Any luck with pinball?” You ask, and Ralph shakes his head.

“I wasn’t sure how to play it, I didn’t really seem to be doing anything, rather just pushing an awful lot of buttons for the sake of it,” he answers. 

“Sounds like you were playing it right to me!” You laugh. “What do you wanna do now?”

“Well,” he says, excitement obvious in his voice. “I saw one of those photo booths around there…”

You gasp, “Yes! Let’s do it!” before looking around with disappointment. “Ugh, how are we gonna fit everyone in, though?”

“Perhaps we can get individual ones with people across the week?” Ralph suggests.

“Alright,” you nod. “Wanna get some practice in, just us?” Ralph nods back at you, and you both head into the booth.

Once you’ve paid for it, Ralph asks, “Now how does it all work, again?”

“Right, it’ll tell you when - oh, for fuck’s sake,” you groan as it takes a photo of you mid-sentence, and Ralph stifles a laugh. “Okay, quick, when’s it taking anoth- ahh!” Another snap takes you by surprise, and Ralph doesn’t attempt to hide his amusement this time. You throw your hands up in disbelief, “Well, this is a waste now, isn’t it,” before collapsing into laughter yourself.

“I am sorry,” Ralph frowns at you once all four are taken, and you wave him off. 

“Don’t be! I should have set us a game plan from the beginning.” You decide on your poses: a normal, smiley one; a goofy-grinning one; one with both your tongues sticking out; and one where you kiss his cheek. You promise him that it’s not at all scandalous to pose in this way, and that between Grace and Scott, at least one of them would want a photo with him like it anyway so you’re simply getting him geared up for that. You’re promising yourself that more than him, if you’re being honest with yourself.

You end up posing for the first one with your heads touching as you smile gently into the camera. He’s not giving his usual uncomfortable smile, or his disappearing-lip act. It’s just a nice, natural smile. Which is immediately replaced with a fake smile so big, he has to hold himself up on the bench with both of his hands to hold himself at an angle worthy of the grin on his face, which you mirror. When you tell him, “Tongues out!” yours pokes straight out towards the camera, but he lets his loll out to show off the flat of his tongue to the camera instead. You remind him to look ahead for the last one by pointing at the screen, and then holding the cheek furthest from you to push it closer to you, feeling his freshly trimmed down stubble scratch at your lips as you feel them press against the warm flesh of his cheek beneath.

Once all four are done, you quickly get out to make sure both strips are still there to collect. Thankfully, nobody else has seen them, and you pick them both up to study them. You try not to focus on the bottom photo of the second strip, instead looking at the total disaster that is the first strip. Most of them are blurry and far from flattering, but the final one. What is it with the last photo with you two?! You’re laughing, as is Ralph, but the way Ralph is angled, you could just as easily fool yourself into believing that he’s looking at you as though he’s madly in love with you.

As he emerges, he asks, “So, were those first ones completely unusable?”

Quickly tearing off the bottom photo to pocket it, you crumpled up the remaining three and throw them in the bin. “Yeah, pretty much! Here, hold onto these ones, though, and we can put them on the fridge when we get back home.”

Home. Do you mean that to mean your home is Ralph’s, too, or are you speaking on your own terms? Neither of you know, to be honest.

Your friends reconvene around you, and you tell them of yours and Ralph’s plan for each of them to get a mini photoshoot with him, what with it being his first time on this holiday with you all. Everyone happily accepts getting their own photo ops in with Ralph, and you love watching how everyone poses with him. Your personal favourites are Anna teaching him how to throw up deuces as they pull funny faces, Connor teaching him how to make hand horns as they stick their tongues out, Scott and his partner both kissing each of Ralph’s cheeks, and Ralph’s feigned disgust as Grace drapes herself over her boyfriend.

After all that excitement, you decide you’ll return to the rides another day. Instead, you find a nice little Italian place to eat that’s taken over an old cafe you had used to love coming to, but this new restaurant has an even better vibe than its predecessor. That, and Ralph learning how to eat spaghetti through trial and error is hilarious, especially when he decides that the best way is to simply find the ends of as many strands as possible and slurp them all up. The rest of you make a game of picking a strand each and seeing which one lasts the longest.

On the way back, Ralph gets recognised again. Thankfully, this person knows better than to flirt with a total stranger, though Ralph still seems astounded at the whole experience. This fan says something about being able to replace their icon from “the explosion photo”, and so, remembering the one from earlier mentioning an unflattering picture, once you’re all back at the house you look through Ralph’s follower list and burst into laughter. 

It seems as though his fans have taken a screenshot of his disdain after microwaving the egg and made it their profile pictures. Some have left it as is, with your kitchen in the background. Some have added further explosions and other phenomena in the background. Ralph is the only one who doesn’t see the funny side, the disappointment returning to his expression.

With a sigh, you promise him, yet again, that there is no need to be upset. You’re not upset with him, the flat was easily cleaned, the microwave remains functional. You understand that this comes from years of being raised poorly, but having to constantly remind Ralph that you aren’t mad at him, is ironically the thing that frustrates you the most about him.

The next day, after again waking up to Ralph practically on the edge of his side of the bed, you decide to go to the Lanes to explore some of the vintage shops. Mostly, for your own amusement, you want to watch Ralph react to what is considered “vintage”, but you know you’re going to have to rein it in around everyone else. The day flies by in a montage of trying on ridiculously old clothes, ones that even Ralph turns his nose up at, trying to find the most cursed old toys in every shop, and Ralph trying desperately to stifle his excitement every time he recognises something from his own time period. Ralph gets recognised again by a young, tall blonde boy and his shorter brunette friend, though those two soon get accosted themselves, which allows you to get Ralph away to the safety of a quieter shop.

After your shopping excursion, you return to the pier to play some more games, this time from the attractions around the pier. Thankfully, Ralph seems far more confident walking on it, so there’s no need for you to offer any hand-holding services - although it does already feel strange walking around with both hands empty. You manage to win a stuffed animal on a throwing game, and Ralph decides his skill set is best utilised playing hook-a-duck - though he throws the person running the game off of their rhythm when the prize he asks for is to keep the duck itself, as Ralph personally has no use for stuffed animals. The person running the game, totally baffled, ends up letting Ralph keep the rubber duck, which he seems thrilled about, placing the hook over his finger and letting the duck swing from it with great delight.

“I think I get why cats like him so much,” Connor comments from where he’s stood just behind you as you watch Ralph. “You know how you can buy them all the expensive toys they want but they just wanna play in the box?” You snort with laughter in agreement. “He’s just one of them.”

While Ralph insists on everyone referring to the duck by its name, Clarence, he apparently draws the line at your joke of offering to pay for him to shoot a photo booth reel with his new friend. He looks at you with disapproval at that one.

You still utilise Clarence in his own way, though. Everywhere you go from that point onwards, you take a photo of the duck in that area, and then post it to Ralph’s Instagram story for him, though you only do so once you’re no longer in that place, for obvious reasons.

That evening, at the house, Connor tells Ralph he’s got a surprise for him, and to close his eyes and hold his hands out. Your heart swells when you see that Connor, who had excitedly spent the best portion of an hour in a music shop, has bought Ralph his own ukulele. Ralph looks close to tears at the gift. “Oh, Connor, I couldn’t possibly -”

“None of that, you can and you will,” Connor states simply while pointing at him, and Ralph shrinks down in defeat, opting instead to look at the ukulele with marvel. You all spend the night listening to Ralph play his chords, everyone occasionally offering lyrics to the tunes he was playing. God, he fits in so well with you all. It’s going to be so heartbreaking to tell them all when it’s his time to leave.

You wonder if the window of opportunity will only be open while you’re away. It’s a risk you’ve had to take to make sure he stays safe, since he literally only proved days ago that he still can’t be trusted unsupervised. What if you miss it? Would he resent you? Would it cause some insane rip in the time-space continuum? There’s really not a lot of solid research into this whole time travel business.

The next morning, you’re shocked to awaken to Ralph’s face dangerously close to yours as it rests on the inner half of his pillow. You could count his eyelashes, they were that close. You could connect his freckles, they were that close. His lips twitch ever so slightly in his sleep as you’re studying his face. His face that’s so close to yours. His lips that are -

You quickly take yourself out of that trance and practically throw yourself down the stairs, you’re that quick to leave the room, and those thoughts.

Ralph awakens, sadly, from a dream where you’re happy to have him in your arms to find himself near enough in the middle of the bed. He wonders exactly how he got there. You’re already awake, because of course, you always are. You don’t lie awake for almost an hour every night trying desperately to stay as rigidly far away from the centre of the bed as possible.

When Ralph arrives for breakfast, the group have already decided that today is more of a lazy day. They’ll go out later, of course, but there’s no rush. Just a day spent at the house, playing more board games and listening to both Connor and Ralph playing the ukulele as Connor teaches him how to teach himself actual songs. You even post Ralph’s first photo dump to his Instagram account:

As fun as it is to get out and experience another city, especially getting to do so with Ralph for the first time, you make just as many memories on this rest day. Memories like Ralph not only playing Jackbox for the first time, but somehow winning several games. Memories like watching Grace and her boyfriend playing board games as if they’d been married for years, even though she wrongfully accuses you and Ralph of playing the same way.

In the last hour of sunlight, you realise something. “I haven’t found my rock for this year, yet!”

Ralph looks at you strangely. “Your what?” Before answering his own question. “Do you mean that shelf full of stones in the bedroom has a purpose?”

“Yes! Every year, I find myself a cool-looking rock to take back. It’s tradition,” you explain with a gesture. “Plus, it gets us all out of the house at least once.”

“W’re all goin’ out la’er,” Connor groans from where he lays across the sofa he’s been sleeping on, beneath a mountain of crisps he’s been making his way through.

“At least twice then, lazybones,” you comment, but almost everyone else is happy to stay home.

Everyone except Ralph, who hurriedly gets his shoes on. Of course, it’s just you and Ralph. Alone. Far away from home. Nothing could possibly go wrong, here.

Thankfully, you’re on a mission, here. You can distract yourself with the task of finding the best looking rock on the beach. It can’t just be the first cool rock you see, oh no. It has to be the best one. That’s always been your rule.

Ralph tries to help, but honestly, a puppy would be less excitable. He keeps grabbing the first rock he can, running up to you to ask, “Is this useful?” to which the answer is almost always “no”, and so he simply throws it back to the ground and looks again. There are three separate occasions where he shows you ones he’s already asked you about. But he’s having fun, and he looks adorable, and maybe tonight you’ll be able to delude yourself into a happy little dream where Ralph’d be happy to do anything for you. Though perhaps not quite anything, that sort of dream would have to be reserved for a time when you’re not sharing a bed with him.

You thump the side of your head with the heel of your hand, as though you’re trying to knock the idea out of your brain. There is absolutely no time and place for those kind of thoughts.

At one point, Ralph sees a young child throwing rocks one at a time into the sea, with great delight. Ralph also seems highly entertained by it, and when the kid looks over at him, he decides to join in by grabbing a whole handful of rocks and throwing them all into the water at once. The kid thinks this is the most hilarious thing they’ve ever seen before. Ralph seems happy enough to keep doing it until the kid’s parents take them away. You’re happy to just sit back on the ground and watch Ralph, taking photos and videos of this moment. 

 Ralph soon joins you where you sit, laughing breathlessly. “Oh, what a joy that was!”

“You certainly looked as though you were having a blast,” you simper. “Though if you threw away the ultimate rock amongst all of that, I may never forgive you,” you add in a sarcastic deadpan.

“I would completely understand,” Ralph nods back, unable to keep up any monotony for any amount of time before snorting with laughter. He looks out at the horizon, pointing out how the sky looks now that the sun is starting to set. “Don’t see that very often in London,” he frowns.

You shake your head, “Nah, it’s usually too cloudy. Not that different here, we’ve just caught a good moment. Looks nice, doesn’t it, all reflecting on the water and that?” You cock your head to the side and sigh happily. “Could sit here for hours watching it.”

Ralph tenses up, trying desperately not to think of how your head just rests against his arm, the weight of it still pressing down on the padded sleeve of his coat enough for him to feel it. He swallows hard, “Yes, it’s too bad that the sunset doesn’t last long at all, isn’t it?”

“You’re telling me,” you add with a soft smile before sitting up. “That’s why I wanted to try and get to the beach now, to get to see it at least once. ’m glad you came with me,” you muse before suddenly realising you’re treading into dangerous territory here. To save yourself, you quickly add, “Y’know, so that you get to see it too, while you’re still here. Since you were saying you haven’t been on a holiday like this since you were a kid. Maybe you can go on more of them once you’re back.”

“Maybe,” Ralph replies emotionlessly.

You sit in relative silence as you watch the sky together. You get a “golden hour” selfie with Ralph, mostly to teach him about it, though he says that he doesn’t see much difference between that photo and most of the others you’ve taken in the past. After realising that he’s brought it with him in his pocket, too, you spend a good few minutes laughing along with Ralph as you try to find the most photogenic angle of Clarence the duck to add to his photo collection.

Once the view stops being quite so aesthetically pleasing, you stop off at the pier again to buy some sugared doughnuts to share with Ralph as you make your way over to the pub that you plan to meet your friends at. You love this pub as another of your holiday traditions, because Wednesday nights are karaoke nights. You wonder whether Ralph’ll feel confident enough to sing along to any modern songs. The mental image of Ralph taking to the mic to sing along to Taylor Swift with his entire chest is enough to make you laugh out loud, which confuses Ralph, but you opt to not tell him, merely shaking your head and covering your mouth instead.

To your disappointment when you get there, the pub no longer does karaoke, but Wednesdays are now pub quiz nights. You still stick around for dinner, and after a couple of drinks, you end up signing up for the quiz, for a laugh. None of you expect to get very far, but Grace’s boyfriend really pulls through with sports questions, and even Ralph ends up answering the question that ultimately wins the whole quiz for you, one about a specific style of shoes that had rendered the rest of you clueless.

Everyone ends up watching your group celebrating Ralph. The leaders of the second-place team, an older blonde man and a dark-haired woman he refers to as his wife, even join in with their own congratulations.

 A pair of young women offer to buy Ralph a drink, to which Connor starts encouraging Ralph to go with them. You very quickly make conversation about the rest of the week’s plans with Anna and Grace to distract yourself, but Ralph doesn’t seem interested, much to your confusion. You look around at your friends, who all seem to be exchanging their own looks to each other, but none of them seem to want to look at you. You shake your head and make your way to the bathroom, scoffing indignantly at the two men who barge past you to get to the door next to you.

After a few minutes of silent pep talk to remind yourself that you have no right to feel bad if Ralph expresses interest in someone else, Anna comes in specifically to find her. After promising her a full eight times that you’re absolutely fine, you both head back out to the group, where Scott had brought along a game from the house that you can all play together. You notice Ralph isn’t there, but you don’t bring it up. You’re not his keeper, after all.

~~~

“Ah, ladies, this is quite an honour, obviously, but I am out with friends and it would be rather impolite to just leave them!” Ralph explains hurriedly to the two women who have approached him to congratulate him on his efforts.

“I dunno, your mate there seems pretty keen for you to come over,” one smirks in Connor’s direction.

“I must insist, I could never live with myself for taking advantage of such generous women as yourselves, though I am deeply grateful that you should wish to spend your night in my company! I’m afraid I’m very much not from around here, and so I would get frightfully lost without my friends to guide me home,” Ralph blabbers, getting more and more flustered.

“Maybe you can come back to mine, then?” The other asks, looking suggestively at him as she touches his arm. It’s a gentle contact, but it electrifies Ralph at high voltage as he yelps, pulling it away.

“Truly flattered, but I am a gentleman first and foremost and so I simply must decline such an offer, and I shan’t be staying long enough to court you appropriately, but I wish you both very well in your endeavours!” Ralph practically shouts as he turns on his heel and quickly makes his way to the toilets. 

Ralph walks in on quite a sight. Two men, reasonably bigger than himself, bent double over the sinks. “Pardon me,” Ralph calls out, with the intention on simply throwing some water on his face as a wake-up call of sorts, but the men jump up in surprise at the sound of his voice.

“Ain’t nothing to see here, mate, jog on,” one says, trying to square up against Ralph.

“Sorry, gents, just wanted a quick go at the sink, and then I’ll be out of your hair, I promise!” He smiles brightly, completely oblivious. He catches sight of a line of white powder along the counter and chuckles to himself as he recognises it as cocaine, thinking back to previous parties he’d held at Penbury House.

The first man growls, “Find something funny?”

“Oh, just reminiscing. It’s been a while since I’ve seen… You know,” his eyes flash over to the substance on the counter. “Just fondly remembering old times.”

“Oi, ain’t no way this toff’s a user,” the second man shakes his head.

The first one snarls with a smile, "You a copper?"

"Heavens, no!" Ralph laughs. "Not to worry, gentleman, I'm no telltale, your secret is safe with me!"

"I'm not buying it," the second one looks at Ralph with an upturned nose. "I reckon he's a snitch."

"Well, only one way to prove it, innit," the first one grins uncomfortably at Ralph as he gestures towards the counter. "Care to join us?" he asks in a voice that mocks Ralph's.

“Well, if you insist, I - straight from the counter?” Ralph asks in disgust, but the chorusing snarl answers him quite adequately. “I suppose beggars can’t be choosers!”

Just as he finishes the first line, he’s interrupted by a loud, “RALPH! Fucking hell, get your head out of there! What the fuck is wrong with you two dickheads?!” Connor grabs Ralph by the back of his jumper and throws him back. “You alright? How much have you had?”

“Oh please, it was barely even a full line, it’s nothing,” Ralph insists, to both Connor and Scott’s baffled expressions.

“We don’t have time to unpack that right now,” Connor throws Ralph in Scott’s direction at the emphasis, causing Ralph to trip over his own feet through both of the steps it takes to get there, and Scott catches him, trying to get a good look at his eyes. Connor turns to the two men. “Alright, look.”

“Don’t know that I feel up to much talking,” one snarls.

Connor pulls a sarcastic expression. “Oh yeah, beat a guy up in the same room your coke’s still out for the world to see, good one(!) Shut the fuck up, yeah? We didn’t see anything, neither did you. Just - I mean, what the fuck were you thinking, giving your shit away for free, to him?!”

The man shrugs, “Had to call his bluff, innit? Thought he was a narc.”

“Well, you thought wrong, didn’t you,” Connor sneers, remaining sarcastic as ever. “Just… Clean up and get the fuck out of here, yeah? C’mon,” he gestures for Scott and Ralph, who’s already starting to bounce on the balls of his feet, to get out.

~~~

Once you finally see all three boys re-emerge from the bathroom, as you’d asked the other two to check on Ralph, you notice something off amongst them. Ralph seems in far higher spirits than the others. You get up to meet them halfway and notice something white and powder-y on the edge of Ralph’s nostril. “The fuck is that?!” You ask incredulously.

Scott looks over and quickly pulls his shirt sleeve down to wipe at Ralph’s nose with it. “Nothing!” He lilts, though his expression as he flashes his eyes at you confirms your worst fears about it. Scott mutters, “We need to get him to a hospital.”

“No!” You and Ralph chorus loudly. You shush the man and hurriedly lie, “No, you’ve not seem him in a hospital, he’s fucking useless, faints the second he gets in, he hates it all, honestly. Give him here, just - I’ll take him back to the house, I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“I promise you all, I am fine, I’ve done far more than that in my years!” Ralph states. “Can we please just return to our night?”

“Respectfully, mate, you don’t know what this shit’s been laced with,” Connor warns. “I’m with Scott, I think hospital’s the best place.”

“And I’m telling you, it really fucking isn’t,” you hiss back at them. “He just needs to get back home so he can’t make any more bad decisions.” Ralph frowns at your words, but you ignore him.

“Alright, we’ll pack up,” Scott starts, but you stop him.

“No, no.” You sigh, “Look, it’s still your holiday, too. I’ll take him back, I’ll keep you guys updated, but you lot just enjoy the night without us, okay?”

“We really don’t mind,” Connor shakes his head, but you persist.

“Honestly. Just…Hang on a second.” You return to the table, spinning a tale of how Ralph’s got a migraine and so you’re going to take him home as you put your outdoor clothes on. Everyone still at the table calls out well-wishes for Ralph as you make your way back to him, informing the boys of what you’ve said, and you lead Ralph out of the door into the brisk evening air.

You walk in silence, not knowing what to say. You’re concerned about Ralph, obviously, but you’re also just so mad at him for doing something so stupid. Who accepts some rando’s offer of coke off a random pub sink?! What the fuck was he thinking?! And now, everyone else is enjoying their holiday while you spend it the way you spend every single day - babysitting a 25 year old man who acts without consequence because he doesn’t bear them, you do. You may as well be at home with him.

“You know,” Ralph finally breaks the silence as you walk up the street that the house is on, “I’m not a child. I knew what I was doing.”

You sigh, “Free drugs is a massive red flag, Ralph. You could have gotten into some serious shit.”

“Well clearly not if we’re just going straight back to the house,” he points out.

“Okay, Ralph, what do you want me to say when we get to the hospital? ‘Hi, I’ve got a man here who needs drugs pumped out of his system. Name? Ralph Penbury. Date of birth? February 1st 1901. Oh, what’s that? You’ve got him marked as being dead for the last 96 years? Then what’s he doing stood here?!’” Ralph goes quiet up until you get to the front door, where you press your hands into your face and groan. “Ugh, I’m sorry, Ralph. I shouldn’t have snapped like that, that wasn’t fair. I know you can’t help… That bit. But you can say no to drugs, surely?!” More silence. With a sad sigh, you unlock the door and let Ralph go ahead. “Want me to make you a cup of tea?” You ask, and he nods before running up the stairs.

You kick yourself internally for upsetting Ralph before then arguing with yourself. Why should you be apologising? You were right. It’s your holiday, too, and he should have thought more carefully. You have every right to be upset, yourself. But you’ll forgive Ralph for that, the way you always do, because you already know you’re going to lose him at some point, and that’s going to be painful enough, and if you can put it off for as long as possible, you’re going to. 

He pads back into the kitchen in his pyjamas, looking at you with his big doe eyes as you hand him a hot mug full of tea. “It seems to be the ordinary stuff,” he states, “because it’s only just about affecting me. Same way it always does.”

“Did you… Do it often?” You ask slowly. “To cope with stuff?”

“Heavens, no, it’s no coping mechanism!” He shakes his head. “Cocaine’s always been a staple at Penbury socials. It’s… Acquiring and using it was always the thing people liked having me around for,” he explains quietly as he takes a big sip from his mug. “It barely affects me these days, just makes me… More likeable, I suppose.”

Of course there’s a dreadfully sad story to go along with this. Just more fuel for you to feel bad about snapping at him. You walk over to him and wrap your arms around his shoulders as he continues drinking. “You know how much we all like having you around the way you are, Ralph. I mean, we might be able to make a citizen out of you yet if we just claim you as Scott and his partner’s adopted child!” You joke, and Ralph lets out a small, breathy laugh. 

“It’s… Hard to believe, still. Sometimes. Sorry,” he mutters, leaning down to rest his head against yours.

“You have to trust us, Ralphie,” you squeeze him gently, “that’s part of having friends. You like having us around, right?” He nods violently. “Right! So part of making sure we stay around is knowing we want to. If you don’t trust that people wanna be your friend, they’re gonna assume you don’t want them to be.”

“Is that what Scott and Connor will think of me, now?” he asks sadly.

“Well no, because they don’t know… That, what you’ve just told me.”

Even more quietly, he asks, “…Do you -?”

“Are you really asking me if I want you around?” You ask, raising your eyebrows at him. “Have I not done enough to prove my case there?!”

“More than,” he admits, still quiet. He takes another long sip and asks, “Does the TV here have all the films that we would have back at home?”

“Wanna watch Little Shop of Horrors while you come down?” You ask, amused, as Ralph nods in response. You let him curl up to lay his head on your lap as you both watch the film from the sofa Connor’s been sleeping on, Ralph’s foot tapping against the arm of it along with each song.

The rest of the gang return just before the movie ends, and they’re all happy to see that Ralph looks in relatively good condition. The pair of you retire to the bed soon after. Too tired to change out of your day clothes, you simply crawl into your side and sleep, forgetting to wish Ralph goodnight in your exhaustion.

You all decide that Thursday shall be another day on the pier, with Friday being a packing-up day due to the night out you have planned, so that you don’t have to worry about packing with a hangover and can head back as soon as you’re feeling well enough to on Saturday.

You start the day out in the arcade again, firstly making sure that you, Anna, Grace, Scott and Connor get your annual photos in the booth as per every year for as long as you can remember. You show Ralph and the others photos you have on your phone of reels from years past, to which they take great delight in seeing you all in younger years. “It’s nice to have friends that last,” Ralph smiles, and it makes your heart sink. Comments like that help your brain to justify keeping Ralph around regardless. He needs to be here, with his friends, with the people he loves and who love him. There’s been no major consequence so far. You start to wonder if there ever would be.

You quickly pull yourself from that train of thought, instead opting for the certainty of being out with your friends. Grace pulls Ralph towards the dance mats, itching to teach him, and you allow yourself to stand back with Grace’s boyfriend to watch them. Ralph may stomp on each arrow with such force that the ground shakes beneath you, but there’s no way you can comment on that when his face is lit up that much.

You lose track of him when Connor pulls him away to show him a shooting game, instead opting to go for one of the coin-pushers yourself. It seems as though Ralph also didn’t last long with that particular game, nor does he have the patience to wait for your tactical plays as he starts grabbing coins from your pot and placing them in the slots from behind you excitedly. You giggle uncontrollably as he keeps putting coins in and smugly adding the occasional, “See?” when a whole pile drops.

It’s only when you feel your back collide against his chest that you’re brought back to your senses, and you tug at his arm until you’re standing beside him instead, trying to keep your tone playful with an, “Alright, then, if you wanna play that way, don’t let me stop you!” as you find another game that’s easy ticket fodder.

Eventually, you tell Ralph that it’s time for him to face his ultimate fear, that you’re all going to ride the Crazy Mouse roller coaster. He nods, still agreeing to go on it with you all, though he remains quiet. Once you’re in the line for it, you try and brush your hand against his again to let him know you’re there for him, but he makes no attempt to hold it. You hope it’s because he’s getting braver, but his stoic expression doesn’t exactly give you that impression.

Since today is warmer than the others, none of you had really decided to wear hats today, which makes the state you all end up in after being spun and thrown around the roller coaster track all the more hilarious. Ralph’s curls especially are in full force, sticking up in all directions, which the fans who recognise him today point out a lot. You notice there are more today than ever before and check his name on Twitter to see your suspicions confirmed - people are starting to publicly announce sightings of Ralph in the wild, which is leading to people congregating with the sheer hopes of seeing him out in the wild. You’re not sure how many more of these appearances you can take.

You return to the hook-a-duck stall so that Ralph can proudly show off Clarence to the man running the stall. A young man with a mullet pouts about how he was told that he wasn’t “allowed” to keep a duck, even though it matched the red beanie his friend is wearing even today. The man behind the stall simply explains that Ralph was more charming, to the hat-wearer’s amusement.

You go back to playing more games until the people working the arcade inform you that it’s nearly closing time. All of you band your tickets together and divide them fairly to redeem a prize each, though Ralph insists that he doesn’t get a share. He is more than happy with Clarence alone. If only you’d known sooner that the best way to placate Ralph would be to stick a hook in a rubber duck’s head.

Connor picks a box that contains fuzzy car dice, “for a laugh”. It certainly does raise a lot of laughs when he opens the box to find that the ones he’s ended up with are pink, but he shrugs it off. Scott and his partner pick out as many Pokémon cards as their tickets will allow them to, Grace gets a toy monkey with magnets in its hands and feet while her boyfriend picks out an inflatable guitar. Despite having already won a rather large teddy at the can game the other day, you take pity on another soft toy that clearly looks like it got into a fight with the manufacturer and came out losing, opting to take it home with you. Ralph looks at it fearfully, and you shake it at him jokingly.

Friday holds the weight of being the last full day away. Everything feels as though it's happening in slow motion, that it isn't in real time. It doesn’t entirely help that the day is filled with the mundane act of packing until the real thing to look forward to later tonight, which now feels eons away.

 When it finally reaches lunchtime, you talk the others into getting delivery. “Whatever happened to the ‘we should get out of the house, lazybones’ mentality, eh?” Connor teases.

“Do you feel up to being there while Ralph gets accosted by fans again?” you ask bluntly. “Besides, you should see Twitter today, it’s obsessive,” you pull a face of disgust as you scroll through posts to show your friends.

“These people need Jesus,” pipes up Grace’s boyfriend.

“You said it, babe,” Grace herself adds. “Surprised they haven’t realised he’s staying here and started camping out.” Scott tentatively looks out of the window, but nods in relief to confirm that nobody’s waiting out there.

You decide to make it the feast to end all feasts, each of you ordering food from different places and all sitting amongst your plethora of food to talk about your highlights of the whole trip, compare photos and overall just enjoy each others’ company. Even Ralph seems to perk up, which you’re glad about. He’d been pretty reserved all morning, which makes sense given how dull the day’s events have been, but you’re glad to see that there isn’t something else keeping him quiet.

Finally, the night is upon you. Everyone’s promised that they’ll all be on watch in case anyone tries to approach Ralph, either weird fanatic or potential danger, so that you can just switch off and enjoy your last night before returning to London.

You feel as though you may get to really enjoy it when you catch the attention of a man who’s far from unattractive. He keeps making eye contact with you from where he’s stood at the bar and flashing his eyes in invitation. After a few pep talks with the girls, who seem a little hesitant at first but soon warm to the idea of you having a night where you finally get to flirt and be flirted with, and just get to feel special for a night. And who knows, maybe that’ll be all it is. Maybe you won’t even spend your last night back at the house. After all, what’s a holiday for if not to live totally differently to how you would at home?

When you finally approach the bar, he smirks, “Look who finally made a decision!”

“Look who’s already blowing their shot!” you reply in the same lilted tone, making him laugh. You exchange names and he offers to buy you a drink. This is everything you’ve been needing to fill your confidence gauge - mostly banter, with the occasional ice-breaker question and the more than occasional compliment thrown your way. And honestly, the way he already matches your wit without you constantly needing to explain yourself, or reassure that you’re joking, just makes him even more attractive in the moment.

Ralph watches on from a distance, absolutely seething. Of course, you deserve to be happy. He knows that. He knows that you clearly wouldn’t be happy with him, and that’s why you’ve been keeping him at arm’s length, constantly putting the time travelling situation between you and him. But Ralph absolutely cannot stand to see it happening in front of his eyes. And so, with nothing stopping him, he marches over to you and taps your arm. “Hello!”

Not expecting any interruptions, you jolt, “Jesus, Ralph, you scared the shit out of me! Uh, yeah, this is Ralph, my - flatmate,” you explain.

“That’s right, we live together back at home as well as here!” Ralph beams falsely at the other man. “So, what are we talking about?”

The man laughs awkwardly under his breath as he shuffles in place and you say through gritted teeth, “Uh, Ralph, do you think maybe Connor wants to talk to you?”

“Oh, heavens, no, he’s got a pair of young women on the go himself, the dog!” Ralph scoffs.

“Seems as though two is an awful lot of people for just one of him to manage. Think you could take one off his hands?” you ask, again trying to make it very obvious that you want him to leave.

He doesn’t seem to be taking the hint, though. “Oh, I’d only interrupt them!”

“How terrible that would be.” You deadpan, before addressing the man you’d been talking to. “I’m so sorry, I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be here,” he tips his glass to you. “Don’t forget, it’s your turn to buy the next round!”

You shoot him a flirtatious smile and grab Ralph’s wrist to tug him away. “Listen, Ralph, mate, I think maybe… You should spend tonight more around one of the others, than with me. Yeah?”

“But what if I slip up and mention something about… The situation at hand?” he asks, gesturing at himself.

You tut exasperatedly, “I dunno, then maybe… Just really try not to bring it up? It’s not that hard, you haven’t done it yet. I just… I really needed this, Ralph. Please?”

“Are you going to leave me in the bed alone tonight?” he asks quietly. Sadly.

You sigh. “I dunno. Maybe? We’re all adults here, Ralph, you’ve spent long enough being able to sleep in my bed by yourself, I’m sure someone else’s won’t be too different.” You find Grace, who’s with her boyfriend and Anna, and park Ralph with all of them before returning to your date for the evening.

Ralph’s only half-listening to whatever everyone else is talking about. His attention is laser-focused on that man. His hair is the same colour as Ralph’s, and it’s curly just like his, but there’s more of it. His eyes are the same colour as Ralph’s, but they’re obscured with glasses. He’s taller than Ralph, and he makes you laugh more than Ralph does, and if the cup he’s holding was made of anything other than glass, Ralph would have certainly squeezed it out of shape by now, if not broken it entirely.

While the girls take a momentary bathroom break, Grace’s boyfriend nudges Ralph. “You alright, mate? You look like the nerves are taking over. Wanna do a couple shots with me? It’ll take the edge off.”

Ralph agrees, hoping that perhaps the blanket of numbness over his brain that only alcohol causes will keep it quiet. Grace’s boyfriend has already paid for the shots when Ralph looks at them in horror. The last time he saw a shot glass filled with clear liquid, it resulted in all kinds of emotions. Still, perhaps it’s another clear spirit. Perhaps it won’t make Ralph feel the way he did that night.

Or maybe this is also vodka, and once both the shots that Ralph takes hit, perhaps he’s on his way back over to you. “Hello, again!”

You look at your date with resignation. He looks back at you with sympathy. It’s him who regards the new third wheel in the conversation, “Alright, mate? Ralph, isn’t it? How you doing?”

Ralph pays him no attention at all. “I fear I have once again gotten myself into a predicament,” he tells you.

“You’re a big boy, I’m sure you can get yourself out of it,” you flash warning eyes at Ralph to get back to literally anyone else.

He shakes his head, “No, no, it’s, um. It’s something you had explained to me. What are the different drinks that make me feel different things, again?”

You hold your hand to your head. “Ralph, mate… Do you feel as if something’s been put in your drink, or…?”

“I’m not sure what that would feel like,” he frowns, “but you know these things better than I do!”

“Here, look,” the man you’d been talking to stands up straight. So tall. “This has been great. Really great. But I think your flatmate needs you tonight, so… I’ll see you around, yeah?”

You shake your head dejectedly. “We literally go back to London first thing in the morning.”

He frowns at you sympathetically. “You’ve got a phone though, right?” You take it out to find that it’s out of battery.

You curse internally, “Knew there was something I forgot to do tonight. I’m so sorry.”

“Well. Perhaps in another time. It was lovely meeting you.” He looks Ralph up and down with a slight look of jealous defeat. “You too, mate,” he adds to Ralph through gritted teeth before stroking your arm once more, letting it linger for as long as possible until he walks away.

Something in you finally snaps. Every part of you is just… So done with Ralph right now. And he has the audacity to perk up again once it’s just the two of you?! “What the fuck was that about, Ralph?!”

“Well, I was just going to say that Grace’s… Gentleman friend had bought me some of those shots and I think they’re the sort that have the effect on me that you remember better than I,” Ralph explains with a slight shrug.

You shake your head. “Nah, nah, there’s more to it than that. I made it very clear that I was hitting it off with him, and I just wanted a night where I could -” You cut yourself off, but Ralph feels the tension, soaking it in himself.

“Oh, go on and get it over with, won’t you?” Ralph asks, once again playing the sad card. “It’s obvious there’s things you want to say to me, just say them to my face, please.”

“Okay, you know that’s not fair when you pull that shit, because then it makes me feel bad when I am allowed to be pissed off at you!” you snap. “You want me to say it to your face?! Alright, how’s about this, then. Having you at my ankles 24/7 is fucking exhausting, Ralph. I can’t even go on one night out and talk to one person that isn’t you, I - I didn’t sign up to be some random guy’s mother -”

“I do not see you like I would Mother!” Ralph defends, offence very obvious in his expression.

“Then why am I the one always cooking for you, always cleaning for you, always fucking working overtime because I’m paying for your bills and your food and your clothes -”

“Because, as you keep telling me, I’m not a real person here!” Ralph hisses through his teeth.

“It’s not just that, though, it’s the attitude that comes with it. You are so used to your little rich boy life that you don’t see how much I’m going through. My back is in constant fucking agony from months on that godawful sofa. I don’t get a single day off to myself anymore. I mean, fuck, you’ve had more dates than I have since you got here! I supported you putting yourself out there, even though it was one of the stupidest risks you could have taken -”

“Well, it’s a good job that didn’t work out then, isn’t it? Because once again, nobody wants anything to do with Ral-”

“Here it is again. I can’t just feel something, you have to also be feeling it twice as hard so that you’re the focus here, I - I can’t have anything for myself anymore!” you shout exasperatedly. “Not even one night where for once, I get to feel wanted. I - y’know, everyone fucking falls at their feet for you, you’ve even had people ask you out while we’re here! And nothing was stopping you if you wanted to! But the moment I want to indulge in the idea that maybe someone out there would show an interest in me -”

Ralph scoffs, “That man was only interested in one thing to do with you, and it’s much too vulgar. You deserve to be courted in the appropriate -”

“We’re not in the 1920s anymore, Ralph!” You press your fingers to your temples. “It’s not a bad thing for someone to just… Want you like that. And even then, let’s hash this out. Let’s say I could have been courted by him. You think someone like that is gonna think I’m worth sticking around for when I’ve got another man constantly in my shadow, fighting for my attention? I mean, fuck, what are you gonna do without me when you go back, eh?”

“Ah, again with the going home!” Ralph’s voice is audibly slurring by now. “It’s all you ever want to talk about with me, just tell me the truth already, it’ll hurt less. Tell me you can’t wait to be rid of me.”

“For fuck’s sake, Ralph, I don’t want you gone! Far fucking from it! But I’m not gonna mess with shit we know nothing about, and putting everything back where it was is logically the best thing to do.”

Ralph looks on the verge of crying. “So, that’s it, then. I’m not even worth a -one, I’m just a -thing now.”

“No, that’s not -” You take a deep breath. “Look. We’re going off on tangents that don’t even make fucking sense now. I’m going back to the house. To the bed, don’t worry your fragile little head, I’m not gonna go stand on a street corner like the harlot I am,” you pull a face, blinking back your own tears. “Thank you for ruining the one week a year I actually look forward to.”

You storm away from Ralph, though you find most of the group congregated together at the bar. You stop by them to explain that you and Ralph got into a fight, that you don’t want to talk about it but could they please just make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. They promise that they will, and so you head out of the bar, straight into one of the parked taxis and finally let yourself cry as it drives you back to the house.

next chapter

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

[joeybaboo20]

More incorrect quotes!

Percy: Smart is attractive. Educate me on something I don't know! Annabeth: The mouth of a jellyfish is also an anus. Percy: Stop.

Annabeth: I personally don't think it's possible to come up with a crazier plan. Percy: We could attack them with hummus. Annabeth: I stand corrected. Percy: Just keeping things in perspective.

Percy: Oh, fiddlesticks! That really ruffles my feathers! Annabeth: Please, just say fuck.

Annabeth: Oh man, you have any shaving cream? Percy: No, I don't like the way that it tastes. Annabeth: Wait… you eat shaving cream? Percy: No. Why would I eat it if I don't like the taste.

Jason: We have to plan, we have to figure something out. Leo: Jason, when have any of our plans ever actually worked? We plan, we get there, all hell breaks loose.

Annabeth: Someone care to explain why we have 6 dogs in our apartment? Percy: They're golden retrievers, dude. They retrieve gold. I did this for us.

Annabeth: Percy, I beg of you. Please, PLEASE go to the doctor. Percy: Hey, I'm sorry. Is this OUR stab wound?

Piper: Whether or not I pay income taxes is none of the government's business. Frank: No, well, actually, it is. Piper: You don't know my name or what I look like, good luck finding me.

Nico: Hey, Annabeth. Why did the chicken cross the road? Annabeth: To get to the other side? Nico: You were supposed to say “I dunno, why?“ Annabeth: Uh… fine. I don’t know. Why did it cross the road? Nico: To get to the idiot’s house. Annabeth: …Ok? Piper: Hey, Annabeth. Knock knock. Annabeth: No. Piper: You were supposed to say “who’s there?” Annabeth: Fine… let’s get this over with. Who’s there? Piper: The chicken. Annabeth: Piper: Nico: Annabeth: Listen here you little shits-

Percy: It's pretty cold outside.. wanna hold hands? We should stay close. Annabeth, blushing: Okay. Frank: It's fucking summer.

Percy: You can do it Piper! Percy: But if you can't, at least your death will be quick, painless, and really cool to watch.

Leo: Percy has discovered "deez nuts" jokes and it's all they say now. Everything is deez nuts. They simply can't stop. Leo: I asked Percy where they learned that joke. They made me promise they wouldn't get in trouble if they told me. I agreed. Leo: So they lean in and whisper, "deez nuts."

Percy: walks into the room Jason: They’re covered in blood again. Why is it they’re always covered in blood? Annabeth: Well, it looks like it’s their own blood this time.

#pjo #incorrect percy jackson #incorrect pjo quotes #hoo #percy jackson incorrect quotes #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo hoo toa #toa #annabeth pjo #annabeth chase #frank zhang #frank pjo #hazel levesque #hazel pjo #nico di angelo #nico pjo #jason grace #jason pjo #piper mclean #piper pjo #leo valdez #leo pjo

[incorrect-targon-quotes]

Atreus: So you were never gonna bring up the fact that you sealed away all the Darkin and now they all want to kill you? 

Zoe: First of all, it wasn't me, it was Myisha. Second of all, I handled it! And third of all, if you're getting stressed out about the Darkin I'm never gonna tell you about Fiddlesticks.

Atreus: I'm sorry, about WHO?

Zoe: ...

Atreus: Did you just say Fiddlesticks? 

Zoe: It's not really important right now.

Atreus: Like THE fucking Fiddlesticks? The primordial demon of fear in ancient legend, THAT Fiddlesticks?! 

Zoe: YES! Fiddlesticks, I think Myisha owed it money or something, is that really what you want to focus on right now? 

Atreus: YEAH! A LITTLE BIT! HOW DID MYISHA OWE IT MONEY?!

Zoe: I DON'T KNOW, AND FRANKLY, I GOT OTHER STUFF GOING ON RIGHT NOW!

Atreus: WHAT OTHER SHIT DO YOU HAVE GOING ON THAT IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN OWING THE PRIMORDIAL FUCKING DEMON OF FEAR MONEY?!

Zoe: I DON'T KNOW MAN! That's just my job! Sometimes you owe money to a demon and sometimes you uncover an ancient World Rune and kick off the Rune Wars, THAT'S THE GIG! 

#incorrect targon quotes #incorrect quotes #league of legends zoe #league of legends atreus #league of legends pantheon #zoe #atreus #pantheon #league of legends #riot games #submission #swearing #source: thepandaredd

[doobnnoob-tf2]

thanks for feeding me with pyro content! really appreciated :').

now when it comes to the BIGGER brainrot. any thoughts on sniperspy eventually behaving as scout's parents somehow? would they even? does he get used to that? etc etc. after the whole reveal, of course.

(and wow. never been nicknamed before. as a fiddlesticks main in league, thank you lmao). –🎻

to start, Stepdad!Sniper is my favorite thing, Fiddle.  especially taking into consideration he’s only 3 years older than Scout

it’s mostly a joke for Sniper, he’ll pull the whole “now Scout, as your new stepfather..” just to watch him get all flustered

Sniper and Scout are pretty good friends, Sniper is usually the first one Scout goes to as a recruit for any antics he wants to get into

Spy will absolutely let them get away with anything and he just doesn’t care, a) they’re both grown adult men he doesn’t control them and b) they’re not bothering HIM so it’s not his problem

“also, Sniper is feral and I didn’t raise Scout so you can take his behavior up with his mother”

when the fact Sniper and Spy are a thing comes to light, Scout was just baffled that they even actually get along well enough to start a relationship because they’re polar opposites.  eventually he just gets over it much like everyone else

it’s when Spy being his dad is revealed and the dust has settled and things become normal that Scout has a moment of “oh dude gross that’s my DAD” when he catches Sniper flirting with Spy

Sniper cranks it up to 11 after that because he thinks it’s funny

branching off my domestic SniperSpy stuff, post-contracts and while they’re living in France, Scout actually does visit regularly, sometimes unannounced

he’s pretty good at calling first to ask if he can come by after he accidentally stopped by while they were away on a trip

but when he comes by without saying anything, they’ve come to realize he’s had something go on in his life and he really just wanted to spend time with them and doesn’t wanna admit it

there have been times they were just about to leave and had to scramble to get an extra train ticket for him so he could tag along

he won’t ever call Sniper dad or anything like that, but he does come around to see him as something like an older male figure in his life, and in return Sniper almost develops some sort of bond with him and gets very protective over him

Sniper caught someone from Scout’s childhood trying to tease him for his dad having left his mom for another man despite that very much not being how things went down, and when he noticed Scout was actually looking kinda hurt over it, found the guy in an alleyway and broke his fingers one by one until he agreed to go apologize

he’s still not as bad as Spy, who “allegedly” has made people go missing (aka nothing is alleged he just won’t confirm nor deny it, people have gone missing)

Spy will also jokingly ground Sniper when he’s getting on his nerves

really nothing changes, Sniper and Scout just use it as an excuse to hang out more but neither of them really feel any real father-son sorta thing, it just becomes a joke between the three of them that they all laugh about

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 headcanons #tf2 scout #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy #dad spy #stepdad sniper #the husbands #//Fiddle Anon

[twoidiotwriters1]

Until The Very End -(WITS Sequel)

A/N: I am sobbing them having a family and finally enjoy the peace they always dreamed of... I’m insane for this -Danny

Words: 2,708

Masterlist

Previous chapter // Next chapter

September—December 2004

Having twins wasn't as hard as they thought it'd be. They've had enough practice thanks to the time spent babysitting all the children. The real problem came when they realized they couldn't hand back the twins to their parents when things got complicated— because they were the parents.

Their sleeping schedules were a mess, whenever the twins were asleep was a good time for them too. Harry left Ron in charge and he was now taking a break so he could help Mel at home. Erick and Anne weren't able to, little Eliot Flint was close to arriving and Josie was taking most of their time, without mentioning they also had a six-year-old and a four-year-old to look after.

"I don't know how they do it," Mel whispered to Harry once she'd managed to put her twins to bed. "They look so well-rested all the time!"

"Anne's used to a busy life, helping her parents at the farm and all," Harry yawned, falling back on the bed with only his trousers on. "And Erick... well, he's Erick. That git always looks good."

"One day he'll get older— grey hairs and wrinkles," Mel crawled onto the mattress and fell next to him with a quiet groan. "Maybe he won't be good-looking then."

"I'll look like the sorting hat," Harry complained half-asleep.

"Fiddlesticks," she tilted her head to the side and kissed his cheek. "You'll be annoyingly pretty, like always."

Harry chuckled, eyes closed. "You're my wife, you have to say that."

"Well, I'm your wife so my opinion should be the only one that matters," she raised a brow. "Would you like it if I spent my days sulking because Isaac Movak has moved on to a prettier, younger girl?"

He seemed to wake up with that, and he frowned. "He did what?"

"Oh, he hasn't, but some men think women are less attractive once they're mothers..." Mel shrugged, sitting up to take off her shoes and socks.

"Well, I think you're breathtaking."

"You say that because you're my husband," she teased him.

Harry grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back, towering over her. Mel let out a short yelp that she had to cover with her hand.

"Don't wake them!" Harry looked over his shoulder at the babies. His eyes focused on them frantically.

"Don't do that, then!" She scolded him in a whisper, slapping his chest. "You caught me by surprise!"

"Sorry." Harry kissed her, but when things were starting to get interesting, Emmeline began to cry. Mel pushed the young man away and went to pick up her baby so she wouldn't wake her brother. "Sometimes it feels like they do it on purpose..." Harry muttered in a bad mood.

"They probably do," she grinned. "They want me for themselves a little longer..."

"I had you first," he replied childishly. "Can't I have five minutes in private with my wife..."

"Just five minutes?" Mel tried not to laugh. "Then I'm glad she woke up! Nothing worth doing takes five minutes."

He snorted. "Give her here..." he took Emmeline from her, Harry's gaze shifted, and he spoke in a quiet, gentle voice. "What if I'm a terrible father?"

"Harry..." Mel said in a tone of warning.

He shook his head. "I don't remember how my dad was... I grew up with Uncle Vernon as my only example..."

"Just be you."

"I've never been a dad," he gave her an annoyed look. "I've been a leader, a friend, but this... How am I supposed to know?"

She put a hand on his shoulder. "Your father loved you with all his heart, Harry. That's all it takes. You love and care. We won't be able to help them all the time, but we don't have to. Just hold their hand the same way you do with mine. That's enough."

Harry's frown deepened. "What if they don't like me?"

"What if they hate me?" Mel offered casually. "Being a Dumbledore puts too much weight on a kid's shoulders. There'll be a moment when they find out who we were, and who we are outside this house. What if they resent us because of it?"

Harry took the questions like they were absurd. "All I did, I did it thinking of you, and what we could have together once the war ended. I never cared for the rest."

"That's your answer, then," she kissed his cheek. "They'll love you because you loved them even before they even existed. Trust me, Harry. They are my children too, and if they're anything like me, nothing in this world can make them hate you."

"But you did hate me at some point," he said heavily.

To his surprise, Mel laughed. "Oh, Harry, it wasn't hatred," she told him. "I hated that I couldn't have you. I loved you so much I was angry about the distance, that was all."

Harry nodded a bit, then he made his way to the crib and laid their girl on it once she was calm, he stared at Emmeline and James for a moment, a strange look in his eyes. "Let's go to bed."

The routine had finally gone back to normal for a bit... then Hermione got pregnant.

"Babies! Everywhere I look!" Fred cried dramatically. "Can you people stop for just a second? Give me a break!"

"Why don't you travel with Jo for a while, Fred, it sounds like you need it," Erick smirked.

"I don't mind the babies," Regulus spoke up. He was getting taller slowly but surely, and this was giving him more confidence in himself. "More kids means more birthdays, which means cake."

"And more kids to boss around, right?" Mel asked knowingly.

"I don't boss them around," the boy turned up his nose. "They like to listen to me."

"Don't fight with your brother," Emily warned her.

"I'm not fighting, if that were the case he would lose, 'cause I'm older than him. Anyway," Mel turned to Hermione. "Those are wonderful news, 'Mione!"

"You better pray you don't get twins, Ronnie," Fred teased him. "Runs in the family, after all."

"Mine were Harry's fault," Mel stated.

"We don't know that," Harry scowled.

"A Dumbledore's never wrong, Glasses."

"Anne and I decided we'll only have one more kid and then—"

"I thought you would stop after Elliot?" Mel laughed. They were on their way back home, and Erick had decided to bring up the subject after Hermione's news.

"Anne thinks five's better."

"Oh, so it's all Anne's doing, then? You have nothing to do with it?" Harry grinned.

"I like big families," he admitted. "The Weasleys are a cheerful lot, aren't they? I couldn't help myself, I always dreamed of having what they have..."

"You have it," Mel patted his shoulder. "But I warn you, it might not be as fun once they hit puberty."

"Guess where the World Cup will take place this year!" Ginny went up to them happily.

"Where?"

"France!" She exclaimed. "You guys have to go!"

Mel and Harry shared a look. "Dunno, Ginny, the twins are so small..."

"By then they'll be a year old! C'mon, Ron and Hermione said they'd go!"

"But 'Mione's pregnant," Mel insisted. "Not the same as having to look after two babies..."

"Your mother said she'd come! She's taking Reggie! Remus and Tonks are taking the boys too!"

"What about Erick?"

"Oh, you know he's not a fan, but I think Anne will go and she'll bring Emily."

Harry sighed. "We'll think about it."

Ginny seemed to understand as she spoke, although she did look a little disappointed. "Don't feel pressured to, but I'd like it if you were there. It's my first World Cup, after all..."

Once she left, Mel turned to her husband.

"I know that look," Harry shook his head with a bit of amusement. "You're already thinking about it, aren't you?"

"Well, the twins like Quidditch," she offered with a tiny guilty smile.

"They enjoy watching things flying around, not the same as liking Quidditch," he raised a brow and crossed his arms. "Dunno, Mel, aren't they too young?"

"They'll be a year old by that time," she replied eagerly. Truth was she was just as excited about it as anyone else, the last time she'd gone... well, it hadn't been exactly perfect. "Perhaps we can make it work?"

"Jamie, please just finish your bottle," Mel begged him on the verge of tears. "Leen had no problem with hers, why are you not eating?"

"Give that here for a moment..." Harry asked gently, Mel could be very irritable when she was this tired. He tried to reach for the bottle. "Please..."

Mel handed him the item, and Harry examined it. He turned it upside down and pressed, but nothing came out of it. "Huh, did we just buy this one?" He frowned. "I think the hole is sealed up. It's defective."

Mel started crying for real. "I'm a terrible mother!" She blurted out. "The whole hour I was scolding James for not eating and he couldn't even— nothing was coming out! He's probably so hungry..." The young woman held her baby tighter against her, which didn't help James to feel more comfortable and made him squirm even more.

"He's alright," Harry tried to ease her. "I'll fix it, it's really simple... I'll change the tip and it'll be ready to go..."

"What am I going to do once you go back to the Ministry?" she sobbed, nuzzling James's little head miserably. "I'm a lousy mum!"

"Stop that," he said, speaking in a slightly firm voice. "You're weary, it's easy to make mistakes when we can't think properly." Harry took James from her arms. "Go to sleep. I feel alright, I can watch the twins for a bit on my own."

"But—"

"Mel... shut up," he frowned. "We're not discussing it. You need sleep." She cleaned her face like a little kid. For a second Harry saw that little girl he'd helped many times to recover from her panic attacks. His heart softened. "You're tired," he insisted in a gentler voice. "But you've been brilliant so far, everyone says so."

"You think so?" She sniffed.

"I do. I'm very proud of you, and I would like you to go and rest, I need you to be okay too. So do the twins."

"Okay," she nodded, already feeling her eyes closing.

"Thank you," he leaned to kiss her forehead. "Now go, I have a baby to feed."

"This girl is squirmish!" Ron complained.

Mel laughed. "You asked me to let you change her, don't whine."

Harry was working again, and the twins were well aware of his absence, cause they were crying a lot more than before. Ron offered to help her, his boss was especially willing to let him go, anyway.

"Jamesie's next, so you better get to work," she said.

"Smile!" Hermione exclaimed.

Ron and Mel looked toward the doorstep, Hermione had found Mel's old camera. "Wait!" Ron exclaimed, he finished his work on Emmeline, it was messy and bulky, but done at last. "The babies aren't ready!"

"Well, do it quickly!" Hermione laughed.

Mel lifted her son and sat him next to his twin sister, Ron was holding Emmeline straight. Both babies were looking at Hermione with the same Dumbledorish light-blue eyes.

Once Elliot Flint was born, it was hard to keep up with all the toys, baby clothes, and children that were around their home. Weekly, Mel and Harry would have small visitors on their property, more so now that Bill and Fleur were taking their girls to visit so they could spend time with the rest of the children.

George and Angelina were taking his son and daughter as well, they were closer to Elizabeth and Josephine in age, so they were always together. For some reason, Erick's home was as popular with the children as it was Mel's, maybe because even if he was a wonderful parent to the girls, he was still Erick.

He liked the loud scandal his daughters made, but the rest of the children seemed to be a little afraid of him, even if he was always good to them, he'd never outgrown that aura of haughtiness. The only boy who seemed not to fear him was Regulus, and that was because he'd grown up with him.

Little Regulus, who was no longer little, but an eight-year-old with strikingly smart grey eyes and a smile that reminded you who was his father. As the eldest boy in the lot, he was pretty much worshipped by the others, he was their leader and protector from the scary things lurking out in the forest and under beds, and there was a certain little girl who seemed to blush a lot because of it.

"Mel, is your brother coming this weekend?" Em knelt next to her and handed her the watering can.

"I think so," the young woman replied, thanking her briefly. "Why?"

Emily blushed and smiled bashfully, but she didn't reply. Mel shifted her position so she was crouching face to face, and smiled at the little girl with amusement. "Emi?"

The girl giggled and scurried away, Anne walked up to Mel carrying a sleeping James in her arms, his unruly light-brown hair was already growing at a surprising speed. Mel looked up at her and beamed.

"Is Emmeline asleep already?" Her friend nodded and winked at her, Mel sighed in relief. "Your hands are magical, really."

"You'll learn as well, you just need a bit of practice," Anne grinned. "Was Emily rambling about your brother again?"

Mel got up and brushed the dirt off her knees. "Oh, so that's what's happening?"

Anne nodded again, laughing a little. "You know Erick likes to read her and the other girls before bed, but I think she's decided little Leon as her brave knight."

Mel chortled, she could imagine how Regulus would take the news. "Really? Well, I guess it makes sense, he's quite protective of her and her sisters."

"Oh, he's good to all the kids, but she's completely convinced she'll get him to promise to marry her."

"Marry her?" Mel's brows rose in surprise. "Aren't they too young for that?"

"She is very much like her father in every way, it seems," Anne walked with Mel back to the backdoor of the house and into the kitchen. "Hopeless romantic, determined, and a little obsessive about the things she wants."

"Well, she's also kind, polite and charming, so who knows?" Mel replied humorously. "I'm not sure Reggie will like it altogether, though. He has no problem being a knight, but a husband? He's not very fond of marriage," she joked.

"I'm home!" Harry called, brushing off the snow from his shoulders.

The twins immediately stopped and looked up, squirming on the rug at the sound of their father's voice. Mel chuckled at the cute scene. "We're in the nursery!"

Harry climbed the steps two by two, and he found Mel seated on the floor making sure the babies played safely, they were barely four months old, but they were rather active and attentive, probably every parent thought that of their children, but Mel and Harry truly believed their babies were bound to be really bright.

Emmeline and James squealed happily when Harry came into view, the grin on the young man's face widened as he stepped forward, a light beard was once again covering his face, and Mel was definitely not complaining about it.

She made room for him and Harry sat, kissing her cheek affectionately. "Skeeter keeps trying to corner me around the Ministry to ask me about the twins. They're desperate to know their names and what they are."

"They're babies, what else do they need to know?" Mel asked with an absent smile, watching as James tried to crawl toward his dad.

"Apparently their names, their looks and sizes, and whether or not have they shown any signs of remarkable magic," Harry replied in the same tone, waiting patiently for his son to reach him.

Emmeline rolled over and squealed, her chubby little hands tried to push her back on her belly but she wasn't succeeding.

"Well it's obvious that they're the next Merlin," Mel joked.

Harry chortled, he finally picked up James and the little boy giggled, holding onto his dad's robes. The young man planted a tender kiss on his forehead. "They're perfect," he said lovingly, looking up at her with his lovely green eyes. "Everything is."

Mel leaned in and kissed him, James squealed once more at the proximity of his mother and Emmeline cried a bit with frustration, she was stuck. Mel picked her up and then she got to her feet, walking past Harry she ran a hand through his hair. "Are you hungry?"

"Very," he replied, getting up with James firmly tucked in his arms and following her out of the room.

Next Chapter—>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @reverse-hxlland @hamiltonwc @omiwashere @t-rexs-world @21bruhs @dielgonacoffee @thelastpyle @cedricisnotdead @greengarsstuff @aconfusedslytherin @talksoprettyjjx @avengersz-biotch @23victoria @moonhoonie @raajali3 @peachyaeger @espressopatronum454 @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual

#twoidiots writing #hp fanfic #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #harry potter xoc #WITT fic #UTVE fic

[ducktracy]

Would you say Mel Blanc was instrumental to Looney Tunes’s success?

OH WITHOUT A QUESTION! the LT characters are not the same without Mel Blanc and never will be. he is baked into their DNA.

Blanc isn’t the only voice actor who deserves praise—June Foray, Arthur Q. Bryan, Stan Freberg, Billy Bletcher, Sara Berner, Berneice Hansell, Kent Rogers, Bea Benaderet, Robert C. Bruce… the list goes on, and a lot of these voice actors do often what Blanc COULDN’T do! Blanc was insanely talented but just as easily recognizable—sometimes to subvert the audience most effectively depending on the context you need to use one of the “lesser known” guys to hit that range and AUTHENTICITY that Blanc maybe can’t hit because even a man of 1,000 voices has his limits.

and, as with everything, the success of the series is a vast amalgamation of aspects and a domino reaction that relies all on each other. i do absolutely believe the series wouldn’t have lasted as long as it did without Blanc, though. he WAS those characters. be brought a nuance to them that is genuinely irreplaceable—there’s a reason nobody else tried to voice the characters until he died

one of my biggest critiques of modern LT media is that i don’t feel they write the characters with Blanc’s cadence in mind. this can get tricky because his deliveries vary depending on the voice director, but i feel a lot of issues that are in modern adaptations could be smoothed out by asking “can i hear this line authentically and clearly in Mel Blanc’s voice?” before moving forward. if not, rewrite it, play it back in your head, and go from there. i do this constantly when i draw or have to write about the characters myself to a bit of an obsessive degree, but it’s efficient!

tying this back to the new batch of LTC shorts that dropped today (if you don’t want spoilers then skip ahead!), the Porky and Sylvester short really surprised me greatly because it’s very clear Porky was written with Blanc’s dialogue in mind and that’s not always the case. LTC is overabundant in its dialogue and not always for the better, and i think a part of what makes it seem even more talk-y is the writing itself depending on the context.

i watched these shorts this morning with captions on/no sound because i initially didn’t have an opportunity to play sound, and i found myself almost enjoying the short MORE without sound because the Blanc-isms in the writing were much more present. whether it’s something as menial as reusing a general exclamation Blanc has also used for the character like “oh fiddlesticks” or something more specific such as borrowing the same sentence syntax (much of the Porky/Sylvester shorts have Porky saying “you [cleverly patronizing and indignant insult] you” to Sylvester which they did in this one and that made me happy.

voice direction is another story, and for all of Bob Bergen’s talent his deliveries didn’t always sound 100% to Blanc’s intonation (but that’s a given, again asserting my point that Blanc is intertwined to these characters and they aren’t the same without him), there were a lot of quirks of Bergen’s—again, only natural—in his deliveries that make a bit of a disconnect between the Blanc inspired writing and the deliveries. but as a whole he did a GREAT job and is one of my favorite performances yet, LTC goes heavy on Porky yelling and screaming so it’s nice to hear some subtlety. writing with Blanc’s intonation in mind, even if it couldn’t entirely be replicated in delivery (which i don’t at all expect) proved to be very beneficial and again speaks to Blanc’s talent and importance to the characters. he is absolutely pivotal to the success of the series and the series/characters has and never will be the same without him.

#anonymous #asks #long post #ltc spoilers

[teeto-peteto]

Outside of the Ruined King crew and Nautilus because they're essentially co workers, are there any characters you think Pyke could strike up a friendship with?

Ooooh good question, some of then are part of the Sentinels of Light sooo:

Akshan: I think they could be a funny friendship, you know, death and life. They probably tease the shit out of each other. Mostly Akshan, but he's kind of a comforting person, if you get what im saying? Akshan is like, bright, and funny, and he's a tease. I think he could poke a chuckle out of Pyke if they got to know/interact a bit more.

Amumu: Dont know, he's little, he cries, strikes up with Pyke's childhood. Option 1. Pyke doesnt like physical touch, so he would just sit by Amumu trying to listen to his struggles as a little mummy. Option 2. Pyke wont mind physical touch and would actually hug Amumu, striked up with his childhood feeling enough. Amumu would be about to stuck a turret with his fucking head and he is like 'Woah woah wait there mate, not like that...' Dont know, i feel like Pyke could be, somewhat, a good caretaker.

Unrelated but im sad that Fiddlesticks didnt get an interaction with Pyke, as if im not fucking rooting to know his deepest fear.

Gweeeeeennnnn: Besties, swear to god. They are so different yet there's a lot of chemstry there. She's outgoing, and silly, and cute, he's the complete opposite, but he feels somewhat comfortable with it. Kinda like big brother/little sister type of friendship. Type of relationship where Pyke helps Gwen sharpen her scissors, she can just do it on her own but asks him just to keep him around for chit chat.

With K'Sante... i dont know, maybe? I imagine them sitting and asking questions about each other. As someone who ''accidentally'' pushed people away and keeps family close by to someone who purposefully pushes everyone away that has left family behind and viceversa. I think they'd have a nice chat...?

Kalista, obvious reasons, but also afraid they might just start stabbing each other in self defense. Could talk things out.

Kassadin, not a friendship but daddy issues. If he spends too much time around would probably accidentally call him 'dad' too.

Luciaaaaan: As seen in Sentinels of Light, Lucian is kinda more pleased for Pyke being there, way much more than Senna. They could talk, you know, 'I died' 'Same with my wife'. I just feel like they are the type of people that once they engage in small talk they click into deeper conversation. It'll just have to take a while for Senna to accept him and some Gwen pleading.

Malzahar: Dunno, voices *thumbs up*

Rek'Sai :) cant explain he's a shark man and she's a sand shark. If they're not friends then what are they? They're equally deadly.

Maybe Yone, you know? Tea party at the spirit realm? Yone, Senna, Pyke and Gwen? Could the Kindred join? Just for funsies? With cookies?

#'i have a lot of friends... specially on the depths' #'...but some land friends too...' #problem is that he's probably too much of a distant person #he just suddendly pops out of the scene and wont come back after some time #he needs his thinking time

[itsbrittanybiitch]

Incorrect AATC Quotes 12

Hello everyone! It is summertime and I have been neglecting my children so here we go! Also TW, There is some slight gore in this one

Future!Alvin: I have no respect for Santa. Don’t sneak in through the chimney and undermine my authority by bringing my family presents. Walk in through the front door and fight me like a man.

****************************************************

Simon: Name a more iconic duo than my crippling fear of abandonment and my anxiety. I’ll wait.

Jeanette: You and me!

Simon: *tearing up* Ok.

****************************************************

Alvin: I would do anything for money.

*later*

Alvin, covered in blood: THE STATEMENT STILL STANDS!

***************************************************

Ms. Miller: You’re charged with...breaking into a pet store?

Jeanette: I thought the animals might be lonely :(.

**************************************************

Theodore: Oh, fiddlesticks! That really ruffles my feathers!

Alvin: Please, just say fuck.

*************************************************

Murderer: Any last words?

Brittany: Do you think I'm cute? Be honest.

***************************************************

Eleanor: I'm sorry. Please talk to me.

Theodore:

Eleanor: Hello? World's most amazing person?? Sweet pea? Precious cinnamon roll that's too good for this world, too pure?

Theodore: 'Sorry' doesn't bring back my fucking M&Ms :(.

***************************************************

Brittany: *points at Simon* A human turtleneck, *points at Alvin* a narcissistic monster, *points at Theodore* and literally the dumbest person I’ve ever met.

Theodore: And who am I? Describe me now!

*************************************************

And because I love this one-

Everyone is standing around the broken coffee maker*

Alvin: So. Who broke it? I'm not mad, I just wanna know.

Everyone:

Jeanette: ...I did. I broke it.

Alvin: No. No you didn't. Theodore?

Theodore: Don't look at me. Look at Simon.

Simon: What?! I didn't break it.

Theodore: Huh, that's weird. How'd you even know it was broken?

Simon: Because it's sitting right in front of us and it's broken.

Theodore: Suspicious.

Simon: No, it's not!

Eleanor: If it matters, probably not, but Brittany was the last one to use it.

Brittany: Liar! I don't even drink that crap!

Eleanor: Oh really? Then what were you doing by the coffee cart earlier?

Brittany: I use the wooden stirrers to push back my cuticles. Everyone knows that, Eleanor!

Jeanette: Okay let's not fight. I broke it. Let me pay for it, Alvin.

Alvin: No! Who broke it!?

Everyone:

Eleanor: Alvin... Theodore's been awfully quiet.

Theodore: rEALLY?!

*Everyone starts arguing*

Alvin, being interviewed: I broke it. I burned my hand so I punched it.

Alvin: I predict 10 minutes from now they'll be at each other's throats with warpaint on their faces and a pig head on a stick.

Alvin:

Alvin: Good. It was getting a little chummy around here.

#aatc #aatc incorrect quotes #alvin and the chipmunks #Alvin Seville #simon seville #theodore seville #brittany miller #Jeanette Miller #Eleanor Miller #beatrice miller #ms. miller #okay this is one of my favorutes #I love ittttt

[vixtionary]

How much do you think Swain knows about Ur-Demons like Fiddlesticks and Ashlesh?))

// yoo thanks for the ask!!

I am mostly basing this on the demonic compedium Riot has released being scripted in Noxian and found in Fae'Lor, to say that Swain probably is aware of the Ten Kings existing, albeit not privy to their individual power/name or sigil.

The demon Raum is a demon of secrets, which it relays to Swain in exchange for 'fodder' ( souls lost in battle? Bastion secrets being that Prime is so full of intrigue and mysteries? ) and the General's own soul, of course. I would assume that, if Raum has informed Swain of things such as voildings crawling on Runetera, it must have also gifted him the knowledge of what demons truly are and what kinds of them exist. In canon, Riot has mentioned that Swain is among the characters with the most knowledge of their world, perhaps only second to Aurelion.

Now, as for my personal headcanon on the matter, I write Swain as a man who has had a fascination for the demonic engraved into him since childhood. His family was part of the Rose, tasked with the search for a 'mysterious power' that dwelled in the Bastion's walls ( perhaps drawn to it by Morde's well of souls? Or the amount of secrets and intrigue LeBlanc's doings had spawned? ) Therefore Jericho, even as a child had close contact with the concept of demons and was kept up to date with Noxian research on the matter. In a way, him discovering and making a pact with Raum later in life was almost destined to happen. It makes sense to me, for my interpretation of the character at least, that he would be enamored by the subject to the point of conducting extensive research both before and after acquiring Raum.

I do not believe he is aware of specific sigils & spells to summon them yet, or he would have already tried. But he probably knows their names, because Raum ought to know them just as Fiddlesticks does for every demon it encounters. Possibly, he could know what emotion they each depend/feast on. He has definitely heard all stories and rumors of demon sightings and keeps tabs on Fiddlesticks' course across Demacia as well as Nilah, being that she's currently the vessel for Ashlesh.

#I say it's Noxian writing both because I've read it somewhere (maybe lore server??) #can't remember the source tho :/ #and also bc it's similar to the writing on Rell's banner #anyway sorry for rambling!! thank you for the ask uwu #;headcanons #;answered

[voicefromthecorner]

Alright Rindo, we’re just diving into this so you’d better have a good plan. Right? You have some idea of how to convince a man who wants to kill you all that you all need to be on the same side, right? You’re not just gonna tell him to not do it and hope for the best. Right?

Rindo. My greatest guy. My finest friend. My bestest bro. My protagonist-est pal.

What in the ever-loving flaming fiddlesticks was that!?

Imagine being Shiba. You’re standing dramatically in the middle of the Scramble Crossing like the drama queen that you are, waiting for the ultimate showdown that you’ve been hyping up for all week. As far as you know, you’re the top dog AND cat around here: nobody ever undermines you, nobody is using you and there’s definitely nobody more powerful than you, not even this plucky band of teenagers who have been proving themselves to be pretty strong and have both two ex-Reapers and a living legend in their ranks (but between you and yourself, you think he’s pretty overrated). Nonetheless, while you’re hoping for a challenge, you’re confident that this epic little showdown is in the bag and once it is, job done. This is all there is and while it’s an odd form of Saturday evening entertainment, you’ve been looking forward to it since you first came to this soon-to-be-a-sandlot city three years ago. It’s the big day. Your big day!

And then the young leader of the group, one of, if not the youngest of them all, cuts you off mid-monologue (that you’d been rehearsing all day!) and says “Hey, we kinda need you to call this whole thing off. We already beat you and it turns out we have better things to do.”

Frankly, I’m impressed Shiba actually bothered to hear Rindo out. I half expected him to just spontaneously combust (which would have been very on-brand for him) the moment he was told to “stop the game”. Gives me hope that he’s not totally beyond reason. Still, he’s practically an award-winning narcissist so while I admire Rindo’s gumption, I think our boy needs an advisor. For all his team-therapist strengths, he’s definitely no strategist.

I like that the moment where Rindo clearly completely lost Shiba was when he said they’d won. The guy just straight up clocked out right there and then.

#neo the world ends with you #neo twewy #twewy #playthrough #liveblog #gamefromthecorner #shiba miyakaze #neo reapers #rindo kanade #neo twewy week 3 #neo twewy spoilers #neo final day

[shannyh25]

“No, I can’t say I’m sorry,” said Marilla, who sometimes wondered how she could have lived before Anne came to Green Gables, “no, not exactly sorry. If you’ve finished your lessons, Anne, I want you to run over and ask Mrs. Barry if she’ll lend me Diana’s apron pattern.”

“Oh—it’s—it’s too dark,��� cried Anne.

“Too dark? Why, it’s only twilight. And goodness knows you’ve gone over often enough after dark.”

“I’ll go over early in the morning,” said Anne eagerly. “I’ll get up at sunrise and go over, Marilla.”

“What has got into your head now, Anne Shirley? I want that pattern to cut out your new apron this evening. Go at once and be smart too.”

“I’ll have to go around by the road, then,” said Anne, taking up her hat reluctantly.

“Go by the road and waste half an hour! I’d like to catch you!”

“I can’t go through the Haunted Wood, Marilla,” cried Anne desperately.

Marilla stared.

“The Haunted Wood! Are you crazy? What under the canopy is the Haunted Wood?”

“The spruce wood over the brook,” said Anne in a whisper.

“Fiddlesticks! There is no such thing as a haunted wood anywhere. Who has been telling you such stuff?”

“Nobody,” confessed Anne. “Diana and I just imagined the wood washaunted. All the places around here are so—so—COMMONPLACE. We just gotthis up for our own amusement. We began it in April. A haunted wood isso very romantic, Marilla. We chose the spruce grove because it’s sogloomy. Oh, we have imagined the most harrowing things. There’s a whitelady walks along the brook just about this time of the night and wringsher hands and utters wailing cries. She appears when there is to be adeath in the family. And the ghost of a little murdered child haunts thecorner up by Idlewild; it creeps up behind you and lays its cold fingerson your hand—so. Oh, Marilla, it gives me a shudder to think of it. Andthere’s a headless man stalks up and down the path and skeletons glowerat you between the boughs. Oh, Marilla, I wouldn’t go through theHaunted Wood after dark now for anything. I’d be sure that white thingswould reach out from behind the trees and grab me.” listened in dumb amazement. “Anne Shirley, do you mean to tell me youbelieve all that wicked nonsense of your own imagination?” “Not believe EXACTLY,” faltered Anne. “At least, I don’t believe it in daylight. But after dark, Marilla, it’s different. That is when ghosts walk.”

“Did ever anyone hear the like!” ejaculated Marilla, who hadlistened in dumb amazement. “Anne Shirley, do you mean to tellme you believe all that wicked nonsense of your own imagination?”

“Not believe EXACTLY,” faltered Anne. “At least, I don’tbelieve it in daylight. But after dark, Marilla, it’sdifferent. That is when ghosts walk.”

“There are no such things as ghosts, Anne.”

“Oh, but there are, Marilla,” cried Anne eagerly. “I know people who have seen them. And they are respectable people. Charlie Sloane says that his grandmother saw his grandfather driving home the cows one night after he’d been buried for a year. You know Charlie Sloane’s grandmother wouldn’t tell a story for anything. She’s a very religious woman. And Mrs. Thomas’s father was pursued home one night by a lamb of fire with its head cut off hanging by a strip of skin. He said he knew it was the spirit of his brother and that it was a warning he would die within nine days. He didn’t, but he died two years after, so you see it was really true. And Ruby Gillis says—”

“Anne Shirley,” interrupted Marilla firmly, “I never want to hear you talking in this fashion again. I’ve had my doubts about that imagination of yours right along, and if this is going to be the outcome of it, I won’t countenance any such doings. You’ll go right over to Barry’s, and you’ll go through that spruce grove, just for a lesson and a warning to you. And never let me hear a word out of your head about haunted woods again.”

Anne might plead and cry as she liked—and did, for her terror was very real. Her imagination had run away with her and she held the spruce grove in mortal dread after nightfall. But Marilla was inexorable. She marched the shrinking ghost-seer down to the spring and ordered her to proceed straightaway over the bridge and into the dusky retreats of wailing ladies and headless specters beyond.

“Oh, Marilla, how can you be so cruel?” sobbed Anne. “What would you feel like if a white thing did snatch me up and carry me off?”

“I’ll risk it,” said Marilla unfeelingly. “You know I always mean what I say. I’ll cure you of imagining ghosts into places. March, now.”

Anne marched. That is, she stumbled over the bridge and went shuddering up the horrible dim path beyond. Anne never forgot that walk. Bitterly did she repent the license she had given to her imagination. The goblins of her fancy lurked in every shadow about her, reaching out their cold, fleshless hands to grasp the terrified small girl who had called them into being. A white strip of birch bark blowing up from the hollow over the brown floor of the grove made her heart stand still. The long-drawn wail of two old boughs rubbing against each other brought out the perspiration in beads on her forehead. The swoop of bats in the darkness over her was as the wings of unearthly creatures. When she reached Mr. William Bell’s field she fled across it as if pursued by an army of white things, and arrived at the Barry kitchen door so out of breath that she could hardly gasp out her request for the apron pattern. Diana was away so that she had no excuse to linger. The dreadful return journey had to be faced. Anne went back over it with shut eyes, preferring to take the risk of dashing her brains out among the boughs to that of seeing a white thing. When she finally stumbled over the log bridge she drew one long shivering breath of relief.

“Well, so nothing caught you?” said Marilla unsympathetically.

“Oh, Mar—Marilla,” chattered Anne, “I’ll b-b-be contt-tented with c-c-commonplace places after this.” Lucy Maud Montgomery quotes- Anne Of Green Gables.

Follow me for more inspiration! 💜💜

#anne of green gables #anne shirley cuthbert #marilla cuthbert #follow for updates #follow for follow #lucy maud montgomery

[wolfhowler4000]

Karnk: looks lik we can´t mainsplain, manipulate, malewife our way out of this one… Anubis: MANSLAUGHTER IT IS THEN! Thoth: Meh, I´ll keep mainsplaining this guy. Sekhmet: Wait! Who is a malewife?? Hathanor [sweating nerviossly]:

Anubis: I printed up a bunch of fake safety inspection certificates. Go slap one on anything that looks like a lawsuit. Nakt: Anubis, is that legal? Anubis: When the cops aren’t around, anything’s legal!

Hathanor: Hey Sekhmet, I’ve got an idea for how to solve this. Sekhmet, pulling out a shotgun: Yeah? Hathanor: Wh- No! That’s not the idea, Sekhmet!

Karnk: If you spell skeletons backwards, it still spells skeletons. Thoth, deadpan: Wow, I can't wait for Halloween to see some snoteleks.

Thoth: Oh, fiddlesticks. Anubis: Look, I understand this is a tense situation, but let's watch the fucking language.

Sekhmet, confused and exasperated: Thoth, how do you plan on telling a bear to go vegan? Thoth: Politely

Anubis: I haven't slept in seventy-three hours. Exaton: Eighty. Democratically elected leader of insomnia. Thoth: Bitch, it's been ninety for me. I'm going for an even one hundred. Sekhmet: You guys are fucking terrifying.

Nakt: You know what I learned from my friendship with Thoth? Sobeck: There’s no such thing as too mean? Sekhmet: Never let your friends know for sure if you like them? Exaton: Always hold a grudge?

Sobeck: I will find us a covered wagon and horses. Sobeck: If you two can manage to not kill each other while I'm gone. Anubis: Oh, please. We're not children. Sobeck leaves Anubis, casually: …Eat shit and die. Thoth, also casually: Yes, fuck you.

Sekhmet: My pharao, what do you value about Hathanor? Exaton: They’re thoughtful. They pick flowers and bring them to me. Often they’re ones I’ve just planted, but… Hathanor: That’s how I know they’re fresh!

Sobeck: You know you can die from that, right? Sekhmet: smoking a cigarette That’s the point. Exaton: drinking alcohol We’re trying to speed this up. Karnk: Eating raw cookie dough and nodding

Sekhmet: I left instructions for everyone while I'm gone. Nakt: Mine just says "Nakt no." Sekhmet: I want you to apply it to every possible situation

---

Must give the villains some love too!!

Lol man why are the villans always a disaster

.

[geminiiviolets]

Incorrect cult quotes part 2! featuring fox (@headscrollkeeper / @foxycrossingg ), thea (@faeriegutz ), sage (@thesapphicspacegirl ), rose (@rose-loves / @impulse-cake ), cleo (@cleos-writing /@impulse-cake ), and indigo (@lirazmorelikelickdeeznu / yours truly)

Fox: So you're looking for information on this thing, huh? Well, I feel like it must be from far away. 

Sage: What makes you say that? 

Fox: If it's something even I don't know about, then I'm sure nobody else must have a clue. So it's gotta be from some faraway place. Impeccable reasoning, isn't it? 

Sage: Fox... You don't have a clue about this thing, do you? 

Fox: *screams in anger*

————

Fox: You're alive. 

Indigo: There's no need to sound so disappointed.

————

Rose: We can bake these cookies at 400 degrees for 10 minutes or 4,000 degrees for 1 minute. 

Fox: No, that's not how you make cookies. 

Indigo: FLOOR IT!! 

Rose: How about 4,000,000 degrees for 1 second?!? 

Fox: yOU'RE GONNA BURN THE HOUSE DOWN- 

Rose: I'M GONNA HARNESS THE POWER OF THE FUCKING SUN TO MAKE COOKIES! 

Indigo: DO IT! 

Fox: NO-

————

Rose: Oh, fiddlesticks. 

Fox: Look, I understand this is a tense situation, but let's watch the fucking language.

————

Rose: We’ve been conducting an ongoing study to see what Indigo will and will not eat. 

Sage: Grass? Yes.

Rose: Moss? Yes!! 

Sage: Leaves? Yep.

Rose: Shoelaces? Strange but true! 

Sage: Worms? Sometimes.

Rose: Rocks? Usually nah. 

Sage: Twigs? Usually.

Rose: Fox's cooking? Inconclusive! 

Thea: How did you… test this? 

Rose: You just hand them stuff and say ‘eat this’ and if they eat it, they eat it. 

Thea: ... I don’t know how to feel about this. 

Fox: IS THAT WHERE ALL MY SPARE SHOELACES WENT?

————

Fox: Indigo and I were crossing the street, and this man drove by and honked at us. 

Sage: What did you do? 

Fox: They chased him to the next red light, and reached into his window, and- 

Indigo: *walking in* Who wants a steering wheel?

————

Thea: *visiting the squad* Hello, I just came to- 

Thea: *sees Fox shoving Indigo into the washing machine while Rose records and Cleo watches* 

Thea: *retreating* Something suddenly came up.

————

Indigo: How stupid do you think I am?! 

Fox: You really want an honest answer to that?

————

Cleo: I hate taking off my glasses, because without them, my vision goes from Full HD all the way down to buffering at 240p and I just can't handle that.

————

Fox at Indigo, tired of their bullshit: New challenge! Don't say stupid shit for 24 hours!

————

Cleo: The odds of this happening by coincidence are vanishingly small. 

Thea: I would say infinitesimally. 

Indigo: And I'd say teenily-weenily. We all know words.

————

Thea: The best part of an oreo is the cookie part, not the frosting. Deal with it. 

Cleo: Darkness without light is an abyss. Light without darkness is blinding. You cannot have a coin with one side. 

Rose: YO SOCRATES! IT'S A FUCKING COOKIE!

————

Indigo: Yum, thanks! 

Kidnapper: *puts more tape over their mouth* I said stop eating it.

#the order of obscura #incorrect quotes #the cult #Headcanons

[bopinion]

2022 / 20

Aperçu of the Week:

"In every man there is something of a murdered Mozart."

(Antoine de Saint-Exupery - I have no idea what he was trying to say with that, either)

Bad News of the Week:

The largest minority in the world is actually the majority: women. Actually, it's unbelievable that I was already born when married women in Germany could neither open a bank account nor terminate an employment contract without the consent of their husband. Because for me it has actually always felt like equal rights. And yet, for example, there are still salary gender gaps in virtually all "developed societies." And the current US Republican campaign against abortion rights is nothing but misogynistic either. But that's nothing compared to the rest of the world.

In China, people still celebrate only when the child becomes a boy. In India, infanticide still occurs simply because it is a girl. And with rapes and murders the society hardly concerns itself. And this is often the case in the animal kingdom: in birds, the males celebrate the most beautiful courtship dances and the females hatch the eggs. And with lions, the male becomes king while the female does the work, vulgo goes hunting. What the fuck!?!

Speaking of "What the fuck!?!": the Taliban. I remember it clearly, how after they took power in Afghanistan, they announced they would support a more open society. Women's rights would be recognized. It would not be like it used to be. And? Fiddlesticks. First, women lost their jobs in public administration. Then their freedom of movement was restricted. Then they lost their access to education. And now it's back, the symbol par excellence of the social oppression of women: the burqa. Women are now only allowed to go out in public with the full veil. The official reason given by the "Ministry for the Promotion of Virtue and the Prevention of Vice" (no joke!): if anything were to be seen of them, it would "only provoke men unnecessarily". And besides, their place is at home anyway. With the kitchen and the children.

Where does that come from? I've never understood it. Every man on the planet - and virtually every animal except seahorses - was carried by a woman. It is the mother who gives us life, takes care of us, raises us. She is the primary fixed person in our earliest memories. And yet, to many boys who have grown up, it seems perfectly normal to later patronize this wonderful person. And all of their peers. To then marry one of them to give him boys. Pfff...

I am the father of a daughter. Who sometimes gets on my nerves terribly and causes many sleepless nights, who has and makes mistakes, doesn't get everything together or in order, is at least as much of a smartass and a pain in the ass as I am, sometimes misses the mark and still has a lot to learn - and above all is just perfect. Should anyone ever dare to treat her disparagingly merely because of her gender, I will come down on him (yes, because it will be a man!) like the wrath of God. Because she doesn't deserve that any more than any other woman. Not with me. And this is how all of us men should think.

Good News of the Week:

Initial energy policy measures to counter dependence on Russia seemed less than forward-looking, see the begging trips to the Arab world and the creation of LNG ("liquid natural gas") terminals in German ports. But now Putin's war may actually prove to be a catalyst for renewable energy sources. As a wake-up call to finally counteract the climate crisis with appropriate vigor and speed. Fossil fuels are a dead end - it's as simple as that.

On a small scale, the Bavarian state government laid out its plans in this regard at the end of the week: a doubling of renewable energy by 2030 - a plan that is revolutionary by local standards, as it envisages 800 new wind turbines in addition to more hydroelectric and solar energy. Which are anything but popular here: people like to talk about the "asparagus shock", which objectively detracts from the objectively beautiful landscape. But you can't make an omelet without breaking eggs.

On a much larger scale, things are also moving forward on the European stage. For one thing, Denmark, the Netherlands, Belgium and Germany have joined forces to build a massive wind farm in the North Sea. For another, European Union Commission President Ursula von der Leyen has announced a new 300 billion euro package to act as a turbo for the 2019 Green Deal. This is because the targets already set will be increased once again: the EU energy savings target for 2030 will be raised from the previous nine percent to 13. And by that time, 45 percent of energy is to be generated from renewable sources, rather than the current 40. With the pleasant side effect of also achieving energy independence from Russia more quickly.

So the Russian war of aggression will fall on the country's feet in this respect as well: it will irrevocably lose the best customers for its most important export goods, fossil fuels. If China and India then resist the temptation to give preference to dirty energy at low prices over sustainable sources, all will be well. Only for the Russian people will it take its toll that the leaders in politics and business have criminally failed to develop a viable economic model for the future. I recommend taking a look at Norway, ready to learn.

Personal happy moment of the week:

Premiere: the first time I knew in advance what my happy moment of the week would be. Because for the first time since the beginning of the pandemic we went to a concert - almost a premiere. The concert had already been postponed twice. Yesterday was the day: Jamie Cullum in the Isarphilharmonie in Munich. An artist I have known and appreciated for ages, but had never seen live. Unlike my wife, who discovered him at the same time on the other side of the world and constantly raves to me about what an excellent performer he is on stage. And guess what? She was right!

So, here's what I haven't written in advance: Guess what? She was right! This guy is really synonymous with versatility: whether alone at the piano, in a classic three piece ensemble or with the whole band. Whether jazz classics, ballads or rocking party bangers. It didn't keep anyone in their seats for long. Speaking of seats, friends and we sat in a beer garden before the concert and in a bar afterwards. A typical Saturday night on the town. Back to normal life. Nice.

I couldn't care less...

...about the monkeypox infections now emerging in Europe, in view of which the WHO warns today that a strategy against it is "urgently needed". Two simple facts are included: those who received a smallpox vaccination as a child are also well protected against this variant. And who uses Corona protective measures, is just as well protected. So again for the record: Vaccination and mask are effective means against any infection.

As I write this...

...come the results of the election in Australia. And apparently the conservative (he is only liberal on record) head of government Scott Morrison was punished for understanding his job more as a lobbyist for fossil energy - Australia is the world leader in coal-fired power generation with more than 70 % and did not want to change this so far - than to set up his country in a future-proof and sustainable way. Now the social democrat Anthony Albanese will probably take over the office. And he had promised more environmental protection in the election campaign. Let's see.

Post Scriptum:

The war in Ukraine is anything but over. And yet its legal processing is already beginning. Last Wednesday, the first Russian soldier stood trial in Kiev, a 21-year-old young man who went to war to support his family financially. The charge is war crimes, he shot a 62-year-old civilian - who happened to be passing by on a bicycle and saw him stealing a car. And he admitted it, on the first day of trial. A life sentence for murder now awaits him. And another 11,000 (!) cases are already on file. It is to be hoped that this information will also make it to the front. And reminds the Russian soldiers, most of whom are, after all, just following orders: even in a war, there are rules.

#thoughts #aperçu #bad news #good news #news of the week #happy moments #politics #antoine de saint exupéry #mozart #women #misoginy #taliban #afghanistan #what the fuck #burka #russia #putin #ukraine #renewable power generation #energy #european commission #jamie cullum #live concert #monkeypox #australia #war crimes #murder trial #election results #sustainability #womens rights