#bin being everyone’s little brother >>>>

[ovcrzelos]

MOST POPULAR RELATIONSHIPS WITHIN #ZELOS.

juho and seongbin (father and son).

juho and seongbin originally had a VERY strained relationship. juho, being one of the oldest felt a sense of resentment and jealousy seeing how the staff would treat seongbin because he was younger and “more attractive”.

after juho found out exactly what was going on with seongbin, he got EXTREMELY protective over him. he rarely lets the boy out of his sight. in videos they’re always sitting beside each other and juho’s probably playing with bin’s hair or holding his hand. that’s his son.

seonghan, chase, and seongbin (maknaez in crime)

they were naturally very close because they were close in age, and were often grouped together during GODS and other promotions because of their dynamic. originally it was mostly the 97z, but eventually they started involving bin more.

they’re like dumb, dumber and dumbest. they’re always getting into trouble with each other, it almost always starts with chase, who ends up persuading han, and they just drag bin along with them because bin will listen to them.

saebom and sian (tom and jerry)

they love each other, they really do. but if you were a new fan, you’d probably have no idea. they’re constantly jokingly making fun of each other. sian’s wearing something ugly? saebom’s gonna be the first one to let him know, to be playful but also because he cares.

they are the old married couple of ZELOS. they make fun of each other but they are really close, always side by side. even saebom’s own girlfriend felt threatened from how close the boys are.

jaemin and saebom (parents of ZELOS)

despite neither members being the leader, they’re both basically the protectors and parents of ZELOS. perhaps it is because they were in the industry/trained so long, but they have a lot more common sense in terms of the industry stuff. ngl, sian probably would’ve gotten himself lost on so many occasions if they weren’t watching him.

while juho does the main leader stuff, they’re the ones who take care of things like cooking, and the members when sick or injured.

[thetimelordbatgirl]

Ngl youtube videos suddenly got me slowly turning into a Justin Russo hater.

[strvberrydoll]

Rosemary

Summary: Arthur is smacked right in the face with the consequences of his actions as the fate of your relationship is hanging by a thin thread. part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

AO3 link (a better rewritten version of this fic on ao3)

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x f!reader

Content: suggestive, angst, hurt/no comfort (for now) probs grammar errors :/

wc: little under 3k

A/n: before any of you come after me, blame the angst on the bad weather not on me !! (plus we both know you love it <3) anyways reader absolutely eats arthur alive in this chapter so grab your popcorns and tissues !! Next chapter is gonna be the last so it’s gonna take a bit of time to write sorry :(( as always let me know if you like this chapter thank you all for the amazing support you’ve showed for Rosemary <33 gif from pinterest.

The sight of Clemens Point camp emerging from the thick woods surrounding its path, felt strangely like the sight of heaven to Arthur, his muscles aching and screaming at him from the tiring day. Between his visit to Rhodes with Mary and all the manual work Uncle put him under in the morning, the only things he longed for were the softness of his bed and you engulfing him in one of your warm embrace. 

Spending three hours chopping wood and gathering whatever material Uncle needed for his mysterious project that supposedly ‘would help a great deal everyone in camp’, proved to be a tiring job even for the camp’s main enforcer, his strength dulled by the biting cold of October and the constant ache of his heart. Each swing of the axe in the air helped Arthur think, his mind consumed by you, trying to figure out what the hell happened for you to act so cold and distant towards him. The image of his darling’s sweet face contorted in an expression of hurt and disappointment at the sole sight of him from this morning hunting his mind, making each swing harsher than the other. 

When Uncle decided to call it a day, Arthur internally thanked the maker above as he felt his patience wearing thin every time he called Uncle out for not lifting a finger to help him while the older man comfortably sat under the shade of one of the tall trees near the outskirts of camp complaining about his ‘lumbago’. His relief, though, was short lived as the memory of Mary’s letter flashed in his mind.

Mary had been writing to him almost every two weeks, since her late husband died she had been writing to Arthur asking for help, him being the only male left she knew, after her abusive father went mad, gambling all their possessions away and his brother ran off. 

The first letter he received a few months prior left him with a bitter taste in his mouth. He was tempted to just throw it in the bin and forget about it. After years of nothing she found the guts to write to him again, asking to save her little brother from a strange cult that apparently worshiped turtles, as Arthur understood. That first letter woke inside him an anger he thought died down. He needed to confront her. So a few days after receiving the first letter, Arthur rode to Valentine, his mind fixed on refusing to help her, yet after hearing her story out he didn’t find it in him to tell her no.

It’ll be just a one time thing, after this he’ll never see her again. He reassured himself. 

But then another letter came and then another, and he felt like a fool for helping her every time. Worse yet, he felt like an absolute bastard lying to you each time he went to help Mary out, always finding an excuse as to why he was out late. His conscience shouting at him to tell you the truth each time he looked into your hypnotizing eyes as you both layed naked in the comfort of your tent, but how could he explain it all to you ?

Mary, on the other hand, knew about you, having heard of you once from Arthur when you first joined the gang, but now she knew about your relationship with him. He told her from their first encounter, quick to not let her think he had any other intentions.

He’d help, sure, but only for old time’s sake.

Although Arthur sensed she wasn’t particularly excited about his newfound love, she respected your relationship, often asking him for updates and lending him some advice. It felt strange talking about you to his ex fiancè but she’d ask and he’d talk, never shying away from an opportunity to talk about his darling girl. 

Finally free of Uncle’s relentless job, he jumped on his horse, riding into town to meet with Mary. 

The town of Rhodes was particularly busy when Arthur arrived, the usually calm town buzzing with life and chatter. Men and women dressed in all kinds of fancy dresses and tall hats adorned with feathers and ribbons, strolled around town. From what Arthur heard from a couple near the saloon, a famous singer from Saint Denis was doing a show in town.

Suddenly conscious about his rugged and worn out attire he quickly made his way toward the general store, where Mary told him to meet her. Something about buying some plumbing tools, she said. Their evening went smoothly, they chatted away as Arthur helped with her shopping advising her which tools to buy and which ones to avoid. As the moon came high in the sky he escorted her to her accommodation before finally riding back to camp.

––––– ✧ ✦ ✧ –––––

“Who goes there!” the shout of Bill’s voice followed by the cock of his shotgun thundering in the night from his usual lookout position.

“It’s Arthur, you moron.” 

As the faint chattering of camp filled Arthur’s ears, images of you began to cloud his mind. He needed to find out what was bothering you. He needed to make it right by you, whatever it’ll cost. He hitched his horse, patting his mane a few times whispering sweet praises that made the horse sway its tail before walking towards your shared tent. 

The camp was almost empty, being close to midnight the only people up were Javier who sat near the campfire, tuning the guitar in his lap as Reverend Swanson chatted animatedly about his past life experiences with a tired Mister Pearson who looked worse than one of his stews, and then there was Abigail who was chatting with you at the entrance of your shared tent. The both of you dressed in your best dresses, the sight of your body wrapped in the soft cotton and laces of your dress making Arthur’s heart race.

You were one of God’s angels, his sweetest and most beautiful creation, he was sure of it.

As you noticed his presence coming towards you, you hurriedly whispered something to Abigail, making the brunette widen her eyes, before entering your tent, leaving Abigail outside, her eyes finding Arthur’s as he came to an alt before the opening of your shared tent, her expression resembling the ones she had after a fight with John. Anger and care blended together.

After casting a quick confused glance at Abigail, Arthur ducked through the entrance, his broad stature making his action look quite awkward. Letting his eyes adjust to the dim light that shone from the oil lamp on the bedside table, he cautiously sat down his hat, his expression a mix of confusion and wariness as his eyes found your figure, sitting at the edge of your small cot. The skirt of your dress puffy around you making you look like a doll, your head bowed making it impossible to him to read your face and shoulders stiff, toying with something in your hands. You looked up at him, red eyes filled to the brim with tears that threatened to spill once again. Something in the pit of his stomach told him this was going to be a long night. 

"Darlin’," Arthur began, his voice soft as if not to scare a small deer away. 

“Don’t you ‘darling’ me,” you slurred a little. He could smell the faint scent of whiskey on your breath, a sign you’d been hanging out with your girl friends.

“Where were you tonight Arthur ?”

He felt his throat tighten at your question. “I jus’ came back from a job,” he unsteadily replied.

"Right, back from your ‘job’ mhh?" you echoed, your voice tight trying with all your might to keep yourself together. You stood up your wobbly legs almost letting you fall, stepping forward, holding out one of the letters as if it were a weapon. "Or back from meeting her?".

Arthur’s brow furrowed in confusion, and then realization dawned. His stomach dropped as he recognized what you were holding, the sight of you holding one of Mary’s letters felt like a punch to his face. 

"Darlin’, it ain’t what you think," he started, his voice filled with urgency.

"Then, please, tell me what the hell it is!" you raised your voice, making it crack under all the weight of your emotions. You didn’t care if you were yelling, if you were to wake everyone in camp. You were tired of all the bullshit.

"I found them, Arthur. A whole fucking drawer full of letters from Mary. I might not be the brightest at reading, but I know her damned name when I see it.” despite all your best efforts to remain strong your eyes betrayed you as fresh warm tears run down the path that your previous ones left.

Arthur moved closer trying to take one of your hands in his, you took a step back, shaking your head. "Don't," you whispered, voice breaking.

“I went to Rhodes today with the girls, ya’know to clear my mind a bit from all your bullshit, and guess who I found having the time of their lives together ? Laughing and what not.”

He paused, his hand hovering in the air between the both of you. He wanted to reach out, to hold you, to dry your tears and comfort you, to explain, but he knew you needed to hear the truth first. "Please darlin’, you’ve got to believe me. Mary’s just, she's just- I’m just helpin’ her out. Her husband died, and she’s got no one else,"

You let out a harsh, humorless laugh at his poor explanation. Did he really take you for this big of a fool ? Was this really what he thought of you ? Tears poured down even more from your eyes at the realization. "And you, what? You swoop in to save her like some kind of hero? What are you mh, tell me Arthur, are you her bitch ready to bark if she told you to ?”

The venom spilling from your words hit Arthur hard, making him physically flinch as your words hit him right into his face. His heart shattering at your sight, you were physically and mentally distraught. All because he didn’t have the courage to tell you everything from the start.

“You’re still in love with her, aren’t you? Gosh, all this time, Arthur, all this damn time I’ve just been, what? A distraction? Something to pass the time until you could get her back? Poor silly me, thinking I mattered something to you !" Now you definitely woke someone up, your throat burned as you shouted your whole heart out at Arthur, you felt disgusted, dirty even. The alcohol you previously drowned your sorrows into making you nauseous.

You were ready to give your heart to Arthur, you gave him everything. If he asked you the moon you’d give it to him.

And here you were, the biggest fool in the West, thinking you could have a space in Arthur’s heart.

"What, no!" Arthur’s shout was raw, it definitely hurt his throat, you never heard him shout this way, you never heard him shout at you at all. His voice filled with a mix of frustration and fear. He took another step toward you, stretching his hands out in search of your trembling ones, but you stumbled back, almost tripping over the edge of the cot.

"Darlin’, you’ve got to believe me, I'm beggin’ ya” 

“You’ve been lying to me for weeks, Arthur. For weeks you’ve been kissing me, lying in bed with me, you’ve been telling me that you love me while lying to me, for god’s sake ! How am I supposed to believe anything you say now?"

"Because I’m tellin’ you the truth!" Arthur pleaded, his voice thick, cracking with emotion. He could sense your heart getting further and further away from his. He wanted nothing more than to take your pain away seeing the way your shoulders shook with the force of your sobs. He wanted to reach out, to pull you into one of his bear hugs you always loved and make you believe him, but the distance between the both of you felt like a chasm too wide to cross anymore. The only bridge between you deteriorating before his very own eyes.

"Sweetheart, I love you. I always loved you, you’re the only one I care about."

But you shook your head, circling away from him before hitting the cold canvas of the tent wall.

"Don’t," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of your sobs. "Don’t say that. You don’t get to say that after everything you’ve done to me… after all these lies."

"Darlin’, please…" Arthur broke down, his voice saturated with panic as he saw you back towards the exit of your tent, his eyes desperate as he looked at you. "I never meant to hurt you. I thought I was doing the right thing, keeping this from you. I thought- I thought I could handle it on my own, that it would be over before you ever had to know. But I see now I see how big of a moron I was, how fucking wrong I was."

You looked at him, your face twisted in pain, your heart painfully torn between the love you still felt for him and the harsh betrayal you couldn’t shake away. "I can’t do this, Arthur," you meekly said, your voice trembling. "I can’t…I can’t be with someone who doesn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth. Who lies straight to my face as if nothing."

Arthur’s heart shattered at your words. He couldn’t believe this was happening, not again. He was not losing the love of his life again. But unfortunately he could see the resolve slowly hardening in your eyes, the way you were getting yourself ready to walk away. Every cell of his body was screaming at him to find a way to keep you.  "Don’t leave me, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "Please, don’t do this. I’ll do anything… I’ll tell you everything, from now on. I’ll never see Mary again, just don’t go. Don’t leave me alone." he finished his sentence, his tone slowly going down to a mere whisper. His eyes filling with tears.

But you were already pulling away, turning your back on him as you moved toward the tent flap. Slightly hesitating with your hand on the thick canvas, your body trembling with the force of the decision you were about to make. If you did this there was no turning back. But this wasn’t your fault.

"I need to think," you said emotionless, your voice hollow as your sobs died down, leaving you with a hole in your heart, "I need…I need some time for myself."

"No, please don’t…" Arthur’s voice was choked with tears he wouldn’t let fall from his eyes. But it was too late.

You slipped out of the tent into the cold harsh night, leaving Arthur motionless at the center of the cold emptiness of your shared tent, feeling the walls closing in around him. The crushing realization that he might have just lost the one person who truly meant everything to him came down on him at once making his head spin.

Alone in the darkness, Arthur finally let the tears fall, each one a silent plea for a second chance he wasn’t sure he deserved.

––––– ✧ ✦ ✧ –––––

You needed to get away from him, to get away from everything right now. You felt that if you were just a second more inside that tent you’d take him into your arms, begging him to never let you go. But you couldn’t.

He lied to you, you didn’t care about Mary, about his secret rendezvous with her. He lied to you. That’s all you could think of.

Realizing that Arthur could easily follow you in camp you decided to completely get out of camp. You needed space, from him, from everyone. You just wanted to be alone.

Venturing into the woods at night wasn’t the smartest choice you’ve made per se, but a small ounce of alcohol was running through your veins still and you decided to blame it for your poor choice.

The moonlight shone brightly, illuminating faintly your surroundings, the harsh chill of the midnight weather biting your exposed hands as you once again forgot your gloves.

You swallowed down the lump in your throat as more tears threatened to spill from your tired eyes, you were near the clearing you and Arthur found out a few weeks ago, in need of some privacy when your mouths were chasing each other and his hands, warm and calloused, explored your exposed back, your touches burning with raw desire.

The memory of that night burned in your heart when suddenly you heard a twig snap. You turned towards the direction of the sound fear taking over you, shaking every cell in your body. You were physically and emotionally drained, you didn't have a gun with you, not even a knife. The only thing left to do was pray it was just a fox wandering around.

And then you felt it, a sharp burning pain in the back of your head, kicking the air out of your lungs.

The last thing you saw was the forest floor.

Before darkness took over you.

[johnwickb1tsch]

Everyone is sending GIF requests, so, here is mine. Hint: Jealous John? (Though I doubt this man can ever be jealous but...whatever comes to your genius brain)

Thanks!

@sweetwolfcupcake SWEEETS!!!!! I loved this prompt SO MUCH!!! You're such a genius. *kisses your head* I hope you like this! 💗💗💗

Bodyguard!John Wick x Shy!Curvy!Fem!Student!Reader

⚠warnings: threat of noncon (not John), mention of parental death

For the record, you didn’t mean to fall in love with John Wick. But he was nothing like the other goons your father had tasked with guarding you before.  Wick was tall, and handsome, and had the soulful eyes of a poet. You know he’s dangerous; he can kill a man 30 ways with a pencil (the men of your father’s Bratva will not shut up about it) but he seems so…gentle. And the thing that really proved your undoing?

That good looking bastard was bookish, and it did something inconceivable to your lit major brain. Ever your dark shadow, you spent countless late nights in the library together, and so many Saturday afternoons browsing the used bookshops, combing for treasures. He would rescue the books that looked better fit for the waste bin, taking them to repair. Maybe he was there to protect you, for your father had many unsavory enemies, but it was easy to forget when John discussed with you the finer points of the Bloomsbury Set or the themes of Anna Karenina.  

Maybe your father assigned John to you because he was one of the few gangsters around in his brigata one could trust to guard a relatively innocent young lady–that didn’t mean John was safe from you. You just couldn’t help yourself; you’d like to plead insanity, your honor, the night you finally broke and tried to kiss him, while he was helping you with your homework for Russian Lit 301. 

How stupid you felt, how utterly pathetic, when he’d very kindly dislodged you from his so soft mouth, looking at you with pity in his sad dark eyes. “You know…we can’t do this,” he told you.

Mortified, you’d fled to your room and cried, knowing you are the most ridiculous human being on the face of the earth.

What were you thinking?

You are nothing like the tall, ethereal creatures that populate the clubs where Wick frequents with your father. You are shy, and curvy, and frankly…a nerd. An old soul, your father would say fondly, but you know he is just being kind.

You’re not sure how you got it into your head, that you were going to make Wick sorry. You’ve never been one for going out, but you decide to give it a whirl, wanting to be anyone but yourself. You decide to go to the Red Circle, to hang out with the other Bratva brats who care way more about clubbing and clothes and who’s fucking who, than classes at NYU. 

At first you really hate it–but after a few shots of vodka, it’s not so bad. John has to hang back, keeping an eye on you but not interacting with your friends. He’s scary good at lurking in the shadows, but you know he’s keeping an eye on every move you make. Maybe that’s why you let Alexsei kiss you, the son of a semi-friendly loan shark who works in proximity with your father. You don’t really like him, if you’re being honest. But he’s not totally hideous–and he’s there–and John will have to watch it all. 

You and Alex start to have a thing. It’s no big deal. Something to do, on the summer break from your studies. You invite him over to watch a movie, knowing you’ll have the house to yourself. Your father is always at his office doing business, your idiotic brother is always out getting into trouble with his khuligan friends, and your mother…is dead, God rest her poor soul. 

You can tell Alex is a little drunk, when he shows up at your door. He’s very handsy, when you settle in on the couch to watch the latest mindless action flick, his pick. It’s ok, until he tries to unbutton your pants.

You have a secret. 

You’re 21, nearly graduated from university–and you’re still a virgin. 

This is not a thing you intend to give to Alexsei Plushenko. You don’t even really like the way he touches you.

“Stop, Alex.”

“Don’t be scared,” he tries to coax you. “This will be fun.”

“No,” you say. “Let’s just…”

He covers your mouth with his, shutting you up, his heavy body pinning you on the couch. “Don’t be such a stuck up bitch.” His groping fingers squeeze your breast clumsily, painfully, before fumbling with your jeans again. You try to push him off, but he’s heavy, and strong.

Suddenly, he is yanked from you like he weighs nothing at all. You hardly recognize what is happening at first, until you hear the sound of flesh striking flesh. John is on him, his iron fist meeting the younger man’s face. 

“John! Stop!” 

Wick looks up at you, meeting your eyes in a primal lock of stares–your heart drops and soars again, as you feel as though you’ve stumbled on a wolf over his kill, and the wildest thing?

You get the inkling that wolf is jealous. 

“Don’t hurt him anymore,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. A beating will make some complications for your father. A death? Could mean war.

Wick punches the handsy young man one more time, his eyes never leaving yours, before hauling Alex up by the collar and frog marching him out the front door, tossing him down the concrete steps of your home.

John finds you waiting for him in the marble foyer, his eyes wild, his knuckles torn. You don’t even know what to say. 

“What did you even see in him?” he finally demands, clearly annoyed.

“He wasn’t you,” you answer without thinking.

Wick steps up to you, toe to toe, so that you have to crane your neck to meet his eyes. His hair has broken free from its slicked back style, tendrils in his eyes.

He’s never looked more beautiful, your savage savior.

“You’re trying to get me killed.”

You shake your head, the very thought anathema to you. You are transfixed, unable to look away, unable to think. “You’re too precious to me,” you admit, and screw your eyes shut the moment you admit it, a spear of mortification piercing you from your heart to your stupid, aching, cunt.

“Milaya…” 

It’s the sweetest thing he’s ever said to you.

Your eyes drop to his knuckles, torn open in his defense of you. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Not to me.” You don’t know where you get the courage, to take his hand, and lead him up to your room. You can hardly believe it, that he actually follows you. In your ensuite bathroom you dab at his knuckles with a washcloth, slather him with ointment and plaster him with bandaids. You run out of sober flesh colored ones, so the last cut gets a Disney bandage, Ariel and sea-flowers decorating this severe man’s knuckles. 

He lets you do all this, watching you intensely with those dark eyes you’re certain can see into your soul. You stand too close–and he lets you, this haunted man who watches over you day and night. Your whole life you have never wanted for anything, your father’s money buying you all your heart could possibly desire.

Until now.

You find it hard to meet his eyes, zeroing in on a spot of blood on his stark white dress shirt. 

“Y/n.” With a gentle knuckle under your chin he turns your gaze up to his again. “You are too smart, and too beautiful, to be wasting your time with a fuckboy like Alexsei Plushenko.”

The first part you already knew. The second, from this man’s lips? Your knees nearly collapse out from under you, a flood of excitement and dread coursing through your system. You almost can’t stand it–it’s like being burned alive, and your native shyness rears with a vengeance. 

You try to flee, back to the safety of your room, and your books, your imaginary lives that can’t really hurt you–but he catches your hand. His grip is not hard, but it is enough to stop you dead in your tracks. 

“Y/n…” He’s pleading with you, but you don’t understand what he’s asking you. 

“You said you don’t want me, John…” you say, still unable to meet his eyes. “So let me go.” 

He answers by pulling you against him, the solid line of his torso a brick wall beneath the hand you raise to catch yourself. But bricks are not warm, like the flesh beneath his designer clothes. You can feel the wires in your brain sizzling, the synapses simply melting down. Your heart is Chernoble waiting to happen. 

“I didn’t say that.” 

“You said–”

“I said, ‘We can’t.’ Not, that ‘I don’t want you.’”

You almost cannot breathe, your heart attempting to beat out of your chest, a ringing in your ears that drowns out all else. There is nothing, nothing, in this world you’ve wanted more, than to hear those words from this man. But now that he’s standing before you, against you, holding you–you cannot move. You do not know what to do. 

He solves this problem by cupping your cheek in his big hand–God, how you’ve noticed those hands–and then he is pressing his mouth to yours, gentle at first, but then…hungry. As though John Wick has been starving, for you, and it’s all you can do just to stand there and take it without melting into a puddle on the floor. His arms wrap around your back, holding you, lifting you to your tiptoes as he devours you. When at last he pulls back you are left seeing stars, struck utterly speechless with your hands on his broad shoulders. 

“Tell me to stop,” he raggedly demands, his eyes boring down into yours. 

Finally, you find your courage, meeting his stare. “I don’t want you to stop,” you whisper. 

“Good. Because I don’t think I can.” He kisses you again, just as hungrily as the first time, his arm an iron band around your waist and his fingers sneaking up into your hair. That’s your kryptonite: your hair, and blithely you know he can do anything and everything he wants to you now.  

Your father is a bad man, but you have not had a bad life. You have never known hunger, or true physical pain. He has protected you from the violence of his world. He has played things smart enough that not even the FBI can touch you, even though they absolutely know what he is and where your family gets its money. Despite all this, you have been dying inside, a slow, withering demise, until John Wick’s lips touched yours. He is the life-giving rain over the desert; your heart is a field of wildflowers erupting in a superbloom. 

This time, he leads you, in between kissing you, to the loveseat at the foot of your bed. He sits, and only when he tries to pull you into his lap do you resist. “John…I’m too…much,” you insist, conscious of your generous flesh and what it would be like to set that on top of him, afraid he’ll be horrified. 

However, he just scoffs at you, grabbing you up anyway and guiding you down. For a moment you are weightless–he knows how to upset a person’s balance, how to use their weight against them to put them on the floor. This time he uses it to put you on him. You’re not exactly proud of it, but the ease with which he utterly manhandles you makes your long-neglected lady parts sing with desire. 

“You are perfect, dietka,” he insists, pulling you closer with hands on your round behind, “And I am very strong.” For the first time in you can’t remember how long–he smiles at you. That beautiful half smile with a sparkle in his dark eyes that takes your breath away–you love him so much it hurts. 

This time you don’t feel so shy, about kissing him. You feel like your bones are filled with butterflies, and you both moan and giggle as you do your best to devour each other from the mouth down. Aside from an appreciative squeeze of your thighs bracketing his hips, he doesn’t try to seduce you, even though you know you absolutely would have given him anything he asked you for. He is content, just to kiss you, for this night at least, and oh. He’s good at it too. 

You decide you would burn down the world, for one more kiss from John Wick.  

Later you find yourself snuggled in your bed with John, fully clothed, your head on his shoulder as he toys with the fine hairs at the back of your neck. His touch is heaven, and with your legs twined with his it’s hard not to squirm and writhe against his muscled thigh like a horny little gremlin. 

Later, you tell yourself. It can wait for later. 

Like maybe, tomorrow. 

“We’ll have to be careful,” he warns you. “If your father…” 

If your father found out, the best thing that could happen to John is getting fired. 

“I won’t let you get hurt,” you promise, kissing his bearded cheek, praying you’re telling the truth.

He chuckles at this; a deep sound you feel more than hear. “I thought that was my job?”

“You know what I mean.” 

“I know.” He looks down at you with a tenderness that curls your toes. “It would be worth it, for you.” 

Your heart has suddenly decided it would like to take up residence in your throat–permanently.

“Oh, John…”  

He kisses you again, a soft brush of lips that renders you weightless. This is how you die: it’s almost too much to stand, this impossibly full feeling in your chest. Then he narrows his eyes at you playfully. “You have been driving me mad, you little minx. I wanted to kill everyone who so much as looked at you in the Circle.” 

You snort at the thought–you do not understand, really, that he could absolutely do it too. 

“Not to worry. I think the library is more my speed.” He rests his head against yours with a small, contented sigh. “Mine too,” he admits. The smell of old books around you is a soothing balm to you both. 

You know small bits of his past. Morsels he has sprinkled, here and there in the conversations you have had. You know he did not have an easy childhood. You know that this life was not really his choice. Even less so than most, who move and work in the Underworld. 

“If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?” you ask. 

He lifts an eyebrow at you. “I’m liking New York, at the moment,” he tells you with an affectionate squeeze. 

“Oh come on.” 

“Fine. I like Paris a lot.” 

“Hmm,” you answer, but what you think, is: Done.  You will have the opportunity to arrange to study abroad soon, and you think a trip away from the Tarasov territory might do you both some good.

Surely Papachka wouldn’t deprive you of your most trusted bodyguard?

[redbird-tf]

Chamomile tea 

Dean winchester x (hunter ) sister reader

Summary: being alone for so long you’ve gotten used to only relying on yourself, a mindset that Dean starts to chip away at. 

Word count: 740

Notes: being creative is hard

Warnings: none

You sniffled, reaching across the table for a new tissue. You blew hard before discarding it in the bin with the dozen others.“Fever not letting up?” You jumped at Dean's voice, You weren't quite accustomed to having company around yet. The three of you were still navigating this new dynamic, which was proving easier for some than others. Just a few months ago Sam and Dean were the dynamic hunter duo, while you still navigated the world solo. You could still vividly recall the moment when John had announced the secret he had buried for years, the secret forced out because of a hunt.

——————

You remembered the look of shock that overtook everyone’s face and the screaming match that ensued between Sam and John. You could recall standing silently in the corner, feeling Dean gaze upon you from ten feet away. Once the job was done and John disappeared again you expected life to go back to normal, you couldn’t have anticipated the brothers to take you under their wing. “Family looks out for each other” Sam had stated to you, a mentality that you would come to learn.

What you hadn’t seen that night was the quiet devastation Dean had unleashed. He couldn’t pick a fight with John like Sam could, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t just as angry. His entire life he’d been forced into the role of a guardian for his little brother, and now to find out he had a sister—who had been alone in this life—turned that protective instinct into a fierce storm of emotions. The guilt of failing as brother was sallowing him whole and the rage towards John for keeping the truth from him boiled over. Least to say When they checked out, the motel room bore the scars of his turmoil.

——————-

“I'm fine” you stated blankly in response, your attention turning back to the lore book in your lap. You weren’t purposely being stubborn, to you it was true. You had gotten sick before and you'd get over it, no big deal. Dean didn't respond and carried on with his business in the kitchen. The sound of pouring liquid reached your ears, but it didn’t smell like his usual coffee so you assumed he was having a drink. Hearing what sounded like a spoon hitting the side of a ceramic mug you raised your head in confusion. Unfortunately, his back was turned to you, blocking your view of what he was conjuring up.

When he started to turn around, your eyes darted back to your book only looking up when hearing the soft clink of a mug being placed in front of you. You watched the steam rise, a sweet and sour aroma filling the air. “Is that chamomile tea?” A softer voice chimed in as Sam entered the room. “Not for you,” Dean stated firmly, taking a seat across from you. You stared at the drink “What is it?” You asked raising an eyebrow. “Tea, honey for a sore throat, and some lemon for the headaches” Dean explained leaning back in his chair. “Thats pure witchcraft right there, can fix anything!” Sam exclaimed pointing at the mug. “Drink up sis” sam encouraged, brushing his hand over your shoulder on his way to the door.

“You didn't have to do that,” you said softly to Dean. “I used to make them all the time for Sam, it's no big deal,” Dean reassured you. You fidgetedwith the edge of a page. “I'm not dying Dean.” Your tone came off defensive causing Dean to sit up straight. “You don't have to be dying, for someone to make you a cup of tea kiddo” his words prompted you to lift your head to meet his gaze. “I didn't mean…” your words trailed off, unable to defend your previous statement. “I'm your big brother, it's my job to look out for you.” He said with a stern tone. You could only stare at him in silence trying to comprehend his words. “I know it hasn't always been like that, but it is now. I've been a big brother for a long time and Sam’s still learning. i know you are too—just…” he took a deep breath “Let me do this for you, ok?” You nodded silently, noticing how his softened eyes contrasted with the weight of his words.

Without knowing what to say, you lifted the mug to your lips. The warmth of the citrus tea seeped into your chest, and you felt your tense muscles start to relax much like the protective wall you’ve built beginning to chip away. You gently placed the mug down, catching a glimpse of the small smile on Dean's face. “Thank you, Dean” you responded with a smile of your own. He didn’t respond with words instead, he stood up from the table, patting you on the shoulder as he passed by. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself when looking down at the mug in front of you.

———————-

[starsluver]

One of your girls| Theo Nott

Warnings: making out, smoking, curse words, toxic relationship kinda, both people being HELLA bipolar

Summary: Theo decides to start hooking up with Mattheo's sister until she asks to be public..

Being in love with your brother's best friend is the most complicated thing. Mattheo's already told Selena and Theo separately that nothing could happen between you two.

But did either of you listen? Fuck, no. Selena's been hooking up with Theo for the past two months. And fuck did it feel amazing, sure they weren't able to hang out publicly but that didn't stop them from going to amusement parks and malls together.

As soon as the sun went down they were able to have the moments they couldn't during the day, but how long did they have to do this for until they could be official? How long did Selena have to lie to the only person who knows her best?

Selena is by the window in her bedroom, smoking a cigarette that she stole from Mattheo's room until she hears a knock on her door. She quickly puts it on the floor and smashes it with her kitten heel slipper. "Come in!" Theo opens the door and steps inside, smiling.

He sees the cigarette on the floor, he chuckles a little. "you couldn't have just thrown it in the bin?" He remarks jokingly, shutting the door behind him. "I thought you were Mattheo," Selena says as Theo sits beside her on the bed. "Nope. Though I was wondering why he'd bother to knock in his own house." Theo leans on his arm, looking at Selena with eyes of lust and desire. Selena was always really hard to read but that didn't stop Theo, she said nothing back to him. He let out a frustrated sigh, "What's wrong?" "I don't know, you tell me" Selena says sarcastically, Theo rolls his eyes. "Okay, smartass..." He pushes himself off the bed and picks up another cigarette from off the floor. "I thought you said you didn't like smoking,"

"What are you gonna do? Tell my brother? He wouldn't do anything unless I tell him that his best mate is hooking up with his sister" Theo raises an eyebrow at her again like he doesn't believe what she's saying. "You seriously think he wouldn't care? He'd kill me if he knew."

"But seriously, what's wrong baby?" Baby. The one word that could make Selena completely break down. "Us! I don't know how long I can keep our relationship or whatever the fuck we are from everyone! I want to be with you! You make me feel all special and loved but the next day you're with my brother like nothing happened!" Theo runs a hand through his hair and bites his lip.

"Look," he says in a serious tone. "We've talked about this. We both know it wouldn't work. Mattheo's my best friend and it would just cause a conflict between us all if we-" "I saw you with Astoria" Selena cuts him off as another tear stains her cheek, Theo's jaw clenches. Looking away and then lets out a long sigh. "That's different...." he mutters

"How the fuck is that different, Theo?! She was all over you but when I talk to Cedric for a damn project, you punch him!" "Well- it's just- look, y'know you're different." He pauses, not knowing how to put it into words. "You'll never be just an option to me. She's just an option. I can switch from girl to girl but nothing can make me switch from you." Theo puts his hand on her cheek as the other runs through her hair. "but there's always gonna be other girls, right?"

"yeah..." Theo looks away. This wasn't the best time time to tell her but he couldn't lie to her anymore. "But there's no girl who can make me feel the way you do." "y'know that, Sel" Theo says as he grabs her chin and lifts her face to meet his eyes. "I mean why do you think I don't want to be with you? I don't wanna hook up with a bunch of random girls. I want you. I always have"

"then why am I a secret?" Selena says as her mascara runs down her face. "Selena....." Theo sighs "I just......." He pauses, thinking back to the conversation with Mattheo. Then, he wipes the tears off of her face. "I know that things are just a little complicated right now...."

“Can I ask you something?” he suddenly says, his tone now very soft and gentle. “why are you still trying to go on about us when we both know where this is going? you’re only going to end up hurting yourself.”

"but I want you, Theo. I want us to be the same even when the door isn't closed" Theo takes Selena into his arms as she curls into his lap." me too, Selena," he says in a sincere tone, taking her hands in his. “believe me, if there was a way for us to be together I’d do it.” he pauses, running his thumb along the back of one of her hands. “and do you think I haven't felt this way about you? I want you but I just can't ruin what I have with Mattheo..”

"you won't, he'll be way more mad that I'm hurting myself over you than being with you" Selena tries to convince Theo, He takes a deep breath as he rubs her shoulder gently. "Selena, you're gonna be okay," he says in a soft tone. "you're gonna meet some other handsome guy. and he'll fall in love with you and everything will work out. just not me."

"I don't want anyone else, don't leave. Theo, I want you" Selena panics as she begins to tear up again "…I want you too. but—“ he pauses, struggling to find the words to explain to her why he couldn’t be with her.

“I can't.” he takes a deep breath and starts to pull away. “I’m sorry Sel.” "Theo, please" Selena says as she hugs Theo tighter. he tenses up a little, not expecting the hug. But he hugs her back, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist. “we can’t do this,” He whispers into her ear, trying really hard to not feel anything.

"I don't care," Selena sobs, Theo lets out a heavy sigh and his muscles loosen. “Selena, stop…” He says gently, running his hand through her hair and pulling her face up to meet his eyes. “We talked about this. this isn't going to work."

"I wanna be one of your girls, Theo" Theo swallows hard, biting his lip. “I know you do…” he looks away, his eyes dropping down to her mouth. It hurt to hear her talk about herself like that but she wasn’t wrong.

a silence hangs between them, the only noise being their breaths. "then let me," “Selena…” Theo says almost pleadingly, pulling her closer to him. He wants to. More than anything he wants this. but.. “don't you see this is just gonna end badly?”

"I don't care if it ends badly, I just don't want to end now"Theo frowns, feeling his heart aching for her. If only he could be selfish right now. He closes his eyes and rubs his thumb across her cheek, pulling her closer to him again. “are you sure..?” Theo whispers into her neck. Selena nods,

"I love you, Theo" Theo shivers as Selena's words sink in. This wasn’t good. He could still back out of this. But he didn’t want to.

“I love you too.” Theo leans in, pressing his hands against her waist as he kisses her softly. Her lips tasted like strawberries, Theo slowly pulled her closer. His hands moved up Selena's back and held onto her waist. Every few seconds he pulls away to look into the depths of her brown eyes, Selena runs her fingers through Theo's hair.

He groans softly as he leans in to kiss her neck, pulling her closer by her hips until they both hear Selena's door creak open

[b0ng05]

Velcro Shoes - Sam Carpenter

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

Word Count: 1607

Prompt: Sam Carpenter and Y/n are having dinner over at Tara and Chad's house with their niece when the little girl accidentally mixes up her words.

Masterlist

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It was a typical Saturday night, Sam and Y/n had gone over to Tara and Chad’s for their weekly game night and dinner. After a night of eating takeout, having learned their lesson long ago in letting Chad cook, and a game night of Mindy shit-talking everyone in Uno and then her losing, it had grown late into the night. Mindy and her girlfriend had already bid their goodbyes and left, preventing Mindy from tackling Chad after he dropped four Draw 4 cards on her. But before Sam and Y/n could take their cue to leave as well, their 3 year old niece was quick to affirm they couldn’t go just yet. Sam and Tara had snuck off to the kitchen for some wine, knowing Tara’s daughter had a habit of demanding her mom share every snack or beverage she had. Y/n and Chad were left to attend the young child.

Y/n and Ruby were sitting on the carpeted floor of the living room, the little girl showing off her favorite stuffed animals from her toy bin in the corner, it was next to a tiny kid’s kitchen that Mindy had gotten her, having claimed she wanted her niece to at least be a better cook than her brother. After a few minutes of looking through her stuffed animals, the girl let out a big yawn and rubbed her eyes before they drifted down to the floor, a flash of bright colors catching her attention. “Auntie Y/n, I like your shoes,” Ruby smiled, her dimples showing as she looked at the colorful dinosaurs on Y/n’s shoes. “Yeah?” Y/n smiled back, glancing down at her shoes.

“Uh huh, they’re just like mine,” Ruby nods, going to grab one of her shoes from the shoerack. The small shoe was bright pink and sparkly with unicorns and velcro straps. The girl giggled happily as she pointed at the velcro on her shoes and the velcro on Y/n’s. Y/n’s shoes having been a gift from her eldest sister who had bought them for her years before Ruby was even born. “Yeah they are, yours are so pretty!” Y/n gushes, causing a big grin to spread across the little girl’s face as she let out a little giggle. Her nose scrunching in a way similar to her mother's. “We both have strap on shoes!” The little girl cheers innocently, excited at the thought of matching shoes with her soon-to-be aunt.

Y/n’s eyes go wide, and a look of horror crosses her face as her head whips over in Chad’s direction, her eyebrows practically reaching her hairline. The dumbfounded look on Chad’s face and her own dirty mind makes her burst out in laughter, trying to turn away from Ruby, not wanting the young girl to think she was being laughed at for the matching shoes part. As Y/n laughs, her mind takes the words “strap on shoes” and runs with it, both mortified and incredibly amused with the images her brain created. “That’s not what they’re called, sweetie!” Y/n wheezes out as tears brim her eyes.

Y/n layed sprawled out on the floor of the living room, wheezing in laughter. Her face bright red and tears streaming down her cheeks as she clutches her stomach in pain, but the words that left the little girl’s mouth left her in a torturous state of giggles. Ruby had her father’s eyes and her mother’s smile. But the words that had left her mouth minutes prior had definitely proved Chad’s paternity more than her uncanny features. Chad covered his mouth with his fist as his wife and sister-in-law entered in from the kitchen, hiding his laugh with a fake cough. “What’s so funny in here?” Sam asks, a grin poking at the corner of her lips upon the sight on her fiancee dying in laughter on the floor. “I dunno,” Ruby shrugs, lifting her tiny hands in the air with a confused look on her face, and tired eyes that had begun to droop. “Chad?” Tara inquires, a small smile on her face as she takes a seat next to him on the couch.

Ruby made her way into Tara’s lap as Chad gave a shrug mocking an overdramatic confused face. Tara narrows her eyes at him playfully as she coddles her daughter. His reaction proving to her enough that there was some sort of dirty joke involved. “Y/n/n? Care to fill us in?” Sam teases, moving to sit next to her fiancee who had just started calming down until she heard Sam’s words before wheezing out in laughter again, dirty jokes consuming her brain. Tara and Sam look at each other with amusement and confusion, Chad’s eyes gandering everywhere around the room except his wife, sister-in-law and Y/n’s eyes trying to avoid the topic and busting into laughter.

“Seriously, you guys are giving me fomo, in my own home. Tell me,” Tara playfully scoffed, her hand rubbing her daughter’s back as she was swaying the girl in her arms, who was falling asleep, having been awake longer than her usual bedtime. “I’ll take her to bed and uh- Y/n, you’re it-” Chad starts off calmly as he picked up Ruby from Tara’s arms, before whisper-shouting the end and speedwalking to put his daughter to bed. As Y/n wiped the tears off her face with the sleeves of her sweater, Sam and Tara looked at her with expecting yet amused looks. “Your daughter was trying to say we had matching velcro shoes, and-” Y/n paused as she tried to compose herself, “She goes, ‘We both have strap on shoes!’,” Y/n says, trying to reinact the excitement in the girl’s voice. Sam bites back a smile as she looks over at Tara who let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose and she tried to hold back a small laugh.

“And then like- it got me thinking,” Y/n tries to stifle a giggle, “How would that work? Like- is the strapon on the bottom of the shoes? Because that would bring a whoolee new meaning to kicking someone’s ass. Or is it more of a door stopper situation?-” Before Y/n can toss out the few last jokes Sam cuts her off, playfully slapping her shoulder as she chuckled. Tara’s giggles brought Sam and Y/n from their small moment. Tara was covering her face with her hands as the strange imagery crossed her mind. Cringing at the idea of someone being kicked in the ass with the hypothetical shoes. “I think we should end the night off on that note,” Tara laughs as she gets up from the couch, shaking her head in amusement as she walked down the hall towards her daughter’s room to check on her husband and child. After Tara left the room, Y/n glances over at Sam with a cheeky grin. Sam laughs and stands up from the floor, holding her hands out to help her fiancee up from her spot. “I think scientists might need to study your brain.” Sam chuckles, pulling the woman up with ease. “Why? Cause I’m so funny?” Y/n jokes, smiling as Sam kisses her forehead.

“Uh- sure. We’ll go with that.” Sam teases, pretending to be thrown off by the statement. “Hey! I’m funny!” Y/n playfully pouts, looking up at Sam, her eyes riddled with mischief. “If that helps you sleep at night, baby,” Sam teases as they walk over to the coathooks near the door, passing the shorter woman her coat. “Back to the shoes though- how do you think a roundhouse kick would-” Sam cuts her fiancee off by shaking her head laughing as she walks out the front door, leaving Y/n behind to hastily put on her coat, speedwalking to catch up to her soon-to-be wife. “Y’know, I’m still your fiancee, being mean to me could result in a demotion,” Y/n playfully teases as she huffs to catch her breath, having to take more steps to get in speed with the taller woman’s stride.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Sam pauses, smirking as she glances over at Y/n, taking her hand in her own, “You love me too much, and you’re too excited to call yourself my wife to demote me.” She states as they get on the elevator, Sam smiling lovingly as she moves out of the way to let Y/n press the button, something that always gave the woman a dorky sense of excitement. Some thought it was childish, but Sam thought it was cute to see her get excited over something so small. “First floor or second, madame?” Y/n mocks a professional tone and she elegantly holds her pointer finger out, spinning it around the air playfully anticipating the number. “First, dork.” Sam rolls her eyes adoringly as she watches her press the button overdramatically.

Y/n grins as she steps over to Sam’s side, wrapping her arm around Sam’s waist as they wait for the elevator to take them down. Sam wraps her arm around the shorter woman’s shoulders, pulling her in closer and kissing her forehead. “I love you nerd.” Sam sighs playfully. “I love you too, baby,” Y/n giggles, leaning up to kiss Sam’s cheek. “But do you think-” Before Y/n can finish her sentence, Sam cuts her off. “Baby, I really don’t want to think about you roundhouse kicking someone in the ass with a strapon shoe.” Sam sighs. “Don’t you mean dicking someone in the ass-” Sam groans loudly at the pun.

[goblin-enjoyer]

Normalize the tf2 mercs as being absolute genetic freaks of nature under the hood. Medic is crazy and we know he gets paid good so he’s probably got lots of bits in his bin if you know what I mean.

Pyro is straight up nonhuman. Pyro is a fire elemental that the Mann brothers have bound to a hazmat suit and medic made a real boy by giving them meat. Not making her a human body mind you, but rather every time he gets damaged, instead of bursting into flames meat forms around the wound and it bleeds instead of letting the inner crea tur out.how? Wizard. Moving on.

Soldier has massive lungs that make him 20% more louder. If he was smarter he could probably echolocate his way around. That or sound attacks idk he eats wizard pills he could have hollow bones for all I know. Sure he has hallow bones now for rocket jumping. Im the one typing I get to make nonsense on the fly.

Medic put pigeon dna in scout and that’s how he makes his trademark milk-like substance. How this happens you may ask? Scout saw medics doves have sex while getting his second Uber heart surgery and said “man I wish I could pick up chicks that well” and medic said “good idea I will help you with this” and then looked at the camera and smirked. The administrator does not spectate medics lab/operation room/dove breeding center anymore. Also scouts immune to radiation due to all the bonk he ingests, though sometimes he does become radioactive sometimes. 

We already know that demoman’s body creates alcohol and that he has a ghost eye, but did you know that if you shoot him with some sort of piercing explosive round he will combust into flames. I… I couldn’t really think of anything for demoman I don’t play him as much.

Engineer always wishes he could have kids, but doesn’t want to have sex. That and he removed most of his reproductive/unnecessary/extra/mid organs with machine parts like 30 years ago. So after the events of the games and comics where everyone is happy and junk, he teams up with medic to make himself some half robot half human half whatever dell conagher is at that point at time children. He asks if medic ever want kids he can do the same for him but he declines as at this point in time he has perfected the art of male impregnation.(on various ape parts) dell is a great father and yes I added this part because the whole humanized sentry thing that went around a while ago touched my heart because despite the words of almost every engineer main everywhere I get so attached to the sentries I build that I die a little bit inside every time I die and my buildings get sapped and I have to just watch as my babies get destroyed. I get too attached to my buildings to play engineer

Heavy doesn’t stop growing, similar to that of a reptile. His skin is as thick as a rhinos. He hibernates for a month in summer because I said so. He has accidentally killed/crushed medic before and is now eternally cautious when in bed with him. Medic doesn’t mind, he knows what he’s gotten himself into. Heavy can also talk to birds like a Disney princess. Medic didn’t add any bird parts for this to happen he just was always like this.

Sniper can dislocate every bone in his body and go through cracks that are at least the size of his head. He will use this to show up in the most unexpected places imaginable. Is legally classified as an tardigrade in some places due to his ability to be fine in almost any place (volcano,Arctic,sewer system, a walk in closet so large it took him 5 weeks to get out, space that one time). Can go up to a year without eating (the team found this out at the same time they figured out the space thing). Swallows things whole.

Spy can shift his flesh around to disguise as almost anything, keeps the mass and weight though. Breaths mostly through his skin so he doesn’t cough due to his decrepit lungs. Was hit by a car once. Doesn’t have anything to do with the subject matter of the tf2 mercs being freakish beings with human skin but I just wanted to include it here.

Medic. What isn’t medic? The only thing consistent with his biology is that he can regenerate somehow. He alters his body so much that it is roughly equivalent to 1 tyranid hive fleet and 2,million ork painboys.(the tf2 mercs would be more likely to work for the orks than to ever work for one of the human factions in 40k and I just needed to get that off my chest) This is how he manages to get away with all the things he’s done. Banned from this continent? Just become a new person who’s not banned from that continent and presto you’re good! The laws don’t account for the ship of Theseus!

[sonntam]

I don't think I've seen a write-up on various fairy-tale and Russian sayings references in the English translation, so I'd like to make one.

"Puddles make poor drinks" and "Gorkhon water will turn you into livestock": what's up with that?

There is a fairytale about a big sister and the little brother. They walk for a long time and the brother is very thirsty. His big sister keeps telling him to keep going and not to drink from the puddles, like a goat. Eventually the little brother drinks from the puddle.

And promptly turns into a goat.

Rest of the fairytale is about the big sister returning the little brother to his original form.

So, this is where the talks about puddles and water turning you into livestock is about.

The Akela joke did not work at all in the translation.

It comes from Mowgli, which is well known due to the USSR cartoon. In the book (and in the cartoon) the elderly wolf leader Akela misses during a hunt... after which he promptly is deposed as a leader of the pack. Mowgli loses his protection and this is a Big Deal.

So whenever a boss in real life makes a silly mistake (say, throwing a paperball into the bin and missing) everyone thinks it's very funny to say "Akela missed!" implying that they will get a new boss now and the current one will get deposed for this mistake.

Here "Akela never misses" means that Khan being at risk of infection and coming into the nutshell does not diminish his importance at all and his dogheads are just as loyal as before, happily delivering loot to him.

There is a saying: "Better a sparrow in hand, than a stork in the sky."

It means that you should treasure what you have, instead of preferring that which you can't get (so easily).

Lara Ravel references that she can't be happy with the little she has. She wants to help others and for this she needs more.

"Maybe I could be useful to you" is a classic thing that various animals say to people in fairytales, once they are caught and plead for their lives.

I think, this is a popular trope in English fairytales as well, but the phrasing here is lifted directly from fairytales in Russian, so pointing it out either way.

"Everyone's shirt is closer to their skin" is a well known Russian saying.

It means that your happiness and comfort is always more important to you than the comfort of other people. Hence: your shirt is closer to your skin, so you care about it more.

"Silence implies assent" is another popular saying (it even rhymes in Russian).

If someone proposes a course of action and no one speaks out against it or for it, then people usually say "silence is a sign of assent" and consider the matter settled. (Or, more often, people then suddenly say that they disagree and you get a more lively and productive conversation.)

I can't find another screenshot, but Dankovsky says something similar about "I wore down seven pairs of shoes getting to this town".

It obviously could be taken as a factual statement, but most likely it's a reference to fairytales.

In a lot of fairytales the protagonist will be given on a long journey seven pairs of iron boots. Once all of them break, the hero has reached his destination.

Same here: it's a fairytale way of saying that you had a long and arduous journey (or in Capella's case, ran around the whole town for years).

"I'll just peek with one eye" is another popular Russian phrase.

"Can I look?"

"No"

"How about if I look with just one eye?"

Obviously, it's nonsense, but it's a typical thing to say if you REALLY want to look at something, so you just say "pleeeease, I will just look only a little".

[ane-doodles]

Hello! Love your multiple Lambs and your artstyle! You, me, @poppy-purpura, and @agnusloomis are the only ones I know of currently with multiple Lambs. Tell me of your Sorrow and Fondness Lamb, and also the Showman. How did those two come to be? Drink water plenty. May a kind week grace you.

Yayayaya! At first I tried to resist having so many AUs... but in the end it's something that makes me happy, even if I'm not able to write/draw a good story for everyone in the end.

Oh yes rambling time LETS GO!! (notice that a LONG post is coming)

Suemy (Fondness & Sorrows AU) This is born from a kind of "What if" from Chain for a promise, in which instead of Avana being the last lamb, the one who survives is her twin sister Suemy.

If you have had the opportunity to read my little ramblings previously you will have an idea of what this entails, if not I will tell you already: in CFP the tragedy occurs two days before Suemy's wedding, she and her partner being the first to die, followed by the parents of the family and finally Caleb (the older brother) who dies protecting Avana.

However, in F&S the formula changes: Caleb and Suemy's partner are the first to die in order to give the sheeps time to escape, but this does not last more than a couple of days since both are found easily and in an attempt desperate to protect her sister, Avana dies, leaving Suemy alone as the lamb of the prophecy.

Suemy is someone sweet, kind, I originally designed her based on the image of a princess with a heart of gold and a soft and melodious voice. So here she is now, heartbroken, alone, incapable of attachment, completely detached from the cult and fulfilling a mission assigned to her while grief suffocates her. She becomes an untouchable and perfect figure in the eyes of her followers, but inside so small with a wound that she herself refuses to let heal and that bleeds her heart every day.

But, "oh lucky one... A god has set his eyes on her.

In two lives immersed in the sadness of loss and betrayal, both meet to perhaps repair a little of the damage accumulated by the passage of time and repressed feelings.

Narinder was initially hardened by the pain and frustration of his siblings' betrayal, combined with the helplessness of being dependent on someone else to free himself. A whirlwind of strong and changing emotions within him that blind his vision, focusing only on a revenge calculated for more than a thousand years without rest...

But a hardened heart is capable of softening in the face of the purest tears, and with a delicate hand the wounds can be sutured..."

This AU is a kind of Post-Canon bad ending Hurt/Comfort. There is not much plot to tell, it focuses mainly on the thousand and one ways in which Narinder cares for and pampers the lamb in order to make her feel good, while at the same time the desire for revenge (the main reason for being freed) is replaced with the desire to protect such a delicate flower that bleeds in his hands.

.......

Now, about The Showman... Funny story

This lamb was supposed to be my Lambsona, something for personal use to scribble among my class notes... But little by little it evolved.

The Box AU is a sort of "bin of discarded ideas" (it basically has all the ideas, scenes, and dynamics that I decided to leave out or modify from CFP but still enjoy). The Box AU is totally self-indulgent and I'm still amazed today at how far I've come in thinking about this AU (I've even considered twisting it a bit and turning it into an original story).

Anyway, the story in a nutshell: In short the game was broken.

Einar is a black sheep, they was separated from the group due to superstitions, but they never took It the wrong way. They became a kind of traveler/storyteller when they abandoned their flock, thanks to this they was the last lamb to survive.

The lamb is strong... Too strong actually, but they lacks any battle skills which makes them die often (it's based on my save file, because despite playing on easy mode I'm terrible at combat). Frustrated with this, they decides to find another way to complete their mission of freeing The One Who Waits.

By chance, they discovers a book with ancient knowledge of the gods of the ancient faith, where there are multiple rituals forgotten by time. Thanks to this, they learn a way to invoke the god of death and free him from his punishment!! ...But with the price that he is now trapped in a mortal body with his powers reduced and a suppressed rage towards the lamb.

Even so, Einar considers it a victory and offers to help him rebuild, expand and please the cult, so that through devotion his powers return, but of course, the crown is missing.

It turns out that the crown is "stuck" to Einar's head, as they were designated as the perfect vessel, which is why the crown rejects the cat's attempts to retrieve it. On one occasion Narinder reviews the ancient book of the lamb and discovers a possible solution to his problem... A union ritual. Once he and the lamb unite the power of the crown will be divided, then it will be a matter of getting rid of the usurper.

Either way, this won't be so easy. Since in this AU Narinder and the lamb don't really know each other (the ritual happens before confronting Leshy). So there you see Narinder behind the lamb trying to convince him of a marriage while Einar rejects him a thousand and one times without the slightest interest and trying to discover a way to grow the cult.

I love the dynamic between these two in this AU. A combination of comedy, silliness, misunderstandings, adorableness, and a manhwa-style romance (because hey, the marriage of convenience trope has to come from somewhere).

I like to imagine that between Narinder's frustrated attempts to conquer/convince Einar, he gradually develops a special affection for them, while for his part the lamb sees the god as a companion, a friend and someone with whom maybe they wants to identify himself in some way (you know... A black sheep and a black cat)

And well! This is a kind of summary/introduction!!

I'm sorry for making such a LONG text, but I really like thinking about them and the idea of sharing a bit of my brainrot was too tempting to contain...

F&S doesn't have much material currently, but I'm drawing a couple of sketches from time to time (still figuring out how to do Narinder's post-imprisonment design).

On the contrary, Box AU has a considerable amount of material, scenes, ideas, sketches and even its own shitten with a sequel! So if you're interested in that let me know and I'll make a super post dedicated to this AU.

Have a wonderful day!!

[lulublack90]

Prompt 21 - Ancient Greece

@wolfstarmicrofic August 21, word count 940

This is the last part of the Apple Core Series from a Wolfstar POV. There will be a part three starting next month where I am going to write my first Rosekiller. Hope you've all enjoyed the story so far.

Previous part First Jegulus part

Everyone was in on Monday. Effie had insisted and, as usual, she got her way. But Regulus had called in a few friends for the occasion as well. 

“Who are they and why are they in my kitchen?” Sirius asked his brother with a sceptical look on his face as he took in the two men and the tiny elf-like woman with a ridiculous amount of floaty hair, standing just inside the door. 

“These insane people are your personal protection unit. The second Wormtail steps foot in the café, they will be on him. Have you ever seen a lion lake down a wilder beast? That’s them.” Regulus smiled proudly as he gestured to his friends. 

“That’s really kind of you to volunteer them, Reggie, but you do know that we’re just going to ban him and not kill him, right?”

“Aw, take all the fun out of it, why don’t you,” The one he thought was Barty sulked. 

“Don’t worry, babe, you can stab me in bed tonight,” Evan purred in his ear loud enough for them all to hear. 

“I think I’m about to have a stroke,” Sirius groaned, dropping his head into his hand. 

“I can smell burning toast,” Pandora piped up, sniffing the surrounding air.

“Shit!” Sirius spun around, pulled the burnt toasties from the machines and tossed them straight into the bin.  

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine,” Regulus patted Sirius’s arm. “They’ll scare him just enough so that he never comes back.”

“Fine. Now get out of my kitchen, I have toasties to create!”

 ***

It didn’t take long for Wormtail to turn up. He waltzed in as though nothing was amiss, not that he knew it was, and sat at his usual table. He opened the menu, blocking his view in front of him, and began reading. That’s when Barty and Evan pounced. 

“Hello,” Evan said, his voice smooth as velvet. Wormtail jumped and dropped his menu. 

“Oh, er, hi. Erm, I don’t really like sharing a table, if, if you don’t mind,” He squeaked nervously as Barty picked up the fork from in front of him and twirled it in his fingers. 

“Well, we don’t like little rats who film our friends,” Barty said in an over-calm way. His smile was just a bit too toothy. Even Sirius felt unnerved from his viewpoint. 

Two chairs dragged across the floor and stopped beside the table. Effie and Monty sat down, looking all polite. 

“And we don’t appreciate our son’s being used for your entertainment,” Effie hissed. Barty looked at her impressed. Sirius felt like there’d be another handful of strays added to their family by the end of this. 

“What she said,” Monty said cheerfully as he leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving Wormtail. 

“Peter?” Pandora appeared out of nowhere. “Peter Pettigrew, is that you?” She gasped. “Oh, haven’t you been naughty? I’ve a good mind to tell your mother on you. Using my dear friend Sirius to get views online. That’s not very nice, you know,” She chastised him. 

Two more chairs joined the group. 

“The only one who can torture my brother is me,” Regulus sneered. "The fact you think you have the right to film him at all is beyond me." 

“Dickhead,” James shot at him. 

“James Fleamont Potter, language,” Effie gasped. 

“Sorry, Mum,” James flushed and tried again. “You hurt my friend, prepare to di—” Monty elbowed his son in the ribs, “Have a good telling off,” He huffed. 

Remus took Sirius’s hand and led him over to the table. 

"It gives me great pleasure, Mr Pettigrew, to inform you--” Remus said too sweetly. 

“Sling your hook, you're barred!” Sirius shouted at the cowering man. Wormtail jumped to his feet and ran for the door.   

Then, like some film about Ancient Greece, they all charged down the giant rat, yelling and screaming after him. Sirius brandishing his toastie tongs and Remus throwing coffee cup lids like discuses, as Peter Pettigrew scurried down the road as fast as his short legs could carry him and disappeared around the corner out of sight. 

“I got it all on film! I got it all on film!” Effie cried out excitedly. 

“So did I,” Monty grinned wildly. “Oh, wait,” His face fell. “I had it on the wrong camera. It’s just my face.”

“So who’s watching the café?” James asked once they were done cheering and laughing at Monty. 

“Oh shit!” Sirius yelled and raced back to the unmanned café.

They went back to serving their customers as if nothing had happened. Sirius couldn't believe how lucky he was to have so many people who cared about him like his chosen family did. Remus came up behind him and wrapped him in a hug. Sirius turned his face so he could kiss Remus on the lips. "I love these guys so much," He said, sighing happily as he watched them all chatting and laughing. 

"I love you," Remus whispered in his ear, making Sirius's knees go weak. 

"I love you too," He said, capturing Remus's lips with his own again. "Think Reggie would mind if we snuck off into his flat for a bit?" He asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. 

"Yes he bloody would!" Regulus glared at them. "Mine." 

"Want a bet?" Sirius asked, but didn't wait for an answer as he dragged Remus out of the staff door with Regulus screaming bloody murder behind them.

He spun Remus around and kissed him properly. "Chinese for tea?"

"Yeah, go on then," Remus laughed, kissing him one more time before going back to his counter to take the orders of their waiting customers. 

[nahoney22]

this is so fun, ive only ever seen events after they close it 😂 congrats on the 3k! could i get "you bring out the good in me" with crosshair? thanks and I hope you have a wonderful day!

3000 Prompt List Celebration

Crosshair X GN!Reader

word count: 750 words

SFW

prompt:

“You bring out the good in me.”

warnings: Mainly fluff with a gender neutral reader. Grumpy and sunshine trope. Can be seen as platonic or romantic relationship. Crosshair gets in a fight, very minor mention of blood.

authors note: so sorry for the wait anon! Enjoy.

"Cross, who have you been fighting?"

You stride into the main part of the ship, your hands on your hips, a playful glint in your eyes as you notice the nasty gash on Hunter's brother, Crosshair's eyebrow. He grunts and hisses at Hunter's attempts to tend to the wound, clearly in a foul mood.

"Can you take over? He's being too stubborn for his own good," Hunter sighs, handing you the cloth and leaving it to you to deal with the moody Marksman.

As always, you and Crosshair are complete opposites. Your radiant optimism and eagerness to seize the day clash with his brooding demeanor. Despite his attempts to deny it, he often wears a mardy face, seeming to glare at everything and everyone.

"So, are you going to let me help?" you ask, stepping in front of him with the cloth in hand. He gnaws angrily on a toothpick, arms folded, and avoids meeting your gaze. But you're determined to break through his grumpy exterior.

You tilt your head, waiting patiently for a reaction or response, but Crosshair remains stubbornly silent. With an amused roll of your eyes, you playfully tap his boot with your own and use the nickname he despises the most, "Crossy, answer me."

His shoulders tense, and he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath before finally tilting his head down to look at you. "Don't call me that," he grumbles.

"Ah, good to know you can talk," you chirp, a mischievous smile on your face. "Now, can I clean your cut?"

He sucks on the inside of his left cheek, clearly reluctant, but eventually, he nods, allowing you to proceed.

Adding some ointment to the cloth, you gently dab at the dried blood and shake your head teasingly. "So, who's the unlucky guy?"

He chuckles slightly, removing the toothpick from his mouth and flicking it with ease into a nearby bin. "Just... that guy at the club."

"From two nights ago?" you ask, surprised.

He nods, and you remember the unfortunate run-in you both had with that guy, who clearly left a negative impression on Crosshair. He made rude comments about you, and to your surprise, Crosshair didn't take it lightly. Wrecker had to pull him away before things escalated, but it seems Crosshair went back to pay the guy a visit.

You let out a sigh, feeling both grateful and a little annoyed. "Cross, you didn't have to do that for me."

"He was an arse," Crosshair mutters, the anger still evident in his eyes.

"Yeah, he was," you admit, recalling the harsh words that were exchanged. "But you're better than this." You gently gesture to the cut on his brow, and you notice a tinge of guilt on his face.

He falls silent, and as you finish cleaning up the cut to the best of your ability, you toss the cloth away and offer him a gentle smile. "Thank you, though."

He huffs a little, shifting awkwardly in his place, not so used to appreciation. "I mean it. I couldn't imagine you doing that for anyone else," you admit.

A small smirk plays on his lips, clearly pleased that you appreciate his actions, even if they were a bit extreme. "Well, what can I say?"

You tilt your head, raising a brow, silently encouraging him to continue. His demeanor changes as he stands taller, no longer leaning against the control panel. "You bring out the good in me," he says, surprising you with his rare display of softness.

You had always been warm towards him and would say the two of you were friends (even if he wouldn’t say so). So to hear that you had some kind of impact on him was enough to warm your already loving heart.

"You've always been a good man. Just don't go hitting people on my behalf," you reply softly with a chuckle, your arms stretching open. "Now, give me a hug."

He pulls a face and shakes his head. "No."

"Aw, come on, Crossy! You know you want to!" you tease playfully in a sing-song tone, and without waiting for his permission, you wrap your arms tightly around his stomach, hugging him closely. He keeps his arms folded over his chest, seemingly waiting for you to let him go.

"I really don't," he protests, but you can sense a hint of reluctance in his voice. Eventually, he does hug back. It’s quick and awkward but you know that he did kind of like it.

Masterlist

Prompt List Works

Tags: @blustalker @andyoufollowyourheart t @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @imalovernotahater @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @crystal076 @ashotofspotchka @oohyesplease @theroguesully @mustluvecho @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @by-the-primes @the-bad-batch-baroness @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @kixs-husband @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi i @greaser-wolf f @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @raevulsix

[wisekiwi123]

The S class that I raised vampire au: Prologue

( Hi everyone it's Kiwi, I will be officially writing this AU so please let me know if I make any mistakes since I am knew to writing fanfics. Hope you enjoy it )

original post for more info:

https://www.tumblr.com/wisekiwi123/747487646743396352/vampire-au-where-all-the-s-classes-are-vampires?source=share

***

“Happy birthday–”

“ Who hurt you hyung”

Yoojin paused as he watched his younger brother storm into the kitchen decorated with birthday decorations with a very sour look on his face. Ignoring the cake with eleven candles on the table Yoohyun began to expect the cast on his older brother's arm carefully, his frown becoming deeper with every second.

“There was a little accident at work today nothing too serious” Yoojin laughed nervously as he avoided direct eye contact with his brother  “ It will be healed in a few weeks anyway so how about we look at the birthday present I got you instead”

“ Hyung this is serious” Yoohyun shook his head “ Was it your co-workers again or maybe you taking on more dangerous jobs without telling me”

“I wouldn’t say dangerous—“

“So you are taking on more deadly jobs!” Yoohyun shouted before he started clenching his teeth tightly.

‘ His integration skills are getting better by the day’Yoojin lampooned to himself as Yoohyun continued to fret over his broken arm.

 It was true he was taking on more dangerous tasks but it was never anything he couldn’t handle. Being a vampire hunter was a very high-demanding job which often had well-paying quests that only a fool would miss out on. Besides it was his brother's birthday and he wanted to make it especially special so he may have taken on more rewarding jobs that were slightly harder than usual.

‘Even so, I should have been more careful’ Yoojin thought to himself as his free hand reached to pat his brother's hand.

 “It's because of me again isn’t…” Yoohyun whispered as his shoulders began to slump downwards “If I were born a normal human hyung would not have to work so hard. If I wasn’t a vampire hyung wouldn't  get hurt—

“Han Yoohyun that is enough” Yoojin firmly said with a solemn look on his face.“I told you before that I am not doing anything I don't want to do and you will never be a burden to me ever”

Yoojin’s hand reached out to pinch the side of Yoohyun’s cheek, he smiled largely as he spoke.

“I am your Big brother it's my job to look after you while it's your job to grow up well and live a good life. Sorry for making you worry  and I promise not to take risks on purpose”

“Promise  not  to take risks ever”

 “Ok now you're pushing it, I still need to make a living you know”

“Fine hyung but when I am older you will never have to work again since I will be strong enough  to protect you”

“Sounds like a plan but  make sure to study as well ok?”

Yoojin hugged Yoohyun as he laughed while Yoohyun smiled back slightly revealing a set of small fangs as he accepted his brother’s embrace.

“Now let me cut the cake after you blow out the candle ”

“Hyung no let me do it instead!”

“Fine if that's what the birthday boy wants”

The snow gently gathered by the window as the night sky remained starless as both brothers munched on cake. The red gift wrapping was discarded in the corner of the old kitchen’s bin along with some empty vials of blood.

The winter nights were often long but it was never lonely. Not on this practical night at least.

***

Small puffs of cold smoke escaped Yoojin's lips as he looked up at the starless night with nostalgia. Snow piled by his feet as he stood before humongous gates made of silver and gold which opened to a driveway that seemed to be freshly shovelled of any snow speck of snow.

Yoojin turned his eyes away from the sky to look directly at an obnoxiously grand mansion of substantial size at the end of the driveway. His gloved hand gripped a single piece of paper tightly as he swallowed dry spit.

‘I am sorry Yoohyun” Yoojin thought as he took a step past the gate

“Promises can only be kept if I see you again” He muttered dropping the the wrinkled paper on the frozen ground before taking large strides forward. A calculated risk the first of many.

The paper continues to lay upright and undisturbed on the snow. The words wanted vampire , dead and 50,000 are written in bold along with Han Yoohyun's face plastered right in the middle.

(next chapter is currently being made.Hope everyone has a great night/day )

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Skeleton slips on a banana.

All skellies except Willow.

Undertale Sans - He stays the face buried in the floor and refuses to move again. It's pretty clear the world doesn't want him to wake up today so he's not going to struggle and accept his fate. Call him when it's time to eat.

Undertale Papyrus - Papyrus is MAD. He just lost the dish he cooked all morning. He's cursing and screaming, and then he just stops. Who put that comically well-placed banana on the floor? ".... SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANS!!!!!!!!!" The whole house is shaking because of how loud he is. Even Sans knows better than to go out of his room for now lol.

Underswap Sans - He's not amused. He was about to break his record on his morning jogging and that stupid banana ruined everything! He doesn't even like bananas! He's stomping the thing until there's nothing of it left.

Underswap Papyrus - He ate a banana, threw the skin, missed the bin, took a step forward to catch it midair, slipped on the banana, and fell on his back. He decides it's enough for one day, and goes to curl up on the couch to cry.

Underfell Sans - He takes a deep breath, summons a blaster, and dusts that stinky banana out of existence. It's maybe a bit too extreme, but it feels good so he doesn't regret anything. He's a lot calmer now that he was allowed to express his anger.

Underfell Papyrus - He gives a death glare to everyone who saw him fall so pathetically and makes sure each of them knows he will remember their faces until the end of the world and that if they dare to cross his road again, something bad will happen to them. Yes, he's dramatic. But thankfully, he also has a scary face and somehow everyone believes his little bluff. Sometimes, he loves being scary.

Horrortale Sans - Uh. He's a bit confused about what happened. He was walking in the street just fine and suddenly he finds himself on his back, Willow looking him down from (very) high and smirking at his misery. He just blinks in shock, then does his best to stand up and do like nothing happened. He didn't even see the banana. Maybe because it's stuck under his shoes. Give him some time, he will eventually realize from where this horrible "plush plush" noise is coming.

Swapfell Sans - Trying to save himself, he made things worse. The banana is now crushed under his entire leg, on his beautiful handmade suit. Nox is in denial. Surely that didn't just happen. He will close his eyes for a few seconds, and when he'll open them, it will all just be a nightmare. That's when Rus comes, smirks, and asks if he shit his pants or something. It's enough for Nox to explode and throw himself at his throat to strangle him.

Swapfell Papyrus - Cool, he found a banana! He starts to lick the ground to eat it. Everyone is disgusted, his brother pretends he doesn't have a brother anymore, but Rus is happy to be in the middle of everyone's attention and will eat the whole thing to please the crowd. Everyone hated this.

Fellswap Gold Sans - He sighs. Of course, it had to happen right in front of the King and the Queen. He felt his credibility skill dusted at the same time of his enormous ego. That's fine, laugh all you want. He will come back. Stronger. With a thousand bananas. We will see who will laugh after that. He stomps away, sobbing the royal couple like the sassy queen he is, and leaves, the butt covered in smashed banana.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He stays on the floor, just sad. Why does this always happen to him? He's just a baby, he did nothing wrong ever in his life :( Ok, maybe he smashed he threw a few bananas at that Karen who looked at him badly in the store. And ok, maybe he forgot he threw bananas and slipped on one of his own bananas in front of everyone. But still, he's a victim in all of this. That's unfair :( He's going to call his brother to complain.

[8-rae-rae-8]

Classification AU drabble with a little bit of shrinking while regressed <3

A little thing with the Riley family. A mini fix it, if you will

Tw drugs, addiction, alcohol, self harm

It was usually up to Tommy to take care of Simon when he happened to regress. Which would happen at the worst times, really. As the two got older, it got worse then suddenly stopped when Simon began to pick up on the fact that he was receiving less and less help, leaving him sick, hungry, gross, and unbathed... Needles began appearing in Tommy's space, and god Simon could hardly fight back tears.

Relying on his little brother was already hard enough, now his dad got Tommy hooked on something that could and probably would kill him. Tommy wasn't a caregiver, he was simply neutral. A normal guy, with no instinct on whether Simon needed him or not. But Tommy still- well used to, take care of Simon the best. Their mom wasn't around much, mostly with her friends to escape their dad or drinking. Addictions ran in the family.

Seeing his brother fall into drugs hardly kept Simon any more stable. But he forced back regressing. He had to because he couldn't take care of himself. He had to because he needed the keep the peace in the family. And that meant staying big and protecting his, very intoxicated, little brother when their dad would come at them in the middle of the night. It would leave Simon shaking, but he still stumbled his way back to bed after protecting Tommy. He was still a big brother, with a duty- he had to do this.

As shitty as it was, Simon used every possible thing to keep himself big. Pain was a thing he didn't want to admit to using. If there was blood, he could stay big... And as an older teen at that point, he knew it was stupid. But he reminded himself he was doing it for Tommy whenever a new cut was opened on his arm. The blood kept him on edge. Gave him something to look at to keep steady.

He couldn't drop, not when he was actively in danger of everything and everyone. When Tommy wasn't high, he didn't even trust him then. A hug, a small chat, a few nods. Small things. Simon could see that Tommy was relieved that he wasn't small, even though it was all he needed.

If he could just drop... Have someone to look after him, tell him it was okay- He needed to be okay. For everyone. He had to. All of it fell on his shoulders, aside from work, that was his mother's thing. One less task for Simon. Needles were put in a hazardous bin he got once he realized it wasn't going to stop. He took care of groceries and meals... Even if he wanted his horrible father to starve for what he was doing. Ruining Tommy and risking all of their lives.

But that was years ago. In a way, he still held that resentment, but when he showed up a few days before Christmas and saw his nephew, it didn't feel so bad anymore. Even with tons and tons of new scars and emotional damage, thanks Roba, he clicked into place with the family again. Tommy's wife was really the sweetest woman he'd ever met, and their son, Joseph, god words couldn't contain it.

Simon spent a lot of time playing with Joseph that evening. And since they were all staying in the Riley house, it made it a whole hell of a lot easier to settle down.

He didn't wake up to bloodshed. He didn't wake up to see the family massacred in the living room. No. For the first time, he woke up absolutely tiny in his little bothers arms. His little legs kicked a little under the familiar touch. Without opening his eyes, he knew. Tommy held him again- took care of him.

Simon melted into his brother's care. Soft coos had him smiling as his eyes opened to peer up at Tommy.

"I missed this... look how adorable you are!" Tommy would praise him, tickling his side for a moment before he lightly bounced him and held him on his chest. It was all sweet, home in his brother's arms. With their dad far far away in a hospital Simon didn't care to remember the name of.

If he could deny being cute, he would, but Simon could only babble and whine in response, only getting a laugh and a kiss on the forehead in return.

Simon was attached at Tommy's hip the whole day, being held warmly in his arms or rested next to him- he wasn't ever far. He even let Beth, his wife, hold him for a few minutes before fussing. Joseph, however, got taught all about the little classification and how uncle Simon needed to be small to be happy n healthy! He got to hold Simon for all of a minute before he got nervous and Tommy took him back.

But this was family, somewhere happy- It was a good Christmas time. Perfect holiday season. Having everyone, excluding their dad, close. And the new addition of Joseph and Beth were certainly welcomed. Simon was there that night and protected his family, no one died. And he was rewarded with being able to be small all day. He got all the love he desperately craved from people he liked being around.

[clonemando]

Waxer*Boil Month Week 1: Hobbies

In order to better prepare the clones for their new lives as civilians, Commander Fox got support from different senators and artists to put on a hobby convention. Waxer and Boil attend to try to figure out what works best for them and make a few new friends along the way.

Written for @waxerboilmonth and posted on AO3 here.

(image is public domain from pixabay)

Boil clenched his hands as he stepped into the auditorium, looking around for the exits and potential escapes first as Waxer dragged him along toward the refreshment table that had been set up against the back wall. He knew he was being difficult, but even if the majority of the room was filled with the familiar chatter of clones, there were enough natborns there to set him on edge. He blinked at Waxer when a cup was shoved into his hands, forcing him to release some of the tension that had been building. 

“You’ll like this caff. Cody told me that Senators Chuchi, Amidala and Organa were really kind to sponsor this event for us and that the caff is Alderaani. There are cookies from Pantora and the little sweets are from Naboo. They all also pitched in for the supplies we’ll be using and got all the people who will be leading the different exhibits to come,” Waxer explained with a little smile that helped ease a little more tension away. 

Boil didn’t like crowds. He trusted Waxer and the other brothers present would do the right thing in case of an emergency, but it felt wrong to not be in proper lines and the lack of order twisted his stomach with stress. Announcements and events on Kamino were never this chaotic. 

He tried to focus on the back of Waxer’s head as his best friend led the way toward some well positioned seats that gave them a good view of the stage as well as easy access to an exit. “What exactly are we doing here again?” he asked and Waxer turned back to grin at him.

“The flier I got from Hound said it was a Hobby Expo. We start off here to get instructions and more detailed information on the exhibit halls and then, once the talking is done, we’ll be able to go walk around different stands where different people will be sharing how to do different activities. I asked Cody about it once I saw Fox was the one who came up with the idea, and he said that Fox likes to do some weird craft where you tie a bunch of knots together and you can make blankets out of it. Plus, a lot of the Guard wanted to learn, and I guess many of the activities can be used to sell things and earn credits? So it could give some brothers who don’t know what they want to do now the war is over some sort of idea for a job,” he said with a shrug and settled down with his own cup of caff. Boil settled beside him to wait for everything to begin. 

Eventually, a voice announced that they were going to start and for anyone still standing to find their seats, and Fox actually walked out onto the stage to give everyone the rundown on the event. He went into more detail, but it was mostly like Waxer had said. The activities and vendors were all situated in different rooms based on what planet they were most popular on, and maps would be available at tables all over to help everyone navigate. 

There were also food stalls throughout, and the Guard would be available if anyone needed help. The point, it seemed, was that many clones would soon be moving to new planets and homes. Fox had thought that it was wise to give them all a source of information on what sort of things were popular to do in those new homes and what to expect once they got there, rather than just having everyone tossed out blind. Many senators (particularly the ones who helped pass the Clones Rights act in the first place) agreed. 

Once the announcements were done, Boil and Waxer tossed their empty caff containers in a bin and got their maps from a helpful Guard shiny who was handing them out by the doors to the hall. 

“We should go to the Ryloth rooms! We can learn what sort of things Numa might like and maybe even make something for her!” Waxer suggested while rocking on his heels, looking like he was ready to sprint his way across the building already. 

Boil put a hand on his shoulder to keep him in place, “We have all day, we should probably start with the Galaxy Favorites hall and work our way around. That one is apparently showing things that many worlds have in common, so it would be the most helpful to learn even if we are planning on eventually going to Ryloth,” he offered and felt a little bad that it stole a little of Waxer’s enthusiasm.

Waxer’s nose scrunched up a little as he thought for a moment before nodding,“You’re right. We can save Ryloth for last so we can spend the most time there before we leave,” he suggested, and Boil nodded, fine with that plan. 

With their course decided, they started making their way through the crowds of brothers who were likewise discussing the best choices for themselves to enter the hall marked Galaxy Favorites. Inside there were stalls set up in rows, many of which had seats and signs explaining what they were showing off, and most had a little shop stall beside them offering materials that could be bought if someone liked the activity. That way, they had what they needed to do the craft at home. Waxer immediately dragged him to a booth that had a fuzzy harnessed creature bouncing around its owner’s legs to try to greet everyone who came close enough. 

“Hello! This is Sparky, she’s a tribble, please don’t mind her, she’s friendly. Do you want to learn how to needle-felt today?” the Pantoran running the booth asked them. Boil’s lips twitched up knowing that Waxer had just wanted to pet the extremely fuzzy creature more than anything else. 

Realizing she was talking to them Waxer looked up from making friends with the living fluff-ball, “Sure… what is needle felting? Is it, like, a medical thing?” he asked. The woman laughed a little while shaking her head but showed them some items she had made with the technique and explained how it worked. Other clones had stopped to join in and listen. Finally, all of them were set up at several rows of tables with little packets that would allow them to try making a simple project. 

Boil liked the repetitive motions of stabbing the needles into the wisps of fluff. He didn’t mind that it was something that seemed to take a good amount of time if you wanted things clean looking and smooth. 

Waxer quickly got frustrated when his needles kept breaking and he clearly felt bad for using the extras provided when not everyone seemed to be having the same trouble as him. 

“I don’t think this activity is right for us, but thank you for letting us try,” Boil told the woman kindly while Waxer cheered up since he got to pet the tribble again. 

She waved off their apology “That’s alright, keep the little kit in case you ever want to try again. Thank you for stopping by!” she said, and they started walking to find what they wanted to try next. 

The tie-dye booth was very popular, so they tried that one and got some new shirts out of it, but Boil didn’t really see that as something they’d use often. He wasn’t surprised that many of the booths that offered different forms of painting were all flooded with interested clones since that was one of the things they did all get to have some sort of experience in. 

They ran into Fox himself at the next booth they went to. Boil ended up enjoying crochet a lot more than he had expected. Enough so that, when Fox pointed out he could make Waxer hats to cover his cold ears and head, Boil did buy some hooks and a few balls of yarn to take with him. 

When they finally got to the Ryloth section, they both were already carrying a few bags. They stopped to try some of the food being offered first and to wave down one of the droids that were available to take their purchases to be delivered to the apartments – where most of the clones were currently being housed – so they didn’t have to keep carrying so much around.

Now empty armed and fed, they started to go through the booths about the planet they wanted to return to with a renewed energy. They started at a booth that was about the different colors and types of clay that could be found on Ryloth and how they were best used to make jewelry or pottery. 

Waxer sat down at the station there determined to make a mug that was shaped like his bucket while Boil decided to use the opportunity to make something a little more practical. He focused on the steps offered to make a few plates they’d be able to eat off once glazed and baked. 

Rika, the Twi’lek in charge of the booth, was happy to help them both and chat about their plans. Boil blushed when she cooed over Waxer’s admission that they wanted to find Numa again. 

Brightening she had them stay put for a moment while she vanished behind her booth “Hold on, I have something for you!” she squeaked before returning with a box containing a turquoise dish set that was carefully set in cloth to keep everything safe from breaking. 

“On Ryloth it’s common to give friends gifts when they move to a new home to help welcome them. Dishes and other items that will help make their first days in the new home easier are the most common. I hope you find your little sister again and find a good home once you move,” she explained and didn’t give them a choice as the set was placed in Waxer’s arms. 

Boil felt as flustered as Waxer looked as they accepted the gift and Rika promised to send their projects to their apartment once they had been fired. 

The rest of the booths were also very helpful, teaching them about some of the livestock and what sort of things could be made from different leathers or some of the plants on Ryloth and which were good for dyes for painting and how others were used to make clothing.

Boil was surprised that so many people were happy to help them and excited to share their culture and home so easily. It left him feeling warm and bright, even if he felt like he had just run back to back campaigns at the same time. 

By the time they made it to the end, their arms were even more loaded with materials and gifts and more than a few com codes from the people running the booths who wanted updates on if they found Numa and offers of help with their Ryl if they needed it.

Waxer was even dragging his feet at this point, “I might sleep for a month after this. I think more was stuffed into my brain than when we went through flash training,” he whined as they finally got out of the building and hailed a taxi to go back to their apartment. 

“It was actually really fun though. You were right about coming here,” Boil offered.

Waxer beamed, “Of course I was. I’m always right,” He laughed and bumped their arms together the same way they’d normally tap vambraces. 

Getting into the cab, Boil felt for the first time fully hopeful for their chances in their new lives. If even half the people of Ryloth were as kind as the people they had met here, things wouldn’t be nearly as difficult as he had imagined, and they would have help if they needed it. They would finally have a home.