i might do an up close of him

From 27th November to December 3rd, it is Mordin Solus Appreciation Week! Mordin is Shepard’s only Salarian squadmate across the trilogy, and he certainly makes an impression. Kelly calls him a “hamster on coffee” and Jack memorably says they should have just let Mordin talk the Collectors to death.

A couple of ground rules:

  • This is an appreciation week – therefore positivity is a must!
  • no Genophage Cure Discourse. If someone chose to save Mordin and you let him sacrifice himself to cure it, then live and let live.
  • be polite and courteous, and make sure to tag any appropriate triggers so that I might be able to do the same. 
  • have fun!

Any content is welcome, from gifsets and graphics, fic and meta (be sure to use the read more function if it’s particularly long), fanmixes and art; it can even just be a post on why you love him – if it’s Mordin-centric, I want to see it. If you’re stuck for ideas, I’ve come up with some prompts to help you.

November 27th: Scientist Salarian

 What do you think Mordin’s personal life is like, with his multitude of relatives? Chaotic or close-knit? Alternatively, come talk to me about why you love Mordin!

November 28th: “Never See Me Coming”

Before joining Shepard’s team and the quarantine on Omega, Mordin was part of the Salarian Special Tasks Group. What sort of things do you think he worked on beyond the Genophage? Do you want to explore his relationship with other officers like Major Kirrahe? Go right ahead.

November 29th: Omega

We first encounter Mordin in the Omega slums trying to cure a plague. Today’s prompt is all about his work on Omega. What do you think made him want to cure the plague? This might also be an opportunity to think about his history (whatever that might be) with Aria.

November 30th: Normandy SR2 and the Suicide Mission

Recruited as one of the crew to take on the Collectors, Mordin is such an integral part of the crew of the Normandy SR2. Who do you think Mordin would have a friendship with out of the crew? Rivalries? Are he and your Shepard close? Anything about his relationships with any of the SR2 crew goes!

December 1st: “Somebody Else Might Have Gotten It Wrong”

“Had to be me. Somebody else might have gotten it wrong” is one of the most heart-breaking lines in the trilogy. Whether you saved him or he sacrificed himself to cure the Genophage, today’s focus is Mordin’s legacy. How do you think he would be remembered by everyone, or if he’s still alive for you, what is he doing after the Reaper war?

December 2nd: Other Projects

He’s done Gilbert and Sullivan productions; presented on Science Fun Today; and narrated a noir story that claims he broke Omega’s one rule…in more ways than one. Today’s a light-hearted look at his other projects – want to write Mordin-in-a-Noir-AU? Or draw him dressed as a Gilbert and Sullivan character? This is the day for you.

December 3rd: Free Choice

Is there anything else that’s been missed out? Today is a free choice.

I will be tracking the tag #mordinweek – so please use this tag, or you can submit to this blog directly. Alternatively you can tag either @mordinweek  or my personal over at @verakeys in your posts so I can definitely see it. Please tag your content accordingly so I can catch any triggers.

After this week of Mordin goodness, it will be Garrus Week, hosted by @kestrelsansjesses over at @bestshotonthecitadel, running from December 4th – 10th.

anonymous asked:

do you think about how if misha didnt stay on the show, he wouldnt have been close friends with jensen and jensen might've not been as outgoing as he is today. not saying that jensen couldn't have done this without him but honestly he would still kinda be in his little bubble. i think the minute misha did something so out of the blue and not what hes used to... something sparked in him for the better. what im saying is misha was probably a big part in his growth on opening up to us

That…has never really crossed my mind holy…shit? You’re totally right though, without Misha or even if he left Spn early…everything wouldn’t be the same. I’m not sure if cons would be the same without him. Jared’s right, Misha influences everyone lol. 

I’m not sure if it would’ve been the same if it were someone different than Misha who joined Spn in S4. He literally…is a ray of sunshine. Not only did he help the growth and stability of the show but he also helped the cast….his….friends, family 

There is just something about Misha that just brings people together…I don’t know its indescribable 

anonymous asked:

How are you feeling about Viktor continuing to coach and compete? And what’s it like to have Yuuri at the rink?

How do I feel about Viktor continuing to coach and compete…

I know I said some terrible things after he first left, but I really think he has grown up and learned a lot. However, I am worried that he might be stretching himself too thin. I will be watching him closely to make sure he remembers to take care of himself as well.

Originally posted by viktrnikifrov

Having Yuuri at the rink is a joy, but I will deny it if anyone asks. He always shows up on time, and he tries his best to keep everyone focused on skating, instead of making me want to pull my hair out.

Imagine your boss, Dean Winchester, flirting with you every time he can.

“And last but far from least-” you let a small sigh, looking at the door in case someone was coming “Mr Fury asked to see you.”

“Fury? As in Nick Fury?” Dean raised and eyebrow, his interest peaking.

“Exactly. It either has to do with the damage you and Mr Stark caused on your small trip around town or-”

Dean chuckled, leaning back in his chair “Come on (Y/n), we were drunk!”

“That does not justify it. On the contrary, it was reckless to go take his suits while being drunk.” you said with a pointed look and his smile turned into a softer one.

“You know-” he leaned forward so that he was closer to you “I love it when you care so much about me.”

“Mr Winchester.” you scolded softly, not meeting his eyes but still unable to hide a small smile from your face.

“I thought that by now we had agreed on that, sweetheart. It’s Dean.” he said, sounding a little disappointed.

“You know that can’t happen, Mr Winchester.” you mumbled, starting to place all of his files in place. Anything to keep you occupied from looking him in the eyes “I’m your assistant.”

“Well then we can arrange that. I could always fire you.” he gave you a cheeky grin as with wide eyes your head snapped to him.

“What?” you stood there frozen for a second until he started laughing at your expression.

“Just kidding. There’s no way on Earth I would fire my most trusted worker.” he shook his head “Besides, this enterprises would crumble down without you here to be honest.”

“Glad you appreciate my job then, Mr Winchester.” you chuckled with a small sigh of relief, shaking your head at your boss.

He rolled his eyes for a moment “That’s just not going to go away easily, is it?” he huffed, almost disappointed and you bit the inside of your cheek; still not looking at him.

“Wish it could.” you mumbled and saw him from the corner of your eye get up and walk towards you.

“You know it can-” you almost jumped at how close he had gotten without you realizing it, his breath only fanning over your cheek and his hand on your back “It’s all up to you.”

“Mr Winchester please-” you glanced at the door nervously “Someone might walk in. I just- I don’t want them to think I am taking advantage of-”

“Of who? Me? Sweetheart by all means, do so.” he gave you a boyish grin and you couldn’t stop a chuckle at his words, shaking your head.

“No. Of the time I spend with you. I- I worked hard to get this position.”

“I know, I saw it for myself.” he frowned slightly “That’s why you got the promotion.”

“Yeah, well if they see us like this they’re not going to think exactly that Mr Winchester. I don’t want people to assume I am here because I am sleeping with my boss.” you placed a hand on his chest, regretting it but still pushing him away. You couldn’t even dare look him in the eyes, you couldn’t take the heartbroken look on his face.

“But they don’t have to see us, if that’s the problem.” he suggested after a long pause and you frowned.

“What?”

“I mean if that’s what you’re most scared of- we don’t really have to tell everyone. Let them find out on our wedding day.” he added with a wink and you couldn’t help but giggle at him.

“Mr Winchester-” you started with a small whine but you knew you didn’t have an excuse good enough. Honestly you were mostly trying to convince yourself that you couldn’t be with him than him in the first place. Besides, it was your own feelings you had been battling with mostly these days than your boss’s advances and flirty remarks.

“Come on, just give me a chance. You’ll see I’m not that bad!” he threw his arms in the air and you bit your lip.

“Mr-” you stopped yourself “Dean, I know you’re not.” you confessed looking him in the eyes “And I know that if the circumstances were different- I wouldn’t have hesitated for a second. Especially after such a surprise.” you added with a chuckle and he grinned.

“You like them?” he remembered the flowers he had sent to your apartment. One of his many attempts in getting you “Took my brother’s advice in it.”

“The flowers were amazing, really.” you admitted “But I was mostly referring to the sweets, especially the pie.”

“Well, that one was my idea actually.” he confessed, full of pride and you giggled.

“Oh I bet!” you shook your head with a laugh.

“Say-” he spoke up, a hand again being placed on your back “How about I take you out… for pie and burgers and we can make a fresh start?”

“Dean” you sighed “You’re not going to give up, are you?”

“Hell to no.” he confessed.

“May I ask you- why are you so interested in me? Up until a few months ago I was just one of the secretaries until I became your personal assistant. But still- nothing more.” you dared look him in the eyes, only to see confusion written all over his face.

“I think we’ve made it clear that you got this position because you are the only one that actually puts effort into their work. Plus, you’re the only one that knows me so well and doesn’t dress up on purpose to show off and turn me on.” he shrugged, before pressing you close to him “That happens either way.” he added and you rolled your eyes at his cheekiness.

“I’m only wearing a white blouse and pencil shirt.” you mumbled.

“As I said- too fucking hot.” he growled almost in your ear and for the first time you let him kiss your cheek without you pushing him away.

“Dean” the way his name left your lips was definitely something you weren’t planning on.

Dean grinned widely “See? Already getting there-” he licked his lips “Do you really want to know why I am so interested in you?” he said in a low rough voice “Because you’re special. Because every morning you have walked in my office, hair a mess, no make up on and clothes a little a little wrinkled with a few buttons undone-” he paused for a moment, his eyes roaming your body “I can only think of how gorgeous you look, and how I’d love to see this sight every fucking morning. Especially after an intense night of-” he paused grinning up at you, only to see a hint of red on your cheeks.

“Gosh I would so love that.” he breathed out huskily, his breath tingling your lips as his face stood only a few inches away from yours.

“I’m- I’m not that-”

“I swear to god, if you complete that sentence I am just going to grab you and prove you wrong right here and now in any way you can imagine.” he said with a slight growl and you swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling yourself shiver when his hands started traveling. You couldn’t deny you liked it a little too much.

“Do you even know the things you do to me when you lean over my desk?” he whispered, resting his forehead on the side of your head; his lips brushing past your ear “With those tight, black skirts. I’ve had such a fucking hard time concentrating during meetings just because of you. You don’t even have to touch me, hell not even say something and I know I am a goner. I can’t think straight when you are in the same room. And gosh, you’re not even doing it on purpose. You’re so clueless.” he grinned “So adorably clueless.”

“Mr Winchester” you whispered, fisting his suit jacket in your hand.

“And the way you say that- I hated it so much at first, it felt like you put a wall between us. I still do but at the same time-it sounds so innocent, so unintentional that you can’t realize how cute and hot it sounds at the same time.” he chuckled and you bit your lip.

“And as if all of that is not enough you- you are such an amazing woman. You actually listen to me when I need it, you try to understand me and you- you love rock too. You listen to me ramble about my car when my own brother always tries to make me shut up when I do. You actually know so much about me, every side of me, that no other woman I’ve been with has ever known. And that’s only because you are the one interested.”

“I can’t help it you know.” you whispered, looking at him through your eyelashes.

“I know. Trust me baby, I know.” he breathed out, cupping your face and before you had the time to react he crashed his lips to yours.

Understanding Dean

I wanted to talk more about all the Dean and Cas moments in 13x06. I was so busy flailing like a lunatic last night, and while I mentioned it briefly in my watch notes, I do think these moments of intimacy between them are telling of a bigger picture and worth examining more closely.

Look at just how much insight Cas has into how Dean works…

When Jack mentions Dodge City, Dean gets that dopey, bashful look on his face whenever he wants something badly. And it’s Cas that gives him a pointed and knowing look in return. 

It’s intentional, and our gaze is deliberately draw first to Dean, and then Cas’s reaction. Not Sam’s, who by all accounts in canon, has precisely the same amount of exposure to Dean and cowboys in 6x18. All flailing about the unwritten implications aside (okay not completely aside, because just think for a minute about how Cas has come to know this as intimately as he does), Cas knows inherently that this is something that gets Dean excited. And later, when Jack looks on in incredulity at Dean’s unabashed fanboying over the motel room and the old cowboys…

Jack: He really likes cowboys.
Cas: Yes, yes he does. 

I have trouble reading Cas’s line here as anything other than long-suffering. In my eyes, he’s framed as a long-suffering spouse who’s put up with this reluctantly, but lovingly, for what feels like forever. But whether you read their exchange as something more intimate, or just as a long-suffering friend, it’s still long-suffering. As in, Cas has had to bear witness to Dean’s cowboy obsession time and time and time again. We only know of one other instance in canon where Dean has had this particular kink on display: 6x18′s Frontierland. I’ll grant you Cas is a drama queen, but Frontierland on its own is just not enough to warrant this level of exasperation in Cas, because it was Sam who went back in time with Dean then and bore the brunt of Dean’s enthusiasm for the Wild West. 

Next, Cas knows that Dean is an angry sleeper. And okay, I’m not setting the flailing aside on this one, because JUST HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT, CAS? HMMM? We know canonically that Cas has a history of watching Dean sleep. We now know that he has a history of waking him up as well, and Cas knows how to do that in a way that is gentle and soft enough not to wake the sleeping bear as well. I would very much like to see precisely how Cas wakes Dean up.

And the coffee? That whole scene was so delightfully domestic. You get the sense that this is a ritual– a daily routine that they go through.  I adore the silent, wordless exchange between them and Cas just plunking himself down in resignation. Communication without words requires intimacy and familiarity with someone else, and we’re seeing that in spades here. 

When they split up to tackle the case, I love that it’s Sam who splits them the way that he does: Jack will stay with Sam, and Cas will go with Dean. It’s not necessarily the most logical choice, and it would have made arguably more sense for Cas to go with Jack.  I like to think that Sam is acknowledging that his brother and Cas need some space alone. 

Which leads me to my final point. Just as moments within an episode can’t stand alone and must be taken in context, so too should we look at the overall season arc and the choices that are made to put episodes where they are in chronology. 13x06 falls right after the episode in which Sam is trying is absolute, adorable best to cheer Dean up, but he’s doing it in all the wrong ways. I’m not saying that Sam doesn’t understand Dean, because he’s absolutely close with Dean and has to know things about him that others don’t because of their close proximity all their lives. But I feel like they’re making it glaringly obvious over the course of the past few episodes that Sam doesn’t relate to Dean in the way that Cas does, and contrary to whatever bullshit Dean might spew, Cas is not his brother

Sam’s insight into Dean (at least in the previous few episodes, and he certainly has a history of this in the past too) is well-intentioned and loving, but misguided. Frankly, I blame Dean for that because of how carefully he’s kept Sam from truly seeing him. The contrast between Cas and Sam and how they both relate to Dean is fascinating. Sam seeing the sanitized, performing Dean facade, whereas Cas sees beneath it. 

I’ve wavered in the past between “Sam knows” and “Sam is an oblivious moose.” I’m beginning to lean more in the direction of oblivious moose, not necessarily because that’s where I think Sam’s at, but because that seems to be the direction the writers are taking him in– as a stand-in for casual viewers and the lens through which we see the dynamic between Cas and Dean.

Tease (M)

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: one shot, angst, fluff and a little bit of smut

Word Count: 3,298

Request: for @shesdreaminginoverdose :  Hi author-nim can I request 33 with Baekhyun fluff and a bit smut (*´艸`*) 

Summary: (33- “Bite me” “If you insist.”) Ever since you moved next door to Baekhyun, you have been the victim of his teasing and you had enough. 

A/N: Hey everyone, this is my first one shot from the prompt list I posted a couple days ago. I will try to post the other requests soon (btw I didn’t proofread so sorry if there are any mistakes). Enjoy!

Part 1, Part 2

Originally posted by littlebyuns


You run into school late, your hair everywhere and your breathing rigid. It’s your first time being late, your alarm clock not ringing for some reason.

Thankfully, you get to class before the teacher arrived. You walk into the chaotic classroom full of rowdy students talking, laughing, and throwing things around. You walk to your seat in the front of the classroom, planning on just studying when suddenly a body steps in front of you.

“Hey Y/N,” smirks Baekhyun.

You roll your eyes, not wanting to deal with him so early in the morning. “Move Baekhyun.”

Keep reading

Imagine You Won a Cruise in Space

Part 1

You couldn’t believe how lucky you had been! Only six people had been selected in the whole country and you got to be one of them! An interstellar alliance had recently made contact with Earth and offered six lucky people - randomly drawn, of course - the chance for a year long cruise through the galaxy.

You were greeted on the ship and led to a cozy room with soft carpet and cushy chairs to sit in. You had been the first to arrive, but the other winners had quickly followed. As the six of you - three men and three women - sat and chatted excitedly amongst yourselves, you couldn’t believe how swanky this ship was. Especially given it had been designed by other species. Soon, a human-looking man in a suit greeted you all.

“Welcome!” he chirped, with an enormous grin on his face. “We’re beginning takeoff as I speak, but you shouldn’t feel any turbulence. And don’t worry, this ship is the safest the alliance has to offer. And, of course, you will all be well taken care of during your stay on this ship with your new mates!”

“Mates?!” all six of you cried.

“Why, of course,” he stated, as if it were obvious. “Didn’t anyone tell you?”

“Well, it’s only for a year, right?” one of the other women offered hopefully.

“Absolutely not,” your host retorted, sounding almost offended. “All of the species you’ve been paired with mate for life. As I understand it, you humans are monogamous, are you not?”

“Sometimes,” one of the men snorted with a smirk.

Another man appeared confused. “But how could we mate with different species? Obviously there will be no offspring.”

The host rolled his eyes. “You humans are so behind, technologically. We are more than capable of making all of you compatible with your new mates.”

“Aren’t you human?” you asked.

“No,” he replied patiently. “I’m a shape-shifter. And you’re all very lucky none of you are going to be impregnated by my species. Our females are pregnant for five years,” he informed them with a smirk. “Obviously all of you will carry your young for different lengths of time, though. Two of you will be assigned to each species, but even if you have the same species, there will be variance in the lengths of time you each carry the young.”

“Each?!” the three men cried.

“We’re not getting pregnant, right?” a small, pale man asked.

“You most certainly are,” the shape-shifter corrected. He received a ping on a device and a large smile split onto his face. “Okay, each of your mates is prepped in a room for all of you, so after your physical, you can go straight to them.”

You were then ushered off into an examination room as you were thoroughly examined - particularly in your child-bearing abilities. Just when you thought all the poking and prodding was over, you were given multiple injections all over from your neck to your uterus. At first you didn’t feel anything but after a few moments you began to feel…strange.

“Don’t worry, honey,” the nurse - who was a reptilian species - told you in an attempt to be comforting. “Molzon hormones tend to make you feel a little funny, but you’re just fine.”

As she lead you to where your ‘mate’ awaited, you asked her, “What’s a Molzon?”

“Oh, they’re amphibious,” she drawled. “If I’ve read my human folklore correctly, then they’re kind of like your mermaids. Except: instead of a fish tail, they have tentacles as their lower half. You seem like a sweet girl, so I’m sure you and him will get along just fine.”

She stared expectantly at you as you stood outside the door. Feeling as though you were going to throw up from a combination of nervousness and Molzon hormones, you opened the door.

Inside, you saw him and he was close to what the nurse had described. He was a sort of octopus merman with blue-green skin that was shifting color slightly. However, unlike the mermen conjured in your imagination, he a little thick around the middle. It almost looked a little like a beer belly. He noticed you come in and his eyes grew wide as he blushed. “Oh, hi!” His voice cracked nervously. “I thought you might want to have some dinner, first. That’s what humans do, right?”

He appeared unsure as to whether or not what he’d done was appropriate, so you nodded silently as he lead you to a candlelit table - like something you’d see at a fancy restaurant.

You knew you were staring, but you couldn’t really help it. After all, he was an alien species. He appeared to have very little difficulty walking above water with his tentacles and because his tentacles were so long, he was about seven feet tall.

The dinner went surprisingly well, given the circumstances and Zeri, that was his name, was actually a total sweetheart. He enjoyed puzzles and playing musical instruments, and reading. The nerdy Molzon would have been exactly your type…had he been human.

“This isn’t fair to you,” he stuttered after dinner. “I know a female of my species would be much better suited-” But he cut himself off with a slight groan before stuttering out, “Did they give you the hormones, already?”

“Yeah,” you squeaked back.

He began massaging his belly and whimpering. “I’m so sorry,” he cried, before gently pulling you into an adjoining room that had a large, marine pool. He gently removed your clothes and eased you into the pool, before doubling over and moaning in pain, clutching his belly again. Then, as he lowered himself into the pool, he began panting and moaning a little as he tried to explain. “The pheromones…ghhnnng…they make me….hoo hoo hoo….I can’t stop….gaaah!” he gave a sharp cry, continuing to rub his belly, which appeared to be…clenching? “I have to mate.”

Then, he let out a monumental groan before pulling you to the middle of the pool, careful to keep your head above water. You felt something begin to prod around your vagina before unceremoniously entering. You gave a pained cry, causing Zeri to flinch, but he didn’t stop and you felt the appendage slide far up into you, past your cervix, and enter your uterus.

You were trembling from the pain and Zeri continued to stutter out apologies as his eyes watered from the great deal of pain he was obviously in, too. His tentacles held you in place as his human arms wrapped around his middle and he let out something between a groan and a grunt. “Hnnngggg.” His face slackened a little in relief as you saw a large object come out of his body, slowly begin traveling up the appendage he had inserted inside you before it, too, began prodding at your entrance.

“Zeri,” you cried in a panic.

“I’m so sorry.”

The object forced its way into your vagina, eliciting a scream of pain from you as it traveled slowly up to deposit itself in your uterus. The result was a slightly distended belly, while Zeri’s belly looked slightly smaller.

He moaned again, grunting and crying as another came out of him to force its way into you again.

This process continued for the better part of two hours and you were now HUGE - filled with eight of the damn things.

“This is…the last…one,” Zeri huffed, having difficulty breathing from all the effort exerted on his part. He continued uttering apologies as he began to expel the final egg. But this one took a lot longer than the others. “Ggghhh,” he grunted after twenty minutes, before giving out a startling cry as the egg left his body.

As you saw it traveling towards you, you found out why he’d had so much difficulty. The eggs, which had all been about the size of an elephant bird egg, paled in comparison to this one, which was almost twice as big as the others. “No, no, no, no, no,” you bawled, as it inched closer. “Please, no,” you sobbed as it began to make contact with your already sore pussy. But of course, it went in, anyway. You thought for sure you would be ripped in half and die as the ninth one was shoved in, but it made it into your uterus, just as the others did.

“One final part,” he promised.

A liquid began to pump out of his appendage and fill you. Your belly, once misshapen due to the lumpy eggs, began to smooth out and expand even further. You gasped and wheezed through the next few minutes as you were pumped with the fluid.

Then, it was finally over. Zeri, as sweaty as he was, and as much as he panted, helped you out of the water, though his tentacles were far from steady. It was difficult for you to stay upright since you felt as though you’d gained over 100 pounds since entering the water and, looking at your girth, that was definitely possible. You couldn’t wrap your arms entirely around your belly and there was about five or six inches between your fingertips when you tried. “I’m sure your exhausted,” he huffed, trying to keep both of you upright. “I’ll take you to your room.”

Your room was luxurious to say the least. You wanted to shower, but decided against it and just collapsed onto the bed, naked.

“I’ll arrange for some clothes to be brought for you tomorrow that should fit.” He had the biggest look of guilt you’d ever seen. “I’m so sorry,” he cried again, before leaving you alone.

You covered yourself with blankets, painfully aware of your newly distended belly. It was impossible to get comfortable with how angry the stretched skin felt and the extra weight, but you tried to sleep nonetheless. As Zeri had suspected, you were indeed exhausted.

The final thought that popped into your head as you drifted off was: how long will I be like this?

To be continued…

so i was thinking how much people seemed to overlook Lance listening to music in season 1 may or may not be because i always do the same and then this popped out. This takes place sometime during season two. (WC: 1208)


Keith lays down in bed, curling himself against Lance’s side, who is putting on Pidge’s headphones. He breathes in, relishing in the scent of pure Lance

They’re in “Lance’s” room, but in all honesty, it’s both of theirs. Their clothes are both here, they both sleep here, they both brush their teeth and shower here. It’s theirs, and that little word change has never made his heart flutter so often.

But there’s only one thing that Keith is really thinking about. The one thing he always thinks about before they go to bed.

“Hey, Lance?” says Keith, wrapping an arm around Lance’s bare waist.

Lance pauses mid-motion. “Yeah?”

“Why do you always wear those in bed?” asks Keith. He lifts his head, resting his chin on Lance’s chest to face him.

Keep reading

2

Sam

As much as you wanted your brothers to stay with you in the Bunker you told them to go. Those victims and to be victims needed Hunters to take the case before anything got worse. These people were dying. You were fine…weren’t you?

Sam and Dean knew you struggled with mental health issues, which is why they were reluctant to leave you, but you promised them you’d be fine. How could you be fine? 

Your breathing was deep and heavy as you reached for your phone. It didn’t take long for him to pick up: “Y/N?” Sam’s worried voice was supposed to fill you with relief, but instantly guilt washed over. “Hey Sweetheart, you okay?” He spoke much more quickly this time.
“Yeah I’m fine…uh…” You tried to think of a reason to call that would convince him you were telling the truth. “I knew we shouldn’t have left you…” He sighed.

“Sammy everything’s fine.”

“Then why are you calling me? Bug, it’s okay to not be okay. I’m proud of you for calling.” His soft loving voice made you well up with tears.
“I just feel so empty.” You whispered, tears trickling down your cheeks.

“Hey shh, it’s okay. You’re gonna be okay I promise.”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “I miss you.” You sobbed, trying your best to hold it in, but ultimately failing.
“I miss you too, love. Dean can handle the case on his own I’m coming back, okay?”
“Are you sure? I’m not worth it, Sammy. There are people’s lives at stake-”
“Don’t put yourself down like that Y/N. You’re just as important and I’m not gonna let you suffer. I’m coming home….Love you, sis.”
“Love you too Sammy, hug De for me?”
“Of course.”


Dean

You didn’t want to wake him but this was important. Creeping down the hallway, your body visibly shaking from crying, you made your way to your brothers room.
You quietly closed the door behind you, your feet padding on the ground as you made your way over to him. He was asleep.

“D-Dean?” You managed, your lip trembling.
Immediately he was awake -Hunters instincts. After his initial panic, he calmed down. But not for long as he noticed your state.

“Y/N?” He got up from his bed and rushed toward your sobbing figure.

“Sweetheart what’s wrong?” He knelt down so he was eye level with you. His gentle hand tucked away a strand of hair behind your ear, his hand lightly resting on your cheek before he held his arms out for you. You collapsed into him, his arms enveloped you in a hug as he held you close.

“Shhh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” He cooed, his arm stroking your hair as you sobbed into his chest.
He knew you struggled with depression, he knew you didn’t need to talk about it sometimes but just a shoulder to cry on. Dean was there for you whatever the need.

He gently led you to his bed where you sat next to him, still clutching on to him for dear life.
He continued to hold you, breathing with you, reassuring you through the occasional whisper and kissing your forehead.
You stayed there for quite some time, even when your sobs died down to sniffles then to nothing.
You remained, your head resting on his chest, the fabric of his flannel shirt a comfort of its own.

“I’m sorry.” You finally said, looking up at him with sad eyes.
“No you don’t have to be sorry, sweet.” He assured you, rubbing your back “Not ever. I’m proud of you, so so proud of you.”
You nodded against him, not wanting to get up from his comfort.

“If you want to talk about anything, me and Sam are always here. Always.”
“Thank you.” You managed a weak smile.
“Come on, you can sleep with me tonight.” He let you go to shuffle up so there was room for you to crawl on. You did, curling back up against him and closing your sore eyes
He wrapped his arms round you protectively, reassuring you he was there. Your soar eyes drooped shut as he held you close and lulled you into a deep sleep.

Requested by @winchesterjackson

Request:
Going ahead with my request XD Okay, I have an ideia. Can you do one with that the reader!sister is feeling down and depressive, and Sam notice that and try to cheer her up. (Fluff, pleaase, like I’ve told you lol)
I thought I might as well do both Sam and Dean Idk I guess this blogs been too Sam-centric recently and as much as we love our Moose Squirell deserves some love haha, Hope you liked it! x

(Tags after cut)

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ifeelbetterer  asked:

Gotg prompt: how did Rocket learn to speak Groot?

“Repeat after me, Quill: I am Groot.”

“I am Groot,” Peter said dutifully. He felt like an idiot, but there were only a limited number of ways to while away quiet nights on the ship when neither of them could sleep. If it was him and Gamora, or him and Drax, they could spar, but he’d only tried sparring with Rocket once. It took weeks for the bite marks to heal.

Rocket’s oddly expressive – for a raccoon – face wrinkled in an expression of disgust. “Do you even hear yourself? That is nothing like what I just said.”

“Dude, that is exactly what you just said.”

“No, I said ‘I am Groot’ and you said ‘I am Groot’.”

“Which is … the same?”

Rocket stared at him for a long moment, then pointed at his snout. “Read my lips: I am Groot.”

“Was I supposed to repeat that, or …”

Rocket showed some teeth. Peter shut up. There was a moment of silence and Peter was just about to put his earbuds back in and quit with the language lessons when Rocket said suddenly, “Quill, if I say, 'I am Groot,’ just like that, what do you hear?”

“Is this a trick question? Especially the kind of trick question that’s gonna end in you pissing on my bed?”

“That was only once, and you had it coming –”

“Rocket –”

“No, for the love o’ cheese, it’s not a trick question. Just say 'I am Groot’.”

“I am Groot,” Peter said. “I feel like a complete jackass right now, in case that was your intent – hey, where are you going?”

“Jus’ need to get a thing!” Rocket’s voice trailed behind him.

Peter flopped back down in the chair in the mess and put his earbuds in. He was actually getting sleepy, and considering going back to bed, when Rocket jumped up onto the table in front of him with something clutched in his paws.

“What’s that?” Peter asked, sitting up. He palmed off the Zune and took off the earpieces. He had to hand it to Earth tech: the new music player was a lot more convenient to carry around than his late, lamented Walkman.

Rocket’s device was a thin, flat screen about the size of a hardback book; he had it clutched with a paw on each side while readouts rippled quickly across it.

“Okay, now say 'I am Groot’,” Rocket declared, studying the screen.

“Come on, man, do we really have to go through this again?”

“Humor me.”

Peter sighed and slouched in his chair. “I am Groot.”

Rocket’s ears pricked forward. “I am Groot,” he said, and tapped the display with his paw, causing the tiny, scrolling lines and numbers to freeze. “Did that sound the same to you?”

“Well … yeah?”

The flat pads of Rocket’s fingers danced across the display, and he laid the screen on the table between them. “Know what you’re lookin’ at?”

“Squiggly lines,” Peter said automatically.

“Did your mama drop you on the head a lot as a baby, Quill?”

“No, but Yondu did occasionally.” Peter rested his elbow on the table and his chin in his hand. As much fun as it was to mess with Rocket, he did actually think he knew what the raccoon was getting at. “That wiggly line is some kind of … uh … noise – wiggle – curve, right?”

“That’s real precise.”

“I was abducted from Earth before we got to algebra in school. Cut me some slack here.”

“Excuses, excuses. I was raised in a cage and my mother had an IQ of 3.” Rocket touched the display, zooming in on it. “Point is, I don’t think it’s just that all a’ you two-legged bunch is too obtuse to understand perfectly clear speech –”

“Thanks.”

“– like I used to think. It’s more like, my ears hear at higher and lower frequencies than yours do, so I get different overtones. Put simply for the simple, I can hear things you can’t.”

Peter leaned forward, intrigued. “So, wait – you mean all this time, all his 'I am Groot’s sound different to you?”

He realized what he’d said as soon as the words left his mouth, and got the flat 'I am dealing with morons’ look from Rocket that he’d instantly realized he had coming. “How am I supposed to understand him if they don’t, Quill, I ask you?”

“Okay – point – but … so why does it sound like 'I am Groot’ to the rest of us?”

“It sounds like 'I am Groot’ to me too.” When Peter glowered at him, Rocket held up a paw. “No, I ain’t messin’ with ya. This time. No, that’s what the translation unit picks up, 'cause it ain’t so smart about some of the less humanoid languages. It’s just, I hear it like …” He hesitated and waggled his paw. “It’s like your music, right? All those up and down tones at the same time. Groot can do that. Your throat, my throat, can’t.”

“Singing?” Peter said after a minute. “Groot’s singing?”

“I refer you back to the part about bein’ dropped on your head.” Rocket pursed his lips and let out a sharp whistle, making Peter jump – there was still some part of him that couldn’t quite hear whistling and not expect a death arrow to follow an instant later. And he might not be the only one, because Rocket stopped abruptly, closed his mouth, and then said, “Quill, do this,” and hummed softly.

It wasn’t really a tune. “You just want me to hum?” Peter asked. “Like, generic humming?”

Rocket curled his lip and the hum became more of a snarl.

“Right, humming,” Peter said hastily.

The funny thing was, the instant his soft hum of response hit the right harmonics with the note Rocket was humming (and the raccoon did have a good sense of pitch; Peter had always suspected so) he understood exactly what Rocket was getting at.

“Ohhhhh. When Groot talks, it’s like a symphony. Is that what you mean? And the 'I am Groot’ part is the part in the human audible range.”

Rocket’s ears and tail went up cheerfully. “Yeah, ezzactly. He’s tryin’ to communicate, it’s just he didn’t get any farther than 'I am Groot’ when he was learning. It’s as hard for him to do the talkin’ part for the translators as it is for you and me to do his kind of talk. He can hear us just fine, though. Actually to him, understanding our talk is dead easy.”

“So how do we understand him?” Peter asked. “Can you, I dunno, juice up the translator so it picks up a higher range of frequencies, or something?”

“I dunno. That’s not a bad idea.” Rocket tapped his claw against his teeth before picking up the screen thing and hopping off the table. “Have to think on it. Don’t wanna explode your heads or anything.”

“Yeah, well, on that lovely note, I’m goin’ to bed.” He actually was tired enough now to fall asleep in spite of the inevitable nightmares (the bitter cold and darkness of space; Ego’s face dissolving in his hands; his friends crushed by rocks or blown apart). The music helped as it always had, a melodic bulwark against the dark, wrapped gently around his heart – but it could only do so much.

Rocket grunted absently as he trotted off, already engrossed in figuring out the problem.

The thought occurred to Peter as he wandered back to his quarters, thumbing idly through the songs on the Zune, that these sorts of mechanical puzzles served the same purpose for Rocket as his music did for him: something to make his mind go quiet.

The music did that … and so did letting Gamora beat the stuffing out of him in the ship’s small exercise area. Or getting language lessons from Rocket. Or –

“I am Groot?”

Peter jumped as small hands grabbed hold of his pants leg. Groot shimmied quickly up to perch on his shoulder.

“Hey, little buddy.” Peter opened the door to his quarters and left it open so Groot could come and go as he wanted. Or so he could hear if anybody got into a fight or whatever. He flopped wearily on his unmade bed, careful not to dislodge Groot. “You know, I’m not sure how much of this you can understand right now, but Rocket’s teaching me to speak your language.”

“I am Groot?”

“Well, to understand you more than speak it, I guess I should say.” He was lying on his back now and he couldn’t really see Groot except out of the corner of his eye, but he could feel the little tree shifting around in the hollow where the collar of his sweatshirt rested against his neck.

“I am Groot,” Groot said insistently, almost in his ear. Small hands patted at the side of his face and his earlobe.

“Yeah, yeah.” Peter pinched one earbud between two fingers and held it where Groot could get at it. The little hands took it out of his fingers. Peter settled himself comfortably as Groot squirmed somewhat ticklishly against his neck, and sorted through the songs. “How 'bout Elton John tonight, buddy?”

“I am Groot,” came the sleepy answer.

“You know, little guy,” Peter murmured, as the first strains of the music began to play and Groot snuggled comfortably against his neck, “whether or not Rocket can get his new gadget working, I think we understand each other just fine, don’t we?”

“I am Groot!”

Lachesism! Lance

sooooo this is something me and @moppingleshitoutofyou came up with a while ago, hope yall enjoy!!

you can check out some of my other mini fics here


Lance didn’t really know when it started. There were too many incidents to pinpoint its exact origins. It could have began when he tried to jump out the window when he was six to prove that he could totally fly Marcos. Or when he was nine and ate a bee when Lily said they were dangerous, because how dangerous can a chubby little bumblebee be? It was like it was always there, this little voice urging him to prove his worth through dangerous tasks.

it wasn’t until he was fifteen when the real trouble began. 

Once again, the origins of the power he was given was unknown to him. He sorta just woke up one day and bam, he felt the emotions of everyone in the house. To say it was overwhelming would be an understatement. He could practically taste his mother’s worry and his sister’s sadness and he just wanted to help them you know? Ease their pain, because no one deserved to feel those emotions. Perhaps it was then that he became aware of the feelings his felt since he was a kid. He had a form of lachesism, or at least that’s what the therapist his parents forced him to go to told him.

It took countless hours of research to figure out what the hell lachesism even was, since it wasn’t something that simply popped up in everyday conversations. And the whole emotions things? Yeah, it took a while to figure out how that fit into this mess. 

In fact, he was still trying to figure it all out when he went to the Garrison, which was yet another mess because he could feel all of the students’ emotions too. His family’s emotions were barely a sliver of what he had to endure every day. There was just, just so much sadness here. It was like a new wave hit him every time he moved, encasing him in this bubble of hurt. It was too much at times, causing him to spiral into anxiety attacks when Hunk was asleep. 

Yet, he thrived in the pain he was forced to endure everyday. Maybe it was the fact he was given this power to know what everyone was feeling, but he finally felt like he was worth something. Who else could stand feeling other’s emotions constantly thrown at them, if they were not at least worth something. Call it middle child syndrome, but Lance finally felt like he could make a difference. He could help these people! All he had to do was try to keep them happy and their sadness would begin to melt away. 

Thus, class-clown Lance was born at the age of 16, who was always there to crack a joke. He learned to talk more to make others feel comfortable and laugh loud enough for everyone to feel included. Finally, Lance felt clarity in his mind for the first time in years, and he was able to truly believe he had worth.

However this only solved the problem for a bit, as smiles can only go so far. Soon the sadness returned, albeit weaker than before, but it was still there. This unsettled Lance more than he thought it would. How could he help now? How could he prove he was more than just a cargo pilot? He was already struggling to keep up with Keith and now this? 

It was when Lance was comforting Hunk after a panic attack did he realize just how far his powers could reach. 

The two had been cuddling when Lance felt this pull, this tug towards Hunk’s emotions that he never felt before. He followed it of course and the feeling was indescribable. It was like he drowning in Hunk’s emotions, each feeling circling around him, urging him to touch, to feel. Shakily, he mentally reached out for the anxiety that kept bubbling up and it was like he sinking in this void of emotions that was endless. It wormed itself inside of Lance until it was gone, residing within him rather than Hunk. It was terrifying.

But Hunk’s smile after it was over, his slight laughter as he stated he felt better than he had in years, made it all worth it.


After being swept up in the whirlwind that was Voltron, Lance knew once again that he had worth. It wasn’t in his shooting capabilities or in his powerful bond with his lion or even in the persona he still continued. No, it was in the way he took away Pidge’s worry and soothed it with reassurance, how he slipped into Shiro’s room at night and removed the terror that plagued him to allow him a decent night of rest, and in the way he harbored Allura and Coran’s homesickness for the world they lost and offered them the feeling of family instead. This was his purpose, his way of showing his worth in subtle ways.

It took a toll on Lance though, the emotions he took away finding a home in his chest, weighing him down. He could feel the anxiety in his fingertips, the fear in his bones, and the never ending sadness in his mind. But it was worth it wasn’t it? He was protecting his teammates from the pain of these awful emotions, keeping up the spirits of Voltron through his pain. It was worth it. 

Blue didn’t think so. She’d often lecture Lance on overdoing it and how it truly wasn’t worth it, but couldn’t she see that it was? By him feeling this, surviving through this, he was able to see Pidge laugh freely and Hunk grow into his role as a paladin. Watch as Keith became more open to the group, his previous doubts now backed up with trust in his team. 

Oh cub, can’t you see how it weighs you down, how it tears you apart? She had asked one morning, specifically after a nasty panic attack. Can’t you see you’re worth more than this? That you’re more than just Lance, that you’re my paladin who doesn’t deserve this? Can’t you see?

But in the grand scheme of things, his wellbeing doesn’t matter, only that Voltron can still form. He was simply helping the process and he would be there for his team no matter what.

Despite this, Lance began to close in on himself. He spent hours upon hours with Blue, strengthening his powers so he could become more. He learned to manipulate the emotions, how to expel them onto others, making them feel the pain he suffered through each and everyday. He still went through his daily cleaning, helping each Paladin in whatever form they needed before heading back to his hangar and remaining there till night. The persona Lance built back at the Garrison had begun to crack, but it was fine because he was becoming stronger right? Now he could truly protect his team. He was no longer an emotional dump. He could send those emotions to whoever he pleased. He had worth.

The team began to get worried, however. They noticed how Lance began to close up, disappearing for hours on end. They knew they had to do something about it, but how?

“Maybe we could corner him?” Keith suggested, shrugging. 

“No, no, he wouldn’t tell us what was wrong if we did that. How about we call him up to the bridge?” Hunk replied, glancing at Shiro, who was pacing. 

“I don’t think that’ll work Hunk, you’ve seen Lance. Our best bet might be to go down to his hangar and speak to him there, the Blue Lion might help back us up,” Shiro sighed, looking down the hallway to where the hangars were,”I know he might freeze up but it’s the only option that gives us the backup of a lion.” 

The team nodded, Hunk simply turning silently, before beginning their dissent towards the hangars, nervousness tickling the back of their necks. It wasn’t long until they all stood before the door of the Blue Lion’s hangar. With a quick glance at the team Shiro was about to open it when it opened on its own silently, shocking the team slightly. Blue hummed quietly in the back of their minds before disappearing, allowing the paladins to enter her hangar. 

Hunk almost fainted at what awaited them, the rest gasping at the sight before them. 

There in the middle of the hangar, sat Lance surrounded by a hurricane of black that swirled faster with each passing second. His eyes were squeezed shut, not seeing the paladins, yet they all felt like he just knew. It was when he opened his eyes that all hell broke loose.


Here’s Part Two !

dean doing soft and quiet things for cas

  • helping him fall asleep by holding him close and rubbing his back and lightly playing with his hair
  • forehead kisses in the morning as a greeting when he’s already up and awake and cas stumbles down the hall in search of coffee
  • building cas a place he can garden outside the bunker, researching things like seeds and soil and what will grow this time of year
  • picking out little trinkets and knick knacks for cas for no reason other than “i dunno, thought you might like it”
  • giving him a foot massage while they lounge on the couch watching a movie, cas’ feet in his lap
  • fixing his car whenever he hears any sort of mysterious clank or rattle, giving her a checkup at least once a month just to make sure everything’s good and she’s running safely
  • grabbing cas’ hand just briefly and lightly whenever they walk past each other, stroking his thumb slightly before letting go
  • dean saying i love you to cas with his every action, and cas knowing dean well enough to hear it

my good friend @lena221b recently reminded me of a series of drabbles i wrote in response to anon asks aaaaages ago. i couldn’t find the original posts (we’re talking years ago, that’s too much scrolling for one mortal girl) so i decided to lump them all together here. the following are a few short snippets of derek and stiles’ life together. in my head they’re all part of the same universe. enjoy!


“I dream about riding you sometimes.”

Derek drops Stiles flat on his face.

Stiles doesn’t seem to notice, just tries to roll himself back over. ‘Tries’ being the operative word, because he somehow manages to get himself tangled in his hoodie and then he’s just struggling on the ground with his head trapped in the sleeve.

Ordinarily Derek would help him, would feel guilty about dropping him in the first place, but right now he’s too preoccupied with choking on his own spit.

Stiles fights his way out of his clothing and gazes up at Derek.

“You’re so big though, I’m not even sure I could get my legs around you.”

Can werewolves go into cardiac arrest? Because it’s happening, Derek’s pretty sure it’s happening.

“And you’re so strong, too. I bet I could just climb up on there and you could keep going for hours.”

Stiles smacks his lips and wiggles on the forest floor and seems completely unconcerned with the way Derek’s world is rearranging itself around him.

“Such a scary wolfy,” Stiles mumbles, eyelashes fluttering. “You’re also really fluffy though.” He reaches out and starts patting Derek’s boot. “Preeeetty.”

Derek steps carefully away from Stiles and smashes his head into the nearest tree. A cut appears on his eyebrow and then heals before he’s even wiped the blood away. Because Stiles is talking about riding Derek in his wolf form. Like he’s some kind of glorified pony. And Derek is so pathetically gone on this boy that he’d let him. He’d growl and snarl and snap his jaws and then he’d get down on his haunches and carry Stiles wherever he wanted to go.

He’s absolutely, definitively not disappointed that Stiles isn’t talking about riding him in his human form because that would be gross and creepy and taking advantage of Stiles’ intoxicated state.

Right, Stiles, who is drunk, and burrowing into a pile of leaves.

Derek sighs at his life and stomps over to pick Stiles up again.

“Whoa, spinny!” Stiles shrieks and clutches at Derek’s collar. When he’s got his feet back under himself he looks around and frowns. “Nooo, no standing, it’s nap time.”

“It’s three o’clock in the morning,” Derek grumbles.

“Which is why it’s nap time,” Stiles insists, like it wasn’t his idea to get smashed in the woods in the middle of the night like an utter moron.

“You can sleep back at the loft, okay?” Derek bargains, wrapping an arm around Stiles’ waist and hauling him forward.

“Mmm your bed,” Stiles groans, stuffing his face into Derek’s neck. “Been trying to get into your bed for months.”

Derek drops Stiles flat on his face.

                                                              *****

The first time Stiles walks into Derek’s loft and finds him cooking he’s so stunned that he forgets to actually stop walking and crashes into a table.

Derek raises an eyebrow without looking away from where he’s blanching (blanching) vegetables. Once Stiles has stopped rolling around on the floor he uses two bar stools to pull himself right-side-up and brushes himself off as nonchalantly as he can manage.

“You cook?” he asks, trying his hardest not to appear incredulous, but Derek is wearing oven mitts so it’s not really going too well.

Derek levels him with his patented ‘why am I dating an idiot?’ look. It’s very, very flat.

“Yes, Stiles, I can cook,” he says, and pokes at something sizzling in a pan. Stiles boggles. Derek raises his other eyebrow this time. “Why is this shocking? You know I eat.”

“Well, yeah, objectively,” Stiles agrees. “I just always assumed you lived off a diet of Hot Pockets, squirrels, and the tears of your enemies.”

So very flat.

“Well, I’d hate to disappoint. I’ll throw this in the bin and then head out to rustle up some woodland creatures.” He goes to turn off the burner and Stiles dives across the kitchen.

"No, no, no. This is good. This is — What is this?” Stiles takes a whiff and just about hits the floor again. “Oh god, feed me.”

(Stiles can cook too, but his speciality is sweet things. Derek couldn’t bake a cake to save his life. They’re a match made in culinary heaven.)

                                                            *****

"No,” Derek says sternly, giving Stiles everything his eyebrows have to offer. “Absolutely not.”

“What! Derek, come on, you know you want one,” Stiles wheedles, waggling his own eyebrows at Derek. He looks ridiculous and definitely not appealing.

“I have my hands full enough just trying to look after you.”

"Hey!” Stiles squawks. “I resent that! I am a fully functioning adult, thank you very much,” he says, puffing himself up.

All Derek has to do is glance pointedly at the thing curled up in Stiles’ arms and he puffs right back down again.

“I’ll keep her at my place! You won’t even know she’s there. I’ll take such good care of her, I swear.” Derek remains unmoved. Stiles pulls out the big guns. “Babe, please.” Damn him. “Just look at that face. You can’t say no to that face.”

The thing is, Derek is dangerously close to letting slip just how true that is. He’ll never be able to say no to Stiles. He might put up a token protest, but Derek knows that the second Stiles asks him for anything he’s already screwed.

And right now Stiles isn’t pulling his punches either. He’s got the big eyes and the pouty lips and his neck stretched out at the most perfect angle and Derek’s ready to fall to his knees and offer Stiles everything.

Except, what, no, not this time, Stiles is starting to make him legitimately insane.

“Who are you?! Hagrid?!” he exclaims. “Put the dragon down, Stiles.”

Stiles pulls this heartbroken face, and Derek is almost swayed except dragon.

“But she’s just a baby!” Stiles wails. “She doesn’t know how to look after herself.”

“She just singed off Scott’s eyebrows,” Derek says flatly. “I think she’ll be fine.”

(On the walk back to the Jeep Derek offers to buy Stiles a cat in place of the dragon, because they’re basically the same thing anyway and Derek is a sucker.)

                                                            *****

“I told you not to do it,” Derek sing-songs, condescendingly, not even looking up from his book. The ass.

“No you didn’t,” Stiles moans from his place on the couch. He removes his arm from his face to glare weakly at said ass. “You said, ‘As if you’d ever get your nipple pierced’. Which was basically a direct challenge. Which means of course I did it.”

Derek doesn’t even stop reading to roll his eyes at Stiles. He just kind of widens them slightly with a long-suffering look on his face. The ass.

"This is entirely your fault,” Stiles whines. Derek doesn’t respond at all.

Stiles wriggles around making pitiful noises until Derek snaps his book shut with a growl. “What.”

“It hurts,” Stiles sniffles.

“Well that’s because you poked a piece of metal through your flesh,” Derek bitches, but he gets up and walks over to the couch anyway. He lifts Stiles’ legs and settles himself down, Stiles’ thighs splayed across his lap. Then he curls his hand around Stiles’ knee and begins leeching his pain.

“Better?” he asks, and Stiles hums in the back of his throat, his eyes fluttering shut.

He’s just about to drop off the edge of consciousness when something hot and wet envelops his nipple. Stiles jerks violently and finds Derek staring up at him from his chest, eyes dancing. He grins wickedly and flicks his tongue against the bar and Stiles melts.

(Derek ends up loving Stiles’ nipple piercing. Stiles lords it over him for months until Derek comes home with a piercing in a much more sensitive place. Stiles’ mouth is busy doing other things after that.)

                                                            *****

Derek went into this relationship with Stiles with his eyes wide open. Which basically meant he was expecting a lot of sex, because every second word out of the kid’s mouth was innuendo and he smelled constantly turned-on. And Stiles did not disappoint. There was a lot of sex. A lot.

Derek was not expecting the cuddling. But five months in Derek’s beginning to wonder if Stiles is actually a were-octopus and just hasn’t told him yet.

No matter how aggressively he spoons Stiles when they’re drifting off to sleep, he’ll always wake up buried under warm, clingy boy.

When Derek joined the Stilinski’s in visiting the Sheriff’s mother over Thanksgiving, he passed out alone on the couch and woke to Stiles wrapped around him, his face shoved under a throw pillow.

Stiles holds him in the shower, tucks Derek under his arm at pack movie nights, plasters himself to Derek’s back in the kitchen when he’s soft and tired-eyed.

The first time Stiles grabbed Derek’s hip and rested his head on Derek’s shoulder while they were both brushing their teeth Derek spent two whole minutes staring at him in the mirror. The first time. Now it feels weird whenever he’s not lopsided during his entire morning routine.

For years after Kate, Derek was uncomfortable being touched. Other people’s hands made his blood pump harder and his breathing turn shallower and his muscles coil up. Now, the safest he ever feels is when Stiles’ arms are snug around his heart.

He Can’t Hurt You.

Summary- Reader is starting to hallucinate Lucifer, (basically like Sam) she keeps it a secret but her brothers find out.

Warnings- Swearing(I think idk).

A/N- It’s just something I thought of when I was watching reruns of SPN, I’m honestly really chuffed with it:)


Slowly opening your eyes you tensed up, somebody was in your room, you slowly reached your hand under your pillow and grasped the gun you had lying under it.

“I know you’re awake, Y/N” the voice spoke, “and a gun? Really? You think a gun would work on little old me? How adorable” he mocked. Rolling your eyes, you sat up and faced him with furrowed eyebrows, “who are you?” You asked quietly, he looked at you with fake hurt as he placed his hand over his heart, “you mean, Sammy hasn’t told you about me? I’m hurt” he spoke, then his eyes turned red causing you to shuffle back slightly.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

IDK if you saw the post about how, before the Death Star plans were captured, the asset Bail was sending was *Leia herself* to Obi-Wan. But I'd like an AU based on that. No Death Star Plans, only a 19-year-old-girl strong in the Force, trying to beat the Empire.

She didn’t—

Luke cocked his head, watching the girl in white move through the marketplace. He couldn’t figure out what it was about her, why one minute he had been engrossed in Waing’s new shipment of power converters and the next he was staring at her, totally unable to tear his eyes away. He wasn’t entirely sure how he’d gone from one to the other, except he had, and now he was watching her. It was important he watch her, he knew it was important, though he couldn’t figure out how he knew that, or why.

It wasn’t that she stood out—sure, no one wore robes of that clean white, not unless they had a lot of slaves or droids to do the laundry for them, and yeah, she was the sort of pale you generally only saw in traders, who spent more time in artificial grav than sunslight. But she could be a water merchant’s daughter slumming it in Toshe, or an off-worlder, taking in the sights. (Not that they had many sights to see in Toshe, Luke thought with a snort.) And nobody else seemed to notice her; she stopped at Kinqua’s stall and dipped her fingers into the bowl Kinqua left out for tasting, and lifted it to her lips, licked the droplets away.

Luke had seen Kinqua casually lop off a child’s hand for that.

Skywalker,” Waing said, startling Luke out of his thoughts. “You made a decision? Or are you just going to keep feeling up my tech until it agrees to go home with you?”

“Cool your drives, Waing,” Luke said mildly, but he was still staring at the girl in white. She had two droids trundling after her, he realized belatedly—an astromech and a protocol droid, though he couldn’t make out what they were saying at this distance. Their lights were flashing, though, and he wished he could read visual binary.

“Oh, I see,” Waing said after a minute, and Luke could hear them smirking. “My tech isn’t all you’re hoping to take back to the Whitesun-Lars homestead.”

Luke felt his face go hot, and he forced himself to look back at Waing. They were smirking. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said coolly, but he couldn’t focus on the power converters anymore. The girl in white, had she—

“Pardon me.”

This close it was abundantly obvious that she wasn’t from Tatooine—no one from this planet carried that air of interestingness with them, like they had a secret that might change the whole course of your life. She must be an off-worlder. “I’m looking for Obi-Wan Kenobi. Do you know where I might find him? I was told he lives near here—”

“Old Ben?” Luke cut in, before Waing could answer. “Do you mean Old Ben?”

The girl in white looked at him for a long moment, and Luke felt the back of his neck heating up. “I don’t know,” she finally said. “Is he near here?”

“Oh, sure,” Luke laughed, more out of relief than anything else. “Old Ben’s just a few klicks from here, he lives near the western gorge—I could take you, if you want,” Luke said quickly, because she looked increasingly put-out, and he felt something in his chest twinge in answer to it.

But she shook her head. “Thank you for the offer, but this is a personal matter.”

“It’ll cost you serious credits if you charter a speeder,” Luke said. “I’m headed that way anyway, let me take you. And your droids. Really,” he said, because she still looked uncertain. “It’s no trouble.”

She looked at him for a long moment, and her dark eyes were very serious. (He liked her eyes, for no particular reason he could figure out.) “My name is Leia,” she finally said, sticking her hand out. 

“Luke,” Luke laughed, taking it and shaking it. It was cool and smooth, and if he’d needed any confirmation she was from off-world, that was it. “Skywalker. My uncle owns a moisture farm in the eastern hemisphere.”

“I’m—not from around here,” she said, and Luke almost laughed because—well, obviously.

“Consider yourself lucky,” Luke said, and something of her tiredness and tightness (why did he know she was tired, down to her bones?) eased. She smiled back, a small smile. Luke counted it as a victory.

“I am C-3PO,” the protocol droid cut in, sticking his head between them as though it would stop them from looking at one another. He was burnished gold, and in the high sunslight it hurt to look at him. “And this is my companion, R2-D2.”

The astromech whistled a greeting, and Luke laughed. “Pleasure to meet—all of you. My speeder’s docked by the Ithorian, if you want…?”

“Hey, Skywalker, aren’t you going to buy anything?” Waing interrupted, and Luke winced, barely managing to tear his eyes away from Leia, who was still smiling, very slightly.

“Sorry, uh—maybe next week?” Luke offered lamely, but he was already ushering Leia and her droids away, and he could hear her laugh, very softly. (His chest fell too full, hearing it.)

It felt strange, formal and right, to help her into the speeder. Her hand in his was a kind of symmetry, inexplicable, the way he knew how a speeder was supposed to fit together, how a full tank of moisture sounded when you rapped it with a knuckle. Organic and totally without reason, their hands fitting together. She still hadn’t told him her surname, if she had a surname. Where she was from. What she was doing here. What her droids were doing here.

Luke couldn’t help but trust her utterly. Otherwise, why did her hand feel like that, resting in his?

What do you need to see Old Ben for?” Luke shouted over the rush of air around the speeder.

I told you,” Leia shouted back. The white hood she wore had fallen back, and her hair was dark. Even carefully styled, those loops over her ears, strands came loose, whipping around her face. “It’s personal!”

They stopped at the farm first, just to refuel and drop off the handful of things Luke did buy—rations, holonews downloads, some sucrose-candies for Aunt Beru. But when they touched down, Owen went white beneath his sunsburn, staring at Leia like she was a creature from another galaxy. “Your Highness,” he breathed, and Luke had to correct him, just an off-worlder looking for Old Ben; don’t pay her any mind. Look, Uncle Owen, I brought you your Almanac—

Leia was silent; picking at a loose thread in her white, white robes.

(Afterwards, she was silent, her arms crossed over her waist. They sped across the desert, which was gathering dark by the armful. “Sorry,” Luke said, trying to keep himself from shivering, “I know it gets cold at night.”

“It’s all right,” Leia said. “On—my planet, it snowed. We had mountains, and we would build whole castles out if it, out of snow. It was beautiful.”

“I’d like to see snow,” Luke said, but he thought it was lost in the sound of the speeder, because she didn’t reply.)

By the time they reached Old Ben’s place, it was dark enough for a lamp to be burning, the light spilling beneath the door and out the window. Luke watched as Leia knocked on the daub doorframe, shivering.

Still, it was worth staying just to watch the flicker of Old Ben’s expression from surprise to shock when he greeted her. He called her by a name that was definitely not ‘leia’ and Luke watched her shoulders hitch. “No,” Leia said finally. “I am Leia Organa, Princess of Alderaan. I am the daughter of Queen Breha Organa and Viceroy Bail Organa, and I am—I am here to beg your aid for the rebellion.”

Luke wasn’t so surprised that he didn’t notice Ben’s eyes cut to him, and then away.

“Princess,” Ben said finally, with an awful heaviness. Luke had brought him ration packs and listened to his stories he had never sounded like that before, like it was something awful and deep beyond saying. “If they sent you to find me, they must be very desperate.”

“No,” she said quickly, and Luke knew she was lying. “No, but—we need Jedi. We cannot go forward, we cannot fight, if the Force is not with us.”

This time, Old Ben’s stare lingered on Leia, then on Luke. He seemed to be making up his mind about something, though Luke couldn’t say what. Old Ben had always struck him as a sort of harmless religious sort; in another world he might have been a Jedi like in the stories, but instead he was a desert madman, talking to the air and clutching at a bit of carbon tubing like it was a lightsaber.

There was nothing harmless about the way he was looking at them now.

“I’ve been happy here,” Old Ben muttered, quietly, like an apology.

“Fine,” Leia said, almost a snarl. Luke could only see her in silhouette, against the light from Old Ben’s hut. He thought suddenly of a predator, something that could leap on the unsuspecting. “But no one ever promised us happiness.”

Luke could see Old Ben’s throat work. “Come in,” he said at last. His gaze darted to Luke, and Luke caught his breath. “What I have to say is—for both of you, now.”

Luke shut off the speeder.

(He had followed Leia into Old Ben’s hut, and didn’t come out the same man. No, not the same man at all.)

Yuuri and his Decision Not to Retire in ep 12

So I was doing some thinking and realized that while I’ve talked to death about Victor’s career decision in episode 12, I’ve never really delved into the intricacies of Yuuri’s. He makes a career decision that’s just as important as Victor’s – to not retire.

This might sound odd since he’s never taken a break like Victor did but Yuuri had been planning all season to retire after the GPF. He feels his time in his career is limited, and we see him come back to this multiple times throughout the series. That itself spawned from the fact that even before Victor came, Yuuri had been considering the idea of retirement. Then, in episode 12, he made the choice not to retire but to continue skating. Why?

I’ve heard multiple people’s interpretations of the reason(s) for this decision and I’ve gotten a lot varied responses, so I figured I’d share mine! Let’s start from the beginning of the episode and work our way through!

Keep reading

My Puppy | 1

Originally posted by rapnamu

CHAPTER ONE

Chapters: [1] [2] [3]

Pairing: Taehyung X Reader-First Person View

Genre & Warnings: SMUT, fluff, pet play. 

Word Count: 4,406

NOTE: Pure Filth. Turn back now if you don’t want to see. Turning Tae Tae into my Fuck Puppy (Thanks, Anon). Soft femdom. Let me tell you, it was an EXPERIENCE writing this, and I am still not perfectly pleased with it. Mostly because I’m never happy with my own smut writing. I had to do so much research, so google probably thinks I’m freaky naughty af. Which I suppose I am considering I wrote this lol. So, for those that are hardcore into this and think I didn’t portray it well enough, I’m sorry, I tried. And I learned quite a bit about myself, like the fact that if I ever get my hands on someone like Tae, I am so going to try this. Now enjoy, and excuse me as I go drench myself in holy water to cleanse myself of sin. 


“You know, I hate the winter. It reminds me of your cold heart.”

My now ex-boyfriend mutters this line, looking into the snowy sky. He sighs loudly and saunters off, without looking back. What a fucking drama queen. I can’t help but snort as I watch him disappear into the light snowfall, and wonder what movie he got that line from.

Cold heart.

I don’t have a cold heart. He was just a damn bore. He never wanted to do anything but watch movies and freaked out if I suggested anything besides missionary. I’ve been thinking about breaking up with him for weeks now but was putting it off because I knew he’d cry. This saved me all the hassle.

Note to self: Don’t date actors.

Keep reading

Love Me Please

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Genre: CEO!AU | Angst/Fluff

Word Count: 1872

Author’s Note: I do not own the gif. Credit goes to owner.

↠ Masterlist | ↠ Ask


Being the personal assistant of one of Korea’s well known businessman wasn’t easy. Especially, when said businessman was the most morose and irritating person you’ve ever met in your life. To be honest, when you first applied for this job, you did not expect your boss to be a 22-year-old young man. At the beginning, you admired how well he handled his work and company with passion and hard work at such a young age, finding it even attractive to the point where you couldn’t wait to go to work the next morning. Well, that was until he removed that heartwarming smile and showed his true face. Who would have known that said boss was hiding a very conceited personality behind that ‘Oh I’m so hardworking, down to earth and I love my job’ mask? Surprise! You didn’t. Until he started picking at everything you were doing, be it good or bad, giving you harsh comments every now and then, making you want to punch him right in the face. But being the hardworking woman you were, you never gave up and worked even harder, proving to him that no matter what he was doing, you wouldn’t break down as he wished you would.

You name is Y/N, and you are going to show your Boss, Kim Taehyung, that you’re unbreakable.


“Mr. Kim, we need to hurry-“

Before you could end your sentence, you covered your eyes with your hands, turning your head around so fast you thought your neck snapped.

Taking a deep breath, you clenched your jaw tightly and hissed slightly. “Mr. Kim! The dinner starts in 15 minutes, we need to leave now.“

“Babe, why don’t you just kick her out?“ You heard the woman sitting on his lap ask with a high pitched voice, her lips still attached on his neck.

Chuckling at the question, your boss answered with his raspy voice. “Darling, you know I would, but this dinner is important. My dad has obliged me to go there no matter what.“

“But Babe~“ She whined as she pouted her lips.

“I’ll see you tonight, sweetheart.“

Gaging at their nicknames for each other, you watched how your boss winked at his–most probably–one night stand as he reached out for his jacket, walking toward you with a smirk plastered on his lips.

Rolling your eyes, you opened the door and stepped out of his office as you were looking down to your planer. When you felt his presence beside you, you started talking. “Chairman Kim wanted me to say that this dinner with Mr. Byun is very important. The last dinner you both had didn’t go well, I know. But please try to make sure to convince him to sign the contract, Sir. Otherwise your father will be mad at you.“

“You’re really talking too much, Y/N.“ Your Boss huffed as he nodded to his driver once to affirm him that he could drive now.

Taking another deep breath, you tried to calm your anger down. “This dinner is important, Mr. Kim. Please, take it seriously.“

Clicking his tongue, he mumbled. “Whatever.“

Looks like tonight was going to be a very stressful and long night.


“But Sir, your father wants you to apologize!“

Glaring at you, Taehyung hissed. “I’m not apologizing, Y/N! You, out of all people, should now that!“

Placing your fingers on your temple, you whispered. “I know, Sir. Mr. Byun wasn’t behaving like a professional either but this is really important for your company. This is the best deal we’ve received for this project and everyone worked really hard on it. Please, do it for your workers, Sir..“

You watched how his eyes softened after hearing your words. Tilting your head a little bit, you looked him expectantly in the eyes. “Hmm?“

Breaking the eye contact, he nodded and mumbled softly. “Okay..“

Smiling triumphantly, you leaned back in your chair. Checking the time on your watch, you confirmed. “It’s already 8 o’clock, he should be here any minute-“

Just before you could end your sentence, Mr. Byun walked up to your table. Nudging your Boss, you whispered. “He’s here.“

Now you just had to do one thing; get the signature.


“Taehyung, my friend, why aren’t you eating?“ Mr. Byun asked as he smirked at your Boss.

Placing a fake smile on his face, Taehyung answered. “I’m not hungry, Mr. Byun.“

“Why did you order food if you’re not hungry. Wait, why do I even care? You’re the one who’s going to pay.“ Mr. Byun laughed shamelessly.

Turning your head to your left, you observerd Taehyung’s face, who, by the way, insisted you should sit beside him. His jaw was clenched and his hands were formed into fists, anger running through his whole body.

The dinner wasn’t going as smoothly as you hoped, the sarky remarks that was leaving Mr. Byun’s mouth turning the atmosphere into an uncomfortable one. Every now and then, you turned your head to your boss and tried to make eye contact with him, making sure that he wouldn’t jump out of his chair and punch Mr. Byun right in the face.

“My lovely Y/N, are you just eating a salad?“

Hearing your name coming out of Mr. Byun’s mouth in such a way, your whole body tensed. “A-Ah, yes. I’m not that hungry,“ you said while forcing a smile.

“Ahh, so you’re taking care of your body, hm?“ He asked again.

“E-Ehm, yeah, yeah..“

“Believe me, sweetheart, I would do the same if I would have such a beautiful body like yours. I wish I had such a beautiful assistant like you. I would work 24/7 and never leave my office.“ He said as he observed your body up and down.

You jumped slightly when you heard your Boss slam his cutlery on the table. When you turned your head to him, you saw him glaring at the man sitting in front of you, the veins on his neck already visible.

Taehyung was angry, very angry.

You, on the other hand, didn’t know what to do. You couldn’t ruin this dinner, you had to think about your coworkers who had worked so hard on this project. They deserved the best. So, you took a deep breath and tried to calm down.

Cutting his steak into pieces, Mr. Byun asked another inappropriate question. “Sweetheart, are you single?“

Gripping your chair, you answered through your gritted teeth. “Yes, I am, Sir.“

Don’t ruin this, Y/N! Don’t!

“Hm, beautiful.“

From the corner of your eye, you saw Taehyung lift his knife up as he glared at Mr. Byun. Immediately, your hand reached towards his hand, taking the knife away from him and giving him his glass filled with water. When you made sure that nothing sharp was near his side, you slightly leaned to him and hissed. “Don’t, Mr. Kim. Don’t forget why we’re here. Here, drink your water.“

Thank God, Mr. Byun oblivious to all this since he was enjoying his steak.

Looking up from his plate, the man sitting in front of you smiled at your Boss. “So, Taehyung. I’m listening to you.“

Turning his head to you, Taehyung watched how you nodded at him once. Gulping down, he started talking. “Our last dinner we had a few days ago didn’t went so well. I might have overreacted a little bit. I’m..“ he closed his eyes and tightened his fists, “I’m sorry, Mr. Byun.“

Looking up at Mr. Byun, you saw him smiling triumphantly. “That’s how you should do it, my dear friend, Taehuyng.“

Every word that was coming out of his most was making Taehyung’s blood boil without thinking about the consequences. Slowly, but surely, he was reaching his limit.

You watched how the man sitting in front of you drank his last gulps of water, holding the glass almost in front of your face. “Could one of you bring me water?“

Cursing inwardly at him, you forced another smile. “Ah, yes, of course.“

Searching for a waiter in the fancy restaurant, you turned your head from side to side. Taehyung, too, searched for one.

Seeing that nobody was anywhere near, Mr. Byun spoke up. “Taehyung, your assistant should pour me some water. I would love to drink the water poured by such a beautiful woman.“

Taehyung’s head snapped towards Mr. Byun in a blink of an eye, his jaw almost breaking from the way he was clenching it with such force.
The moment you realized that your Boss was ready to attack the shameless man, you intervened. Grabbing his arm, you stopped him immediately and spoke up. “I can do it!“

Standing up, you searched for a carafe, walking toward Mr. Byun’s side of the table and pouring it in his glass. Placing the glass on the table, you took a step away from him, ready to sit back down on your chair, but stopped when you felt his hand on your wrist. Yanking you down beside him, Mr. Byun wrapped his arm around your shoulder and smiled at you. “Thank you, sweetheart. Now why don’t you just sit here for the rest of the night and accompany me, hm?“

That was it, that was the last straw.

Without being able to understand what was happening, you were yanked away from Mr. Byun and soon, your Boss was punching the man in the face with his blood covered fists.

Immediately, you rushed forward and tried to stop your Boss, shouting in between his curses. “Mr. Kim! Sir, Please, don’t! Sir, stop! TAEHYUNG!“

Hearing his name coming out of your mouth for the first time, Taehyung stopped immediately. Grabbing your wrist, he turned to Mr. Byun and hissed. “If I see you ever again, I will kill you!“

With that, he walked out of the restaurant. “Mr. Kim! What do you think you’re doing?! What are we going to say to Chairman Kim now?! You’re father is going to-“

“He was literally harassing you, Y/N! I’ll kill that bastard!“

“Do you know how much I struggled to arrange this dinner, Sir?! I begged to so many people so that Mr. Byun would clear his schedule for tonight! You ruined everything!“

“What should I have done?! Should I have watched how that disrespectful bastard was harassing you in front of my eyes?!“

“For the sake of your company, yes, Sir! You know how important this project is-“

“NOTHING IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN YOU, Y/N!“

Frozen, you looked at his face. “W-What?“

Taking a deep breath, Taehyung ran his fingers through his hair. “I can’t stand seeing him harass you like that! I don’t know why but whenever I see you near a man, I get angry and I have the urge to protect you!“

Blinking a few times, you asked hesitantly. “Mr. Kim, what are you talking about-“

“I think I’m in love with you, Y/N.“

Well, shit..

Things I loved about The Dark Prophecy: 

Once again, it starts with Apollo hating his humanity, something that I believe won’t change in some time, he was born a god, after all. Though I fervently believe that he is learning from his time as a mortal. 

Through the whole book, we are able to read some of his most selfish comments, which is to be expected, since he had always been portrayed as a selfish, self-centered god. However, we’re able to see his selfless and kind side, too. 

Example: 

From: 

“…It went against the very nature of being Apollo. I should always be the most obvious, brilliant source of light in the world. If you had to search for me, something was wrong.” 

And: “I tried to contain my bitterness. Soldiers and sailors were all very well, but if your city’s biggest monument is not Apollo, I’m sorry, you’re doing something wrong.” 

To: 

“You rescued me.” Then I added two words that never came easily to a god: “Thank you.” 

And

“When I was a god, I would’ve been delighted to leave the mortal heroes to fend for themselves. I would’ve made popcorn and watched the bloodbath from a distance on Mount Olympus, or simply caught the highlight reel later. But as Lester, I felt obligated to defend these people….I wanted to be here for them.” 

And: 

“Their eyes were so full of concern- concern for me- that I had to swallow back a lump in my throat. Six weeks we had been traveling together. Most of that time, I had fervently wished I could be anywhere else, with anyone else. But with the exception of my sister, had I ever shared so many experiences with anyone? I realized, gods help me, that I was going to miss these two.” 


These are some of the parts I loved the most about the book:

  • The Waystation. It’s nice to know of more demigod safe-spaces, more so when they’re under the loving care of Emmie and Josephine: 

We’ve saved a lot of demigods and other outcasts- raised them at the Waystation, let them go to school and have a more or less normal childhood, then sent them out into the world as adults with the skills they needed to survive.” 

It’s different from both Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter, where, no matter how much they protect you and care for you, it could never be as normal and comforting as being raised in a “normal” loving environment. 

  • The relationship between Apollo and Calypso: They hate each other, that much is perfectly clear…

“Lo!” I said. “I arrived at Camp Half-Blood as Lester Papadopoulos!” 

“A pathetic mortal!” Calypso chorused. “Most worthless of teens!” 

“-…her evil stepfather had poisoned her mind!”

“Poison!” Calypso cried. “Like the breath of Lester Papadopoulos, most worthless of teens!” 

“Lo!” I shouted. “From the Oracle of Dodona we received a prophecy- a limerick most terrible!”  

“Terrible!” Calypso chorused. “Like the skills of Lester, most worthless of teens!” 

Though as the chapters progress, it appears that it’s more of a mutual disagreement than actual hatred.  Apollo realizes how unfair their punishment on her was, and starts to feel like his own treatment towards her is unfair: 

“Just yesterday, I had toyed with the idea of leaving Calypso behind to the blemmyae when she was wounded. I’d like to say that it wasn’t a serious thought, but it had been, however briefly. Now Calypso refused to leave Meg, whom she barely knew. It was almost enough to make me question whether I was a good person…” 

And, in the end, they become friends. They still have much path to cover and much to discuss, but I believe they’re on good terms now. 

  • Calypso and Leo: 

One of the many topics vastly discussed after Blood of Olympus was how short and forced their relationship seemed. However, in The Dark Prophecy, we caught a glimpse of the reality they’re living on: 

They’re trying to discover who they are together, as a couple and as friends. We see their multiple fights and their disagreements, and I believe it’s a very good thing! They’re exploring the possibilities of their relationship! 

We see Calypso missing her island, we see her missing her powers, but most than anything else, we can see that Calypso and Leo truly love one another, and that they’re trying. It feels real, their problems, which only makes it better. It was to be expected that they’d be fighting and having problems, since they hadn’t talked much back on her island before he was forced to leave. They’re testing the waters, as Calypso explained. 

They’re trying to build a good future for each other, they’re even going to enter school together. I like how their relationship improved, I like that Rick portrayed and fixed the mess that was their relationship by the end of BoO. 

I also loved that Leo keeps calling her mamacita, and that Leo’s full name is actually Leonidas

  • In general, everything about Emmie and Josephine was pure perfection. 

They were hunters of Artemis, hunters who fell in love with one another and decided to choose each other over immortality. Their love was beautifully portrayed, and the fact that they adopted a daughter was even more precious for me and for everyone in the LGBT community.

I like that, on a similar topic, we had more explanation about the Hunters of Artemis and their rules: 

“All romance is off-limits. My sister is quite unreasonable in that regard. The mission of the Hunters is to live without romantic distractions of any kind.”

It makes more sense that the Hunters only being prohibited the company of men, as was stated by the Titan’s Curse. I like that Rick fixed that, too. 

AND ARTEMIS BEING COMPASSIONATE AND LETTING THEM LEAVE HER GROUP WITHOUT PUNISHING THEM, GODS BLESS HER SOUL. 

Also, Zeus forbidding Artemis from interfering with Apollo makes me so angry, but I didn’t expect anything less than that coming from him. It was good, though, that Artemis sent her Hunters to help Apollo discretely, just like when Apollo helped Percy and co. with rescuing Artemis and Annabeth. 

  • Apollo being thirsty as fuck: 

Apollo having the hots for Tall, Dark & Handsome Jamie. 

Apollo being a fluttering mess when talking to him, then feeling away as soon as he heard Jamie had a girlfriend. 

Apollo canonically having fantasies involving Thalia: “Thalia Grace climbed up behind me on the elephant- which fulfilled a daydream I’d once had about the pretty Hunter, though I hadn’t imagined it happening quite this way.” 

Apollo canonically doing all sort of stuff to get Britomartis’ attention. To get a “kiss” and a “cute date” from her. (We all know that he wanted more than just a date and a kiss, but alas, this is a “children’s book”

  • Apollo and Commodus: 

I’m aware that Commodus is evil, and I don’t like him as a character, but honestly, his relationship with Apollo killed me unlike any other relationship ever had. More specially, this: 

“Overhead, a white silk canopy billowed in the gentle breeze. Inn one corner, a musician sat discretely serenading us with his lyre. Under our feet spread the finest rugs from the eastern provinces. Between our two couches, a table was spread with an afternoon snack of roast boar, pheasant, salmon, and fruit spilling from gold solid cornucopia. 

I was amusing myself by throwing grapes at Commodus’ mouth. Of course, I never missed unless I wanted to, but it was fun to watch the fruit bounce off Commodus’ nose.

“You are terrible,” He teased me. 

And you are perfect, I thought, but merely smiled.”

And: 

“I didn’t mean to laugh at the expense of his distant wife, but part of me was pleased when he talked badly about her. I wanted all his attention for myself.” 

And, of course: 

“Commodus looked at me, panic in his eyes.

“Go,” I said, as calmly as I could, forcing down my misgivings. “You will always have my blessings. You will do fine.” 

But I already suspected what would happen: the young man I knew and loved was about to be consumed by the emperor he would become. 

He rose and kissed me one last time. Then he left the tent- walking, as Romans would say, into the mouth of the wolf. 

“Apollo,” Calypso nudged my arm.

“Don’t go!” I pleaded. Then my past life burned away. “ 

Never forget this hear-wrenching part: 

“As I often did for him after our workout sessions, I filled his great marble bath with streaming rose-scented water. I helped him out of his soiled tunic and eased him into the tub. For a moment, he relaxed and closed his eyes. 

I recalled how he looked sleeping besides me when we were teens. I remembered his easy laugh as we raced through the woods, and the way his face scrunched up adorably when I bounced grapes off his nose. 

I sponged away the spittle and blood from his beard. I gently washed his face. Then I closed my hands around his neck. “I’m sorry.”

I pushed his head underwater and began to squeeze. Commodus was strong. Even in his weakened state, he thrashed and fought. In had to channel my godly might to keep him submerged, and, in doing so, I must’ve revealed my true nature to him. 

He went still, his blue eyes wide with surprise and betrayal. He could not speak, but he mouthed the words: You. Blessed. Me. 

The accusation forced a sob from my throat. The day his father died, I had promised Commodus: You will always have my blessings, Now I was ending his reign. I was interfering in mortal affairs- not just to save lives, or to save Rome, but because I could not stand to see my beautiful Commodus die by anyone else’s hands. 

I hunched over him, crying, my hands around his throat, until the bathwater cooled. 

Britomartis was wrong. I didn’t fear water. I simply couldn’t look at the surface of any pool without imagining Commodus’ face, stung with betrayal, staring up at me.” 

Rick Riordan has a talent of portraying gods and their actions unlike anyone else. 

Apollo loved Commodus, he loved him deeply and wholeheartedly, but he couldn’t see anyone else killing his beloved Commodus. He killed him, for he could not stand the way the young man he loved had destroyed himself, turning into a murderous, evil emperor. 

For me, Apollo has always been a complex god. 

He said so himself in the first book, when he called his arrogance a pretense, when he mentioned he was a guilt-ridden, miserable god. He has never been good at love, for some reason, all of his lovers end tragically in one way or another, some by his own hand (Cassandra, Commodus, etc). It weighs him down more than he admitted when he was a god. As a mortal, he is more connected to his emotions, and is unable to put his usual facade of coolness and of arrogance. 

Everything he has done, every sin he has committed, weighs him down: 

“I imagined Trophonius’ head transposed on his body- my son’s agonized voice crying to the heavens, Take me instead! Save him, Father, please!

This blended with the face of Commodus, staring at me, wounded and betrayed as his carotid pulse hammered against my hands. You. Blessed. Me.

I sobbed and hugged the commode- the only thing that wasn’t spinning. Was there anyone I hadn’t betrayed and disappointed? Any relationship I hadn’t destroyed? 

  • And, since we’re talking about Apollo and his change, I’d like to mention his relationship with Meg. 

In the beginning, he could not stand her. Then by the end of the first book, he cared for her. Now, on this second book, the feeling grows and morphs into something so profound and so beautiful that I do not have words for it. 

“No! She was- she was trying to protect me.” I choked on the words. “She is my friend. Take me instead!”

And also:

“She is precious to you,” Said the Oracle. “Would you give your life in exchange for hers?”

I had trouble processing that question. Give up my life? At any point in my four thousand years of existence, my answer would’ve been an emphatic No! Are you crazy? One should never give up on one’s life. One’s life is important! The whole point of my quests in the mortal world, finding and securing all these ancient Oracles, was to regain immorality so I wouldn’t have to ponder such awful questions! 

And yet… I thought of Emmie and Josephine renouncing immortality for each other. I thought of Calypso giving up her home, her powers, and eternal life for a chance to roam the world, experience love, and possibly enjoy the wonders of high school in Indiana. 

“Yes,” I found myself saying. “Yes, I would die for Meg McCaffrey.”  

And lastly but not least important:

When Apollo shared Meg’s curse, slipping into her mind and trying to save her: “I would share this burden with her, even if it kills me.” 

What saved us what a simultaneous thought: Meg/Apollo needs me. 

There we had Apollo, someone that, supposedly, only cared about himself, risking his life, his human life, to save his little but beloved friend from madness and darkness. 

It’s a beautiful moment, more so for those of us that adore Apollo since before the PJO books. It’s a beautiful character development from the fuckboy we saw in Titan’s Curse; it’s a beautiful character development from the god that we met in the first TOA book, the god that could only feel annoyance towards Meg.

“Let the girl go,” I whimpered through the pain. “Kill me and let her go.” 

I surprised myself. These were not the last words I had planned. In the event of my death, I’d been hoping to have time to compose a ballad of my glorious deeds- a very long ballad. Yet here I was, at the end of my life, pleading not for myself, but for Meg McCaffrey.” 


  • The mention of other gods through the book: 

Apparently, gods have a weekly game night in Mount Olympus where Athena loves to gloat about her Scrabble scores. 

AND THIS SAVAGE LINES: (AKA: my cute, dorky ex-god being dorky as fuck)

“Ever since my famous battle with Python, I’ve had a phobia of scaly reptilian creatures. (Especially if you include my stepmother, Hera. BOOM!)

“I’ve always found spiders fascinating creatures, despite what Athena thinks. If you ask me, she’s just jealous of their beautiful faces. BOOM!” 

This important, yet short part: 

Leto knelt at Zeus’ side, her hands clasped in prayer. Her bronze arms glowed against her white sundress. Her long golden hair zigzagged down her back in an elaborate ladder weave. 

“Please, my lord!” She implored. “He is your son. He has learned his lesson!”

“Not yet,” Zeus rumbled. “His real test is yet to come.” 

I laughed and waved. “Hi, mom! Hi, dad!” 

There we have a glimpse of Leto being concerned over Apollo’s fate and we see that she cares. Zeus is, as always, being shady as fuck, and Apollo is super cute while hallucinating and being under the effect of the waters of Mnemosyne and Lethe. 

  • Apollo realizes how hard some demigods have it: 

From: 

“I’m new to these heroic-quest business. Shouldn’t there be a reward at the end? Not just more deadly quests?”

“Nope,” Leo said. “This is pretty standard.” 

My sweet, innocent Lester seems to forget that when he was Apollo, as a god, he never cared much for the quests he made demigods go through. 

“I wondered if demigods ever felt the need to restrain themselves when facing ungrateful gods like this. No. Surely not. I was special and different. And I deserved better treatment.” 

Had Percy Jackson been there, he would’ve written a gigantic thesis statement with a power-point presentation about how wrong Apollo was. 

Also, this part: 

“I knelt next to him- a boy of about sixteen, my mortal age. I felt no pulse. I didn’t know whose side he had fought on, but that didn’t matter. Either way, his death had gone to waste. I had begun to think that perhaps demigod lives were not as disposable as we gods liked to believe.” 

Finally, at the moment of war, Apollo realizes how easy it is for a mortal to die. And most times, demigods die because of the gods. 

  • The part where they find out Georgina might be Apollo’s daughter: 

The whole scene, though the most painful part was when Emmie asked if it was payback for having renounced to his gift of immortality: 

“I hadn’t known I could feel any worse, until I did. I really hate that about the mortal heart. It seems to have an infinite capacity of getting heavier. 

“Dear Emmie,” I said. “I would never. Even on my worse days, when I’m destroying nations with plague arrows or putting together set lists for Kidz Bop compilations, I would never take revenge in such a way…” 

That shows that he was a good god, even if he murdered and punished people, he had some kind of morality. He knew where his boundaries went: like when he mentioned that he flirted with the Hunters, but that he would never dare to go any further than that. 

Had it been Zeus, he would’ve raped them already; and canonically, on mythology, I’ve never read about any case of Apollo raping anyone. 

  • Also, I really liked that Rick added certain parts that showed that our actions, as mortals, are what define us and that, once we take one wrong decision, we cannot pray for better things when it is us that fuck things up. 

I’ve heard so many people complain that their prayers were never answered, that their God never helped them. They don’t seem to realize that God cannot help us if we don’t help ourselves first. 

It’s shown here: 

“Don’t blame me for you robbing the king’s treasury!” I snarled. “You are here because you messed up.” 

“I prayed to you!” 

“Well, perhaps you didn’t pray for the right thing at the right time!” I yelled. “Pray for wisdom before you do something stupid! Don’t pray for me to bail you out after you follow your worst instincts!” 

Apollo’s son, Trophonius, made wrong choices all his life, and when it came back to him, he wanted his father to miraculously save him. It doesn’t work like that, God/gods cannot help if we try to make them fix our whole lives. 

  • The way they temporarily defeated Commodus. (I found extremely pretty the way Apollo’s real form was revealed) (Finally we had an explanation as to why gods’ real forms are deadly to mortals: they’re pure light.)
  • The second chance Apollo gave Lityerses. “Everything alive deserves a chance to grow.
  • Lityerses sobbing when Emmie said he could be part of their family. 
  • All the “lit” jokes. And the commode ones too. 
  • “The two bumped fists as if they hadn’t spent the last few days talking about how much they wanted to kill each other. They would’ve made fine Olympian gods.” 
  • Little Georgina’s words to Apollo. How he told her he was there for her if she wanted to talk. How he was concerned about her, even if he was not sure if she was his daughter. 
  • You’ve built something good here, Hemithea.” I said. “Commodus could not destroy it. You’ll restore what you’ve lost. I envy you.” 

Everywhere he goes, Apollo seems to crave home. Not Olympus. Home, as in: a place where he’d feel loved and safe. In the 1st book, he wanted to stay in Camp with his children, now there, he admits that he craved the lovely home, the safe environment that they created at the Waystation. 

“It all felt so homey and cozy, I wanted to volunteer to wash dishes if it meant getting to stay another day.” 

  • Apollo trying to fix what he did to Agamethus by offering to go to the Underworld once he became a god again, to ask Hades to send him to Elysium. 
  • “Never underestimate the healing power of music.” 
  • Lit staying in the Waystation. 
  • Apollo mentioning that he believed in second chances, and that he could understand Lit since they had things in common- being attractive being one of those things. 
  • Apollo’s talking arrow only speaking bad Shakespearean English. 
  • Being productive. Urgh.Same, Apollo, same. 
  • The whole choo-choo scene, I don’t now why but I really really loved that part. 
  • The fact that WE MIGHT GET TO SEE REYNA, FRANK AND HAZEL ON THE NEXT BOOK.
  • GROVER UNDERWOOD IS FINALLY BACK. MY SON, MY BABY, MY FAVORITE ENCHILADA LOVER SATYR. HE WILL BE BACK. 

I must’ve missed many points, but this was already very long. In general, I really loved The Dark Prophecy, and I recommend everyone to read it as soon as they can! It is honestly so, so good. As good as the first one, I cannot wait for The Burning Maze