sorry for going on about this i just do not like it at all

“I said I wouldn’t cry!”

this has a lot of implications…it implies that Keith knew that he was going to be talking about some emotional stuff before doing the vlog. And what is the vlog for anyway? Did Coran tell them it was a diary of sorts? Did he tell the paladins to just talk about themselves? If the latter is the case, then this video is very telling of how Keith views himself, and what aspects he believe’s defines him. Most people when told to introduce themselves, they talk about things that they think defines them. And these are usually things like interests, hobbies, views, etc. But Keith doesn’t talk about any interests or hobbies. He says he pilots the black lion and he’s a paladin of Voltron, but that’s not necessarily an interest, even though he’s extremely dedicated to the cause. Instead the most he talks about are his flaws and abandonment issues. It’s very likely that Coran told all the paladins to make at least one vlog entry for future generations. Keith was probably like “But what should I say?” and Coran was probably like “Just tell them about yourself.” and what Keith decided what was most important to tell about himself was that he pilots the black lion, he’s a paladin of Voltron. He has trouble connecting with people, he has a temper, and he thinks it’s because his mom abandoned him and that he pushes people away so that they don’t reject him. These are the things that Keith thinks defines him. And he was obviously prepared beforehand to talk about these things, promising himself that he wouldn’t cry.

hello it’s mod s. i’m addressing this whole issue once. this is my answer to this ask and to every ask like it that i’ll get. since i’ve been a mod on here i have myself posted a handful of otay*ri things because i do ship otay*ri. y*rio is actually 16, i myself am 17, and otab*k is 18. i personally don’t see anything wrong with it. i live in America (and I am assuming you live somewhere where the age of majority is the same as it is here.) and go to high school here. let me tell you that third years that are 16/17 date 4 year students who are 17/18 all the time. whats a bit weird to me personally is when you have a 4th year student dating a 1st year or a larger age gap..but nobody cares about a year or two. it doesn’t make me uncomfortable. it’s not something that people condemn where i live. it’s nothing “weird” here. I am bringing this up because it’s something I see in my daily life and I don’t see it to be anything out of the ordinary. The characters themselves are from other countries where this isn’t weird either. Now. If otay*ri makes YOU uncomfortable and you see it as something bad then please unfollow and black list the tag. forget it’s even a thing. it’s that simple. what are you gaining by telling people that what we are doing is fucked up? and in a sense make me and others feel uncomfortable because everyone knows exactly what you’re trying to imply. do you think that you’re going to stop everyone from shipping otay*ri? no, sorry, they tried that and we’re still here lol. i don’t know how many fandoms you’re in but as someone who’s in many there are SO many ships i don’t like or that i think are “gross” but i shut my mouth and don’t bother people. it’s not my place to tell people what to ship and why. of course there is an issue with people shipping a certain age range (not otay*ri’s, im implying a much larger age range.) if you want to speak up about that problem, please do so! but not in my inbox. this is not the place. this blog is not doing anything wrong. we are sfw and for the most part post cute things for an anime we like. our intention is to help artist in our fandom get more recognition if they haven’t already. that’s all we are doing here. we are not hurting anyone. we are not forcing our ships onto others. we are simply enjoying this fandom with our followers. this is all i have to say about this topic. i can’t think of anything else atm because i think i said it all. i gave you my opinion from where it comes from, i can’t do anything else.  take or leave my explanation.

anonymous asked:

So I currently have an ear infection and it's made me wonder how everyone would react to having one. Thoughts?

I hope you get better soon!

Bruce: goes about his regular life but feels like he’s dying and then is eventually ordered by Alfred to go to the doctors

Dick: is such a crybaby but can totally bear the pain, he just likes having his siblings do what he asks for once

Jason: is in excruciating pain because he tries to ignore it but he uses guns and the noise does not fare well with his infected ear

Tim: doesn’t even realise it’s infected because he just kind of feels numb everywhere what with the coffee, stress and sleep deprivation. Eventually realises and gets medical help

Damian: pretty much the same as Bruce just with more “Dick doting on whatever he needs” than Bruce gets

Cass: very chillax about the whole thing even if it hurts, doesn’t complain all that much because she’s had worse and unless she’s being reckless, it’ll get better soon

Steph: complains the whole time, hates being sick in any capacity so this is absolute hell for her, even if it isn’t all that bad

Duke: absolutely fine unless he’s got to stay in bed for extended amounts of time because then he gets bored and restless

Babs: hates ear infections because she can’t use earbuds or listen to any loud music or anything and she just can’t wait for it to heal up and be done

Being Forgotten

So I was thinking about all of the teen titans that magically disappeared either in the reboot or in the middle of the series and this story just kind of happened. Sorry that it is a little confusing


-they don’t mean to forget you. They really don’t.

-It happen like it does for the rest of the them- you are there one day, gone the next.

-No one remembers you.

-Except they sort of do?

-Sometimes when Dick hears an especially funny joke he gets him phone out and gets ready to text you Someone. He doesn’t know who. Or why he would text it.

            -He’ll text Babs, but she just tells him to go to sleep and it’s not right,    someone else should be there

-Or when Babs is working hard on the computer and someone gives her a coffee without thinking she says “thanks Y/N.”

          -Everyone is confused.

          -Who’s y/n

         -and why is the name so familiar?

-Tim tells Barbara that it is because she is sleep deprived, but he can’t shake the feeling that he should know who you are.

-It goes on like this for awhile, your basically a ghost that they can’t quiet put a name to.

-they all know something is missing in the manor, but they can’t place what it is.

-it’s Damian surprisingly who remembers first.

-It’s because of a pressed flower you gave to him when he was new to the house. He found while looking through his stuff and he was confused as to why he would have it. Damian had no need for pressed pink flowers.

-suddenly a vision of you handing a young Damian the flower as a welcome gift, and Damian scouting and turning it away, only to return later and safely pocket his first ever gift and press it so he would always remember it.

-Suddenly Damian could remember everything about you!

-He ran through the manor screaming your name, trying to get everyone to remember you.

-they can’t.

-But Damian remembers you now, and he won’t ever forget, nor will he ever stop looking for you.

Thank you so much! and it’s no problem at all!

So, I would say that since she is confused and nervous, and most likely upset about their fight, the more realistic option would be for her to leave and return when she’s calmed down enough to get a clear insight on the situation. It might be best if you allow her time to figure things out, let her wrap her mind around what happened. Or to have her demand an explanation then so she can decide if she wants to leave or not.

I can also try and give you a couple dialogue prompts:

1. B: “Good Morning, Would you like some breakfast?”

A:”No, I want some Answers? What the hell happened last night?”


2. B: “Are you always this fucking cranky in the morning?”


3. A: “What do you think you are doing?”

B: “Cuddling?”

A:”Yeah; No. Not until I get an explanation for yesterday”


4. B:”Are you seriously going to walk all the way back to your place?”

A:”Yep!”

B:”You’re fucking insane. Just come back to bed”

A:”How about…No? I’ll talk to you tomorrow and you better have some answers and an apology”

I hope these work, and if you need anything else, don’t be afraid to ask!

melimelo-ochoa  asked:

Thank you so much for sharing that post about Mexico. It's been awful, two big earthquakes in just two weeks lapse, but it's so wonderful how all Mexicans and people from around the world have come together to help. This is what being a human is about! I found out that 5 students from my university died in a collapsed building at campus, and 40 others are injured, so any help is really appreciated!

I’m so, so sorry for you honey, and for all of those at your school. If there’s anything I can do please let me know. I may not be able to do much, but I can spread the word. 

I know there’s been a lot going around about how Americans don’t care about Mexico and Puerto Rico and that’s true for some people I’m sure, but the people I know are all very concerned and you’re in our thoughts and prayers (and news coverage). We are here for you, just like you were here for us, and we do care. We’re all humans, like you said, regardless of our country of origin-and no one deserves to go through this. 

Sending you lots of hugs from the US. I know it won’t make anything better but I do what I can. 

anonymous asked:

So I've learned the hard way how to study around my ADHD and I thought I was finally over my difficulties, but recently I just failed (FAILED!!!!) an exam I spent literally hours every day for weeks prepping for. I did all the practice work with no issue, and all the quizzes on the same material were As. And yet I got a 49 on the exam... it didn't even feel like it was a hard test I was SURE a got a B. What the hell else am I supposed to do to pass my classes when I'm already giving it my all??

I’m so sorry that happened to you! I know what it feels like, for sure.

Talk to your teacher about it and ask to go over the test to see where you messed up and how/why. It may be simple mistakes, misunderstanding questions… no way to know for sure without that.

Followers, do you have any other suggestions?

-J

3

Uuuuh supernatural/mythical creatures AU?? I was going to do fullbodys of everyone but I finished Phoenix’s and got tired…

Lots and I mean a LOT of extra details in the undercut

  • so uuuuh theres a lot of details about this universe i created sorry about that
  • human DO exist in this universe they’re just not as numerous (but are still kinda considered the “standard” for society, its a little racist)
  • creatures and humans didnt always exist together and some creatures maintain colonies and like to be isolated but mostly cities are diverse 
  • its not a really a social system, but with a city with “naturally dangerous creatures” theres “special security” (most citizens wouldnt attack people obviously but you know…”just in case”)
  • some citizens have to wear special collars/bracelets (depending on what “class” you are)
  • class h2 - half-human; either look partly human or human most of the time
  • class hL - human-like/”previously human”; looks human all of the time or used to be human
  • sub-classes categorize and help dictate wether a collar/bracelet is needed
  • feenie is a harpy, rare for a city given harpies need a LOT of space
  • class h2, sub-class pwc (predatory winged creatue, draconaids are here too)
  • “predatory” creatures like him wear state mandated collars in public, containing their info and can be used to deliver a paralyzing shock by police if need be (theres a fine if they’re in public without them)
  • maybe its…barbaric but idk i was going a little original concept zootopia on this
  • “for the protection of society against those who go ‘feral’“
  • anyways,,,phoenix cant use his wings like arms BUT there are some products manufactured specifically for creatures like him (like low desks and high chairs)
  • his feet are his hands
  • like real birds
  • about flying, technically hes only allowed to fly from rooftop to rooftop (thats considered “creature airspace”) or in big parks, if he tries to fly in between building its a “distraction” and it could cause accidents 
  • he usually prefers the subway/bus
  • edgeworth…im undecided on still
  • hes either gonna be a vampire or yuki-onna (”snow maiden”) but idk tell me what you guys think
  • either way hes class hL as “previously human”, and in this case wears a bracelet similar to phoenix’s collar
  • (if hes a vampire he buys blood to drink, its like a blood bank thing, i dont know im working on it)
  • either way, his office is always cold as hell
  • klavier is a siren, and his lower half is a fish tail (think beta fish) so hes in a wheelchair out of water
  • class h2, sub-class A (aquatic), special category “voice” (type: siren)
  • (other “voice” types are like succubus/incubus, its creatures with voice that can compel people against their will to do things with their voice)
  • klavier wears a “voice” collar, the front piece presses on his vocal chords in a way that makes normal talking easy, but switching to his “siren voice” is impossible
  • (does make singing hard but he wears it even while singing to prove hes not just a good singer because hes a siren but because hes actually good)
  • technically klavier COULD have legs, its a thing sirens can do, but its constantly physical agony, like walking on glass, so he doesnt do it
  • (kristoph does though, because hes “fancy” and its an underlying racism thing about looking more human makes you “better”)
  • when apollo first saw klavier he didnt know he was a siren and thought he was just a human in a wheelchair but found out later when he visited his office and its on the bottom floor and a big pool
  • blackquill’s a werewolf, why i didnt make him something bird related was i just,,,kept imagining him as a big fluffy werewolf
  • he doesnt HAVE to look like that all the time but he wants to…its an intimidation thing
  • class h2, sub-class pLm (predatory land mammal), he wears a collar like phoenix’s
  • he can shift between more wolf-like and human-like but on full moon night he has no choice and is a big wolf
  • he still has his mind though (doesnt lose control) but he gets antsy and calls athena to go on long midnight runs with him
  • edgeworth hates that he gets fur all over the office and hes at phoenix’s a lot, especially whenever phoenix is helping apollo get rid of fleas (those tiny wing claws do have a purpose)
  • apollo is a satyr, because uh goats scream
  • class h2, sub-class hLm (herbivorous land mammal), doesnt need a collar
  • is a vegetarian, doesnt eat any meat (he also chews through metal or paper sometimes, drinking a soda and then eating the can)
  • his eyes go sideways slit when hes REALLY nervous or scared
  • was scared of phoenix first time he met him, says hes not anymore but sometimes he gets jumpy around phoenix
  • blackquill doesnt help
  • his bottom half is a goat, but he wears pants similar to phoenixs
  • horns are like facial hair to satyrs, some satyrs can grow massive horns (also beards) others just…cant 
  • apollo cant grow his horns out further than that nor any real stubble, but he says he doesnt mind because of the neck problems anyways (he does mind)
  • athena is a “zombie”…technically? shes a living corpse
  • class hL, sub-class “artificial human”, meaning technically shes not a “real human” (at least not anymore)
  • shes not made of different human parts, more like she died and was reanimated
  • the stitching is because, as a corpse, her body parts can tear 
  • “apollo grab my arm, i think i left it in the other room-” “where?” “no wait nevermind i feel someone-” “*terrified bleating*” “oh sorry is this your leg-” “LET GO”
  • “dont lose your head there athena” “very funny boss”
  • according to blackquill and apollo, she smells bad
  • “like death” “i mean yeah im dead”
  • she doesnt need to sleep to shes always up, though she still likes to nap sometimes

I can come up with more stuff later, I still have some ideas, but ill see if anyone’s interested first (if you are please let me know i want to know if people like my ideas or not im weak and need validation)

anonymous asked:

I like your opinions on julian they’re all very true and valid... he’s scary and manipulative and turns his empathy on and off like a switch and it is kind of freaky? nevertheless, though I do like julian (mostly because he has villainous streak and I usually have a thing for villains? Idk don’t crucify me for that) but we are not about to burn the world down and break parabatai bonds¿¿ im interested to see where cassie takes this dark side of him because it could all go south really fast

I love reading antiheroes because they’re very interesting characters. And you’re right it could go south very fast. My problems with Julian are really just the fact that some of the fandom seems to think that his villainous behavior is hot and that’s honestly gross (not to mention dangerous??) And if he does become the villain for twp then we’ll have a lot of people being like “evil Julian is so hot” and NO JUST NO

PSA

Heyo!

So when I put up the hiatus theme, I didn’t realise people usually do that because something terrible has happened.  Nothing terrible has happened.  I just decided to take my own advice and take a break from Tumblr for a bit.  I’m very sorry for the people I confused/worried.  I have changed my blog back.

I know the aesthetic settings for my blog have been nuked, but I’m going to leave it for now because I’m going to change my theme anyway when I come back.  It will be like a week or so.  I want to change how I run the blog a bit also and I gotta think about it.

Thank you and sorry again!

anonymous asked:

I'm a lesbian who is struggling with comp het and like i know I'm not attracted to men already but I can't stop thinking about idk having a husband, kids, but when I actually go out with man i just feel gross and there was no connection at all. But like whenever they flirt with me I can't help but flirt back even tho I'm not into them like something in me want to live that life with a man but I'm not attracted to them ??? And idk what to do please help me

I used to have this problem all the time and I’m so sorry you’re struggling with it. What helped me is finding resources and stories for and about lesbian moms. I basically surrounded myself with life stories that reassured me that families that aren’t cishet exist. I also started spending more time focusing on what I want my future with a woman to look like. After awhile my brain slowly started to realize that it’s okay for me to want and see a future without men in my life.

3

well, I,

i mentioned the recent confusion about my intimidating guns and the clever solution that i solved it with to steve, and he helpfully illustrated my success. 

i knit that sweater myself you guys, im very proud. 

BTS Reaction ; Falling For You While Being in A Relationship

Requested by Anonymous, “Hello, I love your blog so much! You’re such a talented writer! Can I request a reaction to BTS falling for one of their friends (who is the reader/OC) while they have a girlfriend? Sorry if my english is weird. Thank you and I love you! 💖💖💖”

Note; jdfks YOUR ENGLISH IS FINE AND I LOVE YOU TOO!


Jin ➳ It’s been awhile since he realized he had feelings for you and he was terrified. He knew he had to choose one, his best friend or his significant other — but it was hard for him, too afraid to confront his girlfriend and leave a mess he’d rather not clean up. He loves you, spending every passing day with you and even cancelling meet ups with his girlfriend like she was nothing but a nuissance. His phone always kept ringing with texts, and when he finally got tired of it one day as he forced the device to slumber when you both went out to eat, you finally ask him about it. “Is it your girlfriend calling?” You ask with a teasing smile as he blows on his steaming soup.

“Nah,” he whispers, sliding the phone into his pocket, “it’s no one important.”

Originally posted by yoongichii


Suga ➳ The moment Yoongi realized he was falling for you, he had ended it with his girlfriend right then and there. He wasn’t going to lead someone on when his heart belonged to someone else, and even if you didn’t know about his feelings — he didn’t care in the slightest. He invited you to the studio and dorms plenty of times, and he would be smiling more often, teasing you and just basking in the beauties of you. It was one day when you two were in the studio alone, that you finally notice his gaze burning holes into your soul. “What?” You snap, annoyed, and he simply sways his arms nervously as he smiles admiringly.

“I love you.”

Originally posted by minsecretsoul


J-Hope ➳ It was just a simple crush that prolonged as wine overfilled his glass and intoxicated him, permanately drunk on you. Being with you made him happy, but he was way too afraid to leave his girlfriend due to the aftermath — and the cruel reality that you may never return his feelings had obsidian ink dripping into half of his heart. He always left you at abrupt times, never trusting himself around you as his body begged to touch yours, and when he got up to calm his flushed cheeks and fluttering heart, you raised an eyebrow, thinking he was sick. “Are you okay?” The question drips from your lips and freezes him, quickly feigning a smile and refusing to stare you in the eyes.

“Yep.” Hell no.

Originally posted by bangtannoonas


RapMonster ➳ “So how is she?”

And the question alone makes his stomach drop. How is she? His girlfriend? He didn’t know, his eyes only staring into yours that seemed to calm him many of times, making him feel at ease as if they were home — and before he can even realize what he says, the next words casually leave his vocal chords. “Broken.”

“What?” You ask, eyebrows knitting together as you tilt your head to the side in confusion.

“(y/n), I broke up with her a while back,” he confesses, because it is true, he just never deemed it necessary to let others know, “because..I realized I was in love with you.”

Originally posted by jeonbase


Jimin ➳ He couldn’t help himself, and he was even disgusted with himself. His feelings bloomed with each passing day, the floret growing bigger and stronger and refusing to wilt. He is way too nice to leave his girlfriend even though he knew all he felt was attraction towards her, but with you..he is in love with you. Deeply. “Like the stars, you’re beautiful.” He says as you both sit in the back of his truck during the night, and immediately, you become flustered.

“Oh shut up, you ass,” you laugh, pushing his shoulder but he quickly grabs your hand.

“I’m being honest,” a genuine smile forms on his lips as he looks into your eyes, “how do you look so beautiful all the time?”

Originally posted by yoonmin


VI’m traditional, is his excuse to everything, especially to leaving his girlfriend he was way too afraid to confront like a man and leave. His feelings for you were obvious, his replies to you becoming even shier and shorter, rectangular smiles nearly ripping the skin on his cheeks as he would playfully try to put his hands on you as they ached to feel the sparks he felt whenever they touched your warm skin. He was even more playful, and one day when you two fall off the couch of the dark living room, falling into his chest while becoming a giggling mess from his tickle attack — you try to get up after having calmed down only for his arms to instantly wrap tightly around the small of your back and pull you flush against his chest.

“Just a little longer,” his deep voice breathes, “please.”

Originally posted by bangtannoonas


Jungkook ➳ “You’re not my boyfriend.”

And he stiffens as those words, even if you giggled them, leave your mouth as they used his heart like a punching bag. You’re not my boyfriend. He sits there, slumping into the couch he sits on defeatedly as your eyes settle on Taehyung from across the party, telling him that you were going to spend time with the older man and Jungkook knew where this was going. He was jealous, and he didn’t want you to go, grabbing your arm with such force to keep you seated beside him even if his girlfriend was watching you two from afar. But you were right, he wasn’t yours, you weren’t his and you never will be.

And regretfully, he stares into his lap as he whispers, “I wish I was.”

Originally posted by bangtannoonas


Masterlist

Bts | Reaction | Privacy

[ one can only imagine lol hope you enjoy and thank you for requesting!! ]

Rated (SM) for slightly mature.


Seokjin 

➸ There was nothing rushed during your little shower session, Jin was definitely going to take his time with you. Thankful he had time off to spend with you, he wanted to make it last for a long as he could - from slow kisses to the slow rhythm of his hips as he easily slid into your entrance. Soft moans would fall from each of your lips as they barely separated from one another, you hands caressing his face while his would travel from your thighs, hips, to waist. He didn’t leave any patch of skin untouched, neither did you. Everything about this moment was perfect and filled with bliss. It was as if the whole world had stopped for the two of you…but unfortunately, that’s unrealistic thinking. 

“Could you two stop blowing up the goddamn water bill?” 

Jin nearly drops you at the sound of Yoongi’s voice, you letting out a small squeak as he presses you even farther into the wall, his chest smushing into yours to hide you away from the sudden intruder. 

“Yah, Suga! Why didn’t you knock, that’s so rude!” 

“So is using up all the hot water. Do it in the bedroom, like normal fucking people.” 

Yoongi 

➸ You’ve been needy all day, and when he was finally home, you weren’t wasting a second more. He wasn’t complaining - hell - he was hoping you were in the mood anyways. Things didn’t take long to escalate as Yoongi had no trouble taking you from behind, smirking lazily at the sounds you didn’t even bother to cover up. 

“That’s it, baby, let me hear how good you feel…” 

Constant whispers of unholy things were enough to increase the volume of your moans, not taking into consideration that you two wouldn’t exactly be alone for much longer. Not even 30 seconds have passed when a harsh knock came to the door, but Yoongi didn’t falter into his thrusts - he didn’t even stop. As he continued to pound into you, he answered to whoever was at the door. 

“I’m busy.” 

“Yeah, we know! We all heard you from the front door! The FRONT DOOR, Yoongi! Could you keep it down a little?” 

Min Yoongi grins so devilishly at the back of your head, you could feel chills run down your spine. Gripping your hair tightly to tug your neck backward, you could now see the mischievous look in his eyes; he was up to no good. 

“Sure, no problem.” Without even missing a beat, Yoongi starts back up again at an inhuman amount of speed, finally hitting that one spot over and over again that both made you see stars, and scream at the top of your lungs. By now, the neighbors could probably hear the two of you as well. 

“Is this down enough for you?” They could practically hear his shit-eating grin, all glaring at the door as it seemed that now there was no stopping him. 

He was smart enough to lock the door. 

Namjoon 

➸ The two of you just couldn’t wait; didn’t even get fully undressed until after you stepped into the shower. Namjoon watched you intensely as he undressed you from your now drenched shirt, licking his lips at the mere sight of the water dripping down your body rapidly. 

“Fuck, I’ve missed you, jagi…” He groans before pulling you closer to continue the make-out session you started in the living room. Reaching in between the two of you, you eagerly gripped his already throbbing member causing a strained moan to escape past his lips in surprise. 

Namjoon practically panted in your mouth as your pace picked up in no time, him letting you touch him for as long as you wanted as he placed one hand to the wall to keep his balance. 

“Namjoon, did you break my headphon-OH. OH OH OH I AM SO SORRY. IGNORE ME, YOU SEEM BUSY, ILL ASK LATER BYE.” Hoseok flailed, almost slipping on the rug on his way out, almost forgetting where the door knob was as he dramatically exited the bathroom. 

Both you and Namjoon stared at the door with raised eyebrows, him shrugging his shoulders while you giggled softly while shaking your head. That small interruption didn’t kill the mood at all for the two of you, as he stared down at you with lust filled eyes and a slanted smirk. 

“On your knees, babygirl.” 

Hoseok

➸ It was the end of your anniversary date, which consisted of dinner and a movie. He wanted the night to be perfect, and boy did he deliver. Hoseok was nothing but romantic and gentle with you all night, everything just all cuddly and calm. The warm water that cascaded down your still clothed figures felt so relaxing - his soft kisses that trailed from the side of your face to your neck almost had you practically melting in his arms. Your hands ran through his damp hair, while his were placed firmly on your hips, as the two of you basically slow danced in the shower. 

“You’re too good for me, Hobi…how did I get so lucky?” 

He chuckles softly, now nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck. “That’s my line, jagi…I should be asking you that.” 

It didn’t take long for his sweet kisses to turn into sucks, as he marked all of your favorite spots that he’s memorized all too well. Your bite your lip to keep quiet, knowing good and well that the others were in the bed by now…or were they? 

“I’m telling you, Jin-hyung, I turned off the shower an hour ag-OH HOLY SHIT!” As quick as the door came open, it was slammed shut. You and Hoseok now stared at the door in pure horror, covering each other up - even though neither of you was naked yet. Quickly turning off the shower, Hoseok steps out right as Jin opened the door once again - only this time with his eyes covered. By now, Jungkook ran back to his room in embarrassment. 

“I don’t care what you two were about to do in here, it’s none of my business. But, for the sake of Jungkook, and my innocent eyeballs - could you lock the door next time?” 

Jimin 

➸ Just like Hoseok, it was more a soothing type of shower session between the two of you. He sat on the shower bench while you straddled his lap, your bra still intact as Jimin just teased the straps, him smiling teasingly in the kiss as you hissed at him when he would tug it far, only to then let them snap back against your wet skin. 

“Jimin, I swear to God if you do that one more time, I’ll-”

“You’ll what, baby, huh?” His smile drops as he dared you to finish that threat, the hands that were placed upon your upper back now dangerously low on your ass - giving you a warning squeeze. “Did you forget who you talking to for a moment there? Does daddy need to punish you?” 

Before you could even respond, you could see the color drain from his face as his eyes drifted to something that was behind you. Tilting your head to the side in confusion, you turn to see what he was looking at, only to let out a scream in shock. Taehyung stood there in complete horror, unfortunately walking in at the wrong time. 

“I-I…I have no words…”

“Tae…how much did you hear?” Jimin gulps, afraid that his friend might have just discovered a little too much about himself. 

“Enough to where I want to shove pencils in my ears. Dinner’s ready, by the way, but it looks to me you’re already about to eat-”

“Y A H.” Jimin exclaims, Tae shooting his hands up in surrender as he starts to exit the bathroom with still a look of horror on his face. “Don’t tell anyone about this, please. I’m begging you.”

He shrugs, a small smirk starting to creep upon his lips. “Will daddy punish me if I do-”

“sTOP.” 

Taehyung 

➸ It was, at first, a solo shower. You had just gotten home from work, your day already starting off shitty - but that really took the cake. Not only did most of your co-workers call in sick, but they did it on the day where you have the most crowds. You were practically drowning in stress that you almost punched a costumer in the face. In conclusion : worst day ever. 

The dorm was empty by the time you got there, mentally thanking the man up in the sky that at least you came home to some peace and quiet for once. The warm water was exactly what you needed, but yet it wasn’t enough to fully relax you. Sighing heavily at the fact of not being completely satisfied, you lean forward to turn the water off - feeling defeat. It wasn’t until you felt a pair of cold hand grab your waist, and spin you around did you accidentally turn it to freezing ice water before letting out a small scream. Taehyung doesn’t hesitate to seal you screams with a kiss, letting you register that it was only him as you finally calmed down. 

“You jackass, don’t do that! One of these days I’m gonna stab you!” You couldn’t help but giggle as he started placing kisses all over your face, your lips trembling as the cold water draped over your bodies. 

“With what? Soap? Your shampoo bottle?” He teased, while continuing to place kisses anywhere and everywhere. “You looked a little down, so you can’t tell me that didn’t brighten you mood up just a little bit, jagi.” 

You wanted to punch him for almost giving you a heart attack, but you were happy to see him. Taehyung was actually the last puzzle piece to help turn this sour day back to sweet. Leaning into him closer to further his pecks into something more, the door to the bathroom was practically kicked in, and in came six out of the seven members as they all rushed into the small bathroom - Jimin holding a bat, while Hoseok started swinging at the air. 

“Y/n! Are you alright?! We heard you scream and- oh.” Namjoon pushed his way in, only to see that it wasn’t what they thought at all. “Seriously? Why can’t you do this at your own place - some of us have to shower in there, too!” 

Jungkook 

➸ You moaned into his mouth shamelessly at the pleasure he was giving you, the rushed movements of your mouths only making the bathroom much more steamier than the hot water. He wanted to use up all the time he had with you, knowing that his hyungs would be home soon, Jungkook wanted to use this opportunity to make noise as much as possibly. With one hand he held your wrists together, while the other rubbed your clit in slow circles, the water giving spectacular lubrication as you whimpered at the feeling. 

“Jungkook…p-please…” 

“Please what, Y/n? You’re gonna have to be more specific~” 

“Please g-go faster, please..!” You would cry, the teasing no longer tolerable as you were now reduced to begging. You would give anything to cum, even so much as scream his name while his hyungs were home. Be careful what you wish for. 

“Jungkook, are you watching porn again?” Jimin opens the door, only for both his eyes and mouth to completely bust wide open in shock. Jungkook being Jungkook quickly pulled away from you to cover himself up - only to then realize that you were naked as well, to then cover you up away from Jimin’s amused stare. 

“J-Jimin, don’t tell Jin-hyung! W-We were just uh…saving water?” 

“Oh, don’t worry, Kookie. I won’t tell him that you’re committing unholy things in his bathroom.” Not even five seconds later, “SEOKJIN! GUESS WHO’S MAKING BABIES IN YOUR SHOWER.” 

Jungkook, not even giving a shit anymore, would practically run after Jimin naked - leaving you to stand in the confused and sexually frustrated. 

tony stark, a certified baby-cuddler

everyone needs more tony and babies in their life, right? have a fic. because tony canonically goes to hospitals and hugs babies who need it. (for mobile users, there’s a read-more after a few paragraphs)


Tony Stark isn’t new to kids, not exactly.

He’s always tried to visit paediatric wards when he had a moment, letting the kids play with the armours and telling them stories. He helped Reed and Sue with babysitting, and he remembers Val’s first attempts at building microprocessors. He held a newborn Danielle Cage in his arms and he marvelled at how tiny she was. He’s always glad to help his baby Avengers with homework.

He likes kids. He might never have his own, and he tells himself he’s made his peace with that, but he likes kids and he likes spending time with them, from babies and toddlers to I’m-not-a-kid-anymore teenagers.

And the moments he spends with kids never get any less special.

Keep reading

wingardium-letmefuckyou  asked:

Hey, I love your gods&monsters series, could you write something about Apollo? ^Preferably something with a positive vibe, something romantic... But that's totally up to you, anything about Apollo makes me happy

Apollo has many sons.

He only ever has nine daughters.

~

He has his first when he’s young, too young to know better.

Daphne is beautiful and coy, and leads him on a merry chase. He catches her, and finally silences her laughing mouth with his own. They sleep together, and she leaves bite marks up his neck.

Her father, the river god Peneus, finds out about them. Apollo had not known it was secret. Peneus is a hard, selfish god, and he slits Daphne’s throat for her impurity. Better a dead daughter then one who does not listen.

Apollo finds out too late. He arrives to Daphne dead on the side of her father’s riverbank, stomach swollen in a way Apollo doesn’t remember it being the last time he saw her, which was – which was – it couldn’t have been that long, could it?

He cuts open her stomach, throat too tight to call for his sister’s help, heart too tight to bear anyone else looking at Daphne’s slack, bloody face.

The child is still warm.

The child is still alive.

He cannot bring himself to bury Daphne, to sentence her to an afterlife beneath the earth. Instead, he transforms her into a large laurel tree, so her beauty will remain eternal. He presses a hand against her trunk and says, “My hair will have you, my lyre will have you, my quiver will have you.” Apollo looks down at the baby, too small, tucking into the crook of his arm. “Our daughter will have you.”

He calls her Calliope. Their daughter weaves laurel leaves into her hair every day of her life.

~

When he is older, but not wiser, he gets drunk on the top of Olympus. It is not the first time, nor the last, but this time it is different.

This time Hestia, goddess of the hearth, of warmth, of family, places her delicate hand around the back of his neck and leads him to her rooms.

Months later, he lands his chariot, the sun finally set. His arms are shaking, and his legs are covered from burns when the sun grew tired and tried to consume him, but could not. Hestia stands before him, something held in her arms. “What’s wrong?” he asks roughly, throat dry and the skin of his lips cracking. Hestia rarely leaves Olympus.

“I am no mother,” she tells him, and he doesn’t understand until she places a warm, squirming bundle in his arms. He holds it to his chest automatically. “Her name is Terpsichore.”

She leaves before he has the chance to question her. He looks down, and the baby has his golden eyes and her dark hair. “Hello, little one.”

Calliope is fully grown now. Apollo leaves Terpsichore in her care, and promises to come when called.

“Yes, Father,” Calliope says, rolling her eyes as her little sister grabbing fistfuls of her curly hair. There’s an ink smudge across her face, and her home is bursting with books. He should really talk to Athena about letting Calliope use one of her libraries.

He kisses both their foreheads before leaving.

~

Apollo falls in love with a Spartan prince, graceful and strong and with a wide, pretty mouth. He falls in love with a mind that can match him, with a smile that leaves him breathless. Hyacinth captures his affections and attentions utterly, and for a few short years Apollo is enchanted, for a few short years Apollo feels a love deep in his chest that is only surpassed by the love he has for his sister.

Then Hyacinth is killed.

He shows up at his daughters’ door, and Calliope and Terpsichore take one look at him and usher him inside. He can’t bring himself to speak, but he’s covered in blood that isn’t his own, is pale and shaken and mourning.

They clean him and care for him and settle him to bed, although he cannot bring himself to sleep.

Less than a week later, there is a mortal woman there looking for him. Her eyes are red, but she stands tall and her lips are pressed into a straight line. A toddler who shares her dark coloring clutches her skirt. “I am the Princess of Sparta, and wife of Hyacinth.”

Apollo hadn’t known Hyacinth had a wife. He hadn’t asked. Surely he would have noticed – but then again, perhaps not. Love makes people stupid. “I am sorry for your loss.”

“As I am sorry for yours,” she says in return, which surprises him. “Sparta must have a prince. I am to be remarried.” She brings the little girl forward, and she can’t be more than a couple years old. “This is Urania, the child of myself and my husband. I have been ordered to kill her.”

Apollo flinches. He knows such things are done, but – she is Hyacinth’s daughter. “I will take her.”

She smiles. “I thought you might.” She kisses the girl on both cheeks, hands her to Apollo, then leaves as quickly as she’d came.

Urania watches them with big liquid eyes that she got from her mother. He stays with his daughters for a year after that, playing with Urania and watching Terpsichore dance and listening to Calliope’s beautiful poetry. Urania loves the stars. She stares up at them each night, and Apollo patiently explains the name of each one.

When she is fully grown, he begs a piece of ambrosia off Hestia and feeds it to her.

Urania is his daughter as surely as if his blood ran through her veins. He cannot bear to watch her age and die.

~

Marpessa chooses Ida over him, but it is too late. She already swells with his child, and he could use that to keep her. He could force her to stay at his side, she loves him, she said so, it would not be such a cruel thing.

But she is not wrong in her assessment. Apollo is immortal, and will not grow old with her, will not change with her, will not die with her. Ida will.

There’s fear on her face, and he thinks she deserves it, for proclaiming to love him and choosing another. But he is not interested in keeping her captive for a lifetime.

“Have the child, and give it to me,” he commands, “and I will leave you to your life.”

Ida is furious in his jealousy that Marpessa will bear a child for Apollo before she bears a child for him, so there is that comfort, at least.

Artemis delivers the child to ensure it goes smoothly. She’s beaming as she holds her niece. “What will you call her?”

“You choose,” he says, running the back of his finger over the babe’s soft cheek.

His sister considers the squalling child for a long moment before she says, “I think you should name her Thalia.”

“Thalia it is,” he says.

She’s mischievous, and reminds him of himself on his worst days. She grows, and pulls pranks on nymphs and deities. Her older sisters are constantly straining to keep her out of worse trouble.

He gets a frantic message from Calliope that Thalia has gone missing, and he eventually finds her at the edge of a scorched battlefield, the soldiers long gone but the bodies and stench remaining. He’s furious at her for going to a place so dangerous, but when he marches up to her he sees something that he hadn’t expected.

She’s hallway through a story about pranking a wood nymph that he knows is at least half lies and a quarter exaggeration. Curled up on the ground, clutching his stomach as he laughs so hard he can’t breathe, is Ares.

Apollo hasn’t seen the tormented god of war this carefree since he was a child.

Thalia finally notices him, and cuts herself off, paling. “Oh, uh. Hi Dad.”

Ares is downright giggling. “Hello Thalia,” Apollo crosses his arms and glares, “You shouldn’t go wandering away from your sisters.” She winces and nods, ducking her head to look up at him through her eyelashes, doing her best to look contrite and innocent.

It might have worked, if Apollo hadn’t taught her that look himself.

He sits down on the ground next to Ares, who doesn’t acknowledge his presence beyond shifting enough to use Apollo’s thigh as his pillow. “Well,” Apollo says, “keep going.”

Thalia lights up and launches back into the story, and when she finishes she continues into another which is mostly true and somehow even more ridiculous.

~

Because he’s an idiot with a death wish, Apollo ends up spending a month with Hecate in the underworld. He stumbles out one night when she falls asleep, because he feels if he doesn’t leave now there’s a possibility that he never will.

One of the most horrifying moments of his life is looking for the way out, and finding Hades instead. The god of death looks to him, walking around naked in his realm, to the direction he came from, and says, “That was you? Are you crazy?”

“It … it was a good time,” he says faintly.

“Obviously,” Hades shakes his head, and slices his hand down in the air in front of them, creating a doorway for Apollo out of his realm.

Apollo gives him a clumsy salute and steps through.

Roughly a year later, he’s playing his lyre when a little girl with black skin and grey hair and eyes appears in front of him. It’s terrifying enough that he accidentally snaps one of his strings.

“Lady Styx,” he says, voice higher pitched than normal. “Is there something I can help you with?”

The child snorts and reaches her hands into absolutely nothing and pulls out a baby. She holds it out to him. “Hecate says this is your problem now.”

Improbably, the babe already has a mouth full of too-sharp teeth. Her eyes shift between every color, unable to decide, and there is something a little too knowing about her face for one so young. Artemis says he too was born knowing too much.

A child of Apollo and Hecate can only be a mistake, something that will never fit quite well among others of her own kind.

He sighs and take the baby. “Very well.”

“I like the name Clio,” the child goddess says before leaving him.

Thalia tells him it’s too small and to give it back. Urania is fascinated, and takes over most of the child’s care, which is likely for the best since Calliope is neck deep into a new epic, and would be cross if she needed to pull her attention from it to rear a child.

As Clio ages, she stays just as unsettling and strange. Hephaestus shows up around the time she starts breaking into Athena’s libraries, even though stunts like that get people worse than killed. “I don’t know why she gave her to me,” Apollo says as they watch the teenager devouring a stolen tome on the history of the Persian Empire. “Hecate raised you, I don’t understand why she didn’t want to raise her actual daughter.”

“You’re a better parent than she is,” he says thoughtfully. Apollo gives him an unimpressed look, but he says, “I’m serious. Your girls are turning out to be quite lovely – all of them.”

“Of course they are,” he says, nose in the air, but grins when Hephaestus elbows him the side.

By the time she’s an adult, Clio is easily one of the most accomplished scholars to ever exist. She and Athena regularly get into academic debates that last weeks, and scare off anyone from daring to come closer.

She stays strange, and too smart, and Apollo loves her utterly.

~

Apollo is lying on the beach when a large wave overtakes him and drags him into the sea. He struggles for the surface, but can’t seem to shake the waves, and is dragged to the sea floor. He’s a god, so he won’t suffocate, but he’s terrified when the water drags him down to Poseidon’s palace and deposits him in front of his wife. “Apollo,” she says, “I can see what your daughters will become.”

He has no idea what she’s talking about. “Excuse me?”

Amphitrite grabs his jaw and pulls him closer. He doesn’t dare resist. She looks into his eyes, then smirks. “The god of prophecy doesn’t know that which he has wrought. How … ironic.”

“Is it?” he wonders. He really hopes she doesn’t kill him.

“Quite,” she smirks, and with a flick of her wrist she’s naked before him. “I wish for one of your daughters to be mine as well. Lay with me.”

“Uh,” he says eloquently, because Amphitrite has never given her husband any children, he hadn’t even known she could. If he sleeps with her, Poseidon might kill him, regardless of how many people the god of the sea sleeps with that aren’t his wife. But if he refuses her, she might kill him, and it’s not like having sex with Amphitrite is any sort of hardship. She’s as gorgeous as she is terrifying. “Okay.”

He’s deposited back on the shore the next day, feeling oddly used.

If Poseidon has any opinions on Apollo knocking up his wife, he doesn’t voice them.

Amphitrite doesn’t foist the baby upon him as soon as she’s born. Instead years pass, and one day a dark skinned, amber eyed sea god shows up at his door. There’s a teenager at his side, who has Apollo’s coloring and Amphitrite’s bone structure, and hair that shimmers golden-green in sunlight. “Glaucus,” Apollo greets warily, “and who might this be?”

“I call her Erato,” Glaucus says, “I’ve raised her since birth. It’s time for her to join her sisters.”

Erato is not as terrifying as her mother. Instead there’s a sweetness about her that she must have gotten from Glaucus. She’s shy at first, and spends many days looking out into the sea. But his daughters are persistent, and soon she’s laughing and joining them. There’s something dreamy about her, and she loves love, writes romantic ballads and beautiful poems, so much so that Aphrodite commends her talent.

Erato is also the most like him in the area of her love life, meaning she leaves behind a constant trail of heartbroken men and women.

Calliope complains about the constant wailing around their home, and Clio proves she has some of her mother’s talent with magic when she casts an unplotable spell around their home so former lovers stop following Erato home. Of course, she forgets to tell both Apollo and her sisters about this, and it’s very confusing for everyone until Clio remembers to tell them where the house is.

His daughters’ home is a place of constant music, poetry, and literature. He thinks he’s starting to suspect what Amphitrite was talking about.

~

Not all hunts are easy things.

Apollo feels the moment his sister is wounded, the arrow through her abdomen as painful for him as it is for her. He’s in his chariot, and he can’t leave it, if he leaves his chariot unattended the sun will consume it, and then consume the earth. “Calliope!” he snaps, and his eldest daughter appears by his side.

“Father?” she asks, huddling into him and away from the sun. “What’s going on?”

“Artemis is hurt, I have to help,” he says urgently, and places the reins into her hands. “You can do this.”

She pales, but steps forward, keeping a white knuckled grip on the chariot. “Go.”

He kisses his forehead, and goes to his sister. Her huntresses have set up an honor guard around her, defending and dying as cruel faced giants draws closer. “ARES!” he screams, and he doesn’t know what they’re fighting for, what this war is about, but it doesn’t matter. “WE NEED YOU!”

The god of war appears, and he’s clearly come from some other battle, covered in mud and other worse things. He throws himself into the battle, but it’s not until they gain more aid that the tides turn in their favor.

He first sees Erato on the field, water swirling around her as she slices through them all, the power of her mother making her golden eyes glow. Clio is at her back, the glittering magic Hecate passed on to her filling her hands.

Thalia has long curved knives flying from her fingers, and all who face her don’t figure out they’re dead until she’s already left them behind. Urania is letting loose arrows against the giants and though she’s not his by blood, not a goddess by birth, none would know it watching each of her arrows hit true and take down another enemy.

Terpsichore uses her honed abilities of dance differently here on the battlefield, twirling and ducking around enemies with her sword flashing as it slices through all who go against her. Celestial fire licks up the sword, and the daughter of Hestia and Apollo is laughing as she dances through the battlefield.

He wants to yell at them, to tell them to get off the battlefield, to get to safety. But it is thanks to them that the fight is being won, so he says nothing.

Ares looks around, grimaces, and catches Apollo’s eye before he disappears from the battle. They must be invoking his name. Apollo is only grateful he managed to stay as long as he did.

The giants are all dead by the time Apollo manages to make it to his sister’s side. She’s pale and covered in blood, her huntresses seated around her and trying to stop the bleeding. “What were you thinking?” Apollo demands, grabbing her hand and pushing her hair from her forehead. Terpsichore comes forward and lays her burning sword against the wound, sealing and cauterizing it at once. Both Apollo and Artemis scream

“They – took – a – child,” she pants, leaning in for his touch, for his comfort, and he has never been able to deny her anything. He pulls her up, biting back a scream at the pain that rips through them both, and props her up against his chest. “A – nymph’s child. Zeus’s child. They killed – it’s mother. That – that sort of injustice will – will not be – tolerated.” She lays her head back against his shoulder, tears leaking from the corner of her eyes, and Apollo almost wishes the battle were not over, because he wants to murder something.

“I’ll get it,” Erato says, and a moment later she returns with a toddler in her arms. She has the copper skin of Zeus, and pale blonde hair. “What do we do now? Zeus does not care for his children.”

“I think it’s time you became a big sister,” Thalia says, and Erato looks stricken. “Right Dad?”

He looks to his sister, who nods. “I can think of no better place for her. She cannot stay with me – a hunting party is not place for children.”

“Very well,” he sighs. “Does she have a name?”

The girl attempts to hide behind Erato’s hair, then says, “I am Euterpe.”

“Welcome, Euterpe,” he says.

It’s then that the sun finally sets, and Calliope stumbles into existence next to them. She’s covered in deep, bleeding burns, but it’s not as bad he feared it would be. She’s certainly faired better at her first time driving the chariot than he had. “What’s happening? Is everything all right?”

“We have a new sister,” Thalia says brightly, even as Clio rushes forward to tend to her burns.

Euterpe, thankfully, seems to inherit none of Zeus’s madness. She has a singing voice like a clear bell, and soon surpasses even Calliope’s talent with the lyre.

He knows, technically, that Euterpe is his half-sister. But it takes him no time at all to regard her as his daughter, to love her with same simple ferocity as he loves her sisters.

~

For a while, all is well, is quiet. His daughters are all fully grown, accomplished and beautiful.

Then Demeter corners him when he’s walking through quiet city and pins him against an alley wall. “If Amphitrite thinks she can one up me over this,” the goddess hisses, “she’s sorely mistaken.”

At least this time he knows what’s going on when Demeter starts pulling her dress off. “You can’t raise the child,” he says. He’s not adverse to laying with Demeter, although at this rate it looks like there will be less laying and more standing against a rough alley wall. But Demeter only knows how to love in a way that crushes all it touches. He won’t let her do that to his child.

“Fine,” she snaps, “Now get moving.”

He’s vaguely terrified the whole time, and it mostly reminds him of his month with Hecate. He’s left alone and naked in the alleyway an hour later.

Nine months later, a baby is delivered to his door by a nervous wood nymph. His daughter still has the squashed appearance of a freshly born baby. “She didn’t waste any time,” he comments, settling her into the crook of his arms. “Does she have a name?”

“Polyhymnia, my lord,” the wood nymph says, then bows before fleeing.

He brings her to the home where all his daughters live.

She grows, and she’s the spitting image of Demeter, of Persephone back when she answered to the name Kore. Her voice is lower than Euterpe’s, but just as pretty and when they sing together it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. She’s quiet, and thoughtful, her big brown eyes watching all around her with a measured stare.

Polyhymnia asks after her mother, something none of the others had done, and Apollo doesn’t know what to say. The truth is too callous, but he can’t bear to lie to her. Instead he begs an audience with Persephone, and says, “Your sister asks after the mother you share. I don’t know what to tell her.”

Persephone has no advice to offer, but she starts spending some of her time outside of the underworld with Polyhymnia. It is enough, and her questions stop, and Apollo tries not to feel guilty that he never really answered them.

~

Cassandra is unlike any woman he’s ever met, unlike any person he’s ever met, and the flames of love and passion burn inside him in a way they haven’t since his Hyacinth died.

She’s bull headed and irritating, and whenever he tries to complain about it Artemis rolls her eyes and his daughters laugh at him. He supposes he’s not doing a very good job hiding that he’s in love with her. Not even from her, because at one point she crossly asks if he’s ever planning to do anything with her, or if she should accept the offer from the butcher’s son.

They don’t leave her house for five days.

She is curious, hungry for knowledge, hungrier for it then she is of him. She wants to know impossible things, wants to be an impossible thing, and so Apollo laughs and takes her hand and says, “I will make you a bargain. I will give you the gift of prophecy, if you will grant me the gift of your hand.”

He’s never take a bride before. He hasn’t wanted to.

Cassandra is screaming and laughing, and she throws her arms around his neck and kisses him until she’s breathless. He takes it as a yes.

That’s when everything goes horribly, incredibly wrong.

It’s too much, all the horror she sees is too much, and Apollo tries to tell her to focus on the good, to see the happiness of the future. But she can’t, gets too caught up in too many wars, and she wastes away in front of his eyes even as her stomach swells.

He tries to take back the gift, tries to save her, but he can’t. It cannot be ungiven, and his headstrong, vivacious lover fades before his eyes. He only manages to alter it, to change it so no one believes the horrible things she cries to prevent the horror people feel when she looks at them and screams the way that they’ll die.

Artemis helps deliver their child, but halfway through her face goes pinched and worried, and Apollo knows that Cassandra won’t make it.

“I’m sorry,” he weeps, kissing her gaunt face, feeling the sharpness of her cheekbones under his lips, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know this would happen. I didn’t want this to happen.”

She looks at him with glassy eyes, barely reacts when Artemis places their child on her chest. There’s a growing pool of blood under her, but she can’t be saved, she will die, here, now.

Apollo wonders if she saw this coming.

She blinks, and meets his gaze with a sharpness and awareness he hasn’t seen for a long time. “She is your last daughter,” Cassandra says, “Melpomene is the last daughter you will have.”

He kisses her, his last chance to do so.

She’s dead before his lips leaves hers.

Apollo tries to flee, to run from the claws tearing apart his heart, but Artemis doesn’t let him. She yanks him back and pushes Melpomene into his arms. “You can’t leave,” she says harshly, “She needs you. Your daughter needs you. You’re not allowed to run.”

He crumples, leaning his head onto his sister’s shoulder as he sobs, and her calloused hand grasps the back of his neck. Melpomene is stuck between them, soft and warm and alive.

Time passes.

Melpomene is Thalia’s other half, her best friend, and they do everything together. Her dark hair is a mass of unruly curls just like her mother, her laughter is just like her mother’s.

She, like her sisters, is his pride and his joy.

~

Apollo has nine daughters

Calliope, who reigns over written epics.

Terpsichore, who reigns over dance.

Urania, who reigns over astronomy.

Thalia, who reigns over comedy.

Clio, who reigns over history.

Erato, who reigns over love poetry.

Euterpe, who reigns over song.

Polyhymnia, who reigns over hymns.

Melpomene, who reigns over tragedy.

They are known as the Muses.


gods and monster series, part xxi

read more of the gods and monsters series here

Better Latte than Never

it’s my birthday!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THE 21ST OF SEPTEMBER IS FINALLY HERE, and that means a fic!!! have a destiel coffee shop AU on me. <3

“What are you having?” Castiel asked with a smile, and Dean’s stomach flipped.

“Um. Regular latte,” he managed to say, and smiled.

“Regular latte,” Castiel repeated. “Coming right up.” He turned away, and began to prepare Dean’s drink, tanned hands picking up a plain white cup which he spun into position onto the coffee machine, glancing up to see whether Dean had noticed. Dean smiled, hoping it came across as ‘impressed’ and not ‘totally smitten’.

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other behind the cafe counter, Dean waited for his latte to be ready. He preferred espresso, if he was honest - but lattes took longer to drink, and just recently, Dean had found himself becoming a professional in the niche field of ‘reasons to take a long time over drinking a coffee in a small cafe’. He’d never even liked coffee that much - it had always been more of a necessary evil, utilized when he’d pushed his sleeping schedule beyond the reasonable limit - but that was something that he’d conveniently forgotten, just recently.

In fact, he could date this very specific amnesia to the exact moment that he’d walked through the door of this tiny cafe, tired in the middle of a long day at work and gasping for something to drink on his lunch break. That had been the first time he’d come, but there had been a second time, and a third… and now it was almost a whole month later, and Dean was still coming in every day.

He wished he could say that it was the coffee at Better Latte Than Never that kept him coming back. The coffee was good – or at least, Dean thought it was, though he was no expert - he hadn’t exactly sampled a whole lot of different brands. In fact, recently, he hadn’t even bothered buying his usual packet of filter coffee when he went grocery shopping. He spent so much time in Better Latte Than Never that he was starting to genuinely worry about the effects of overcaffeination.

After all, maybe those effects included giddiness, and butterflies in his stomach, and a heart rate through the roof, all of which Dean had been experiencing on a daily basis - but if he was honest, Dean didn’t think he could blame the coffee so much as the maker of the coffee for the symptoms.

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summersaltturn  asked:

"Have anyone told you you have the most intimidating nostrils I've ever seen?"

“Yeah, I won an award, junior year,” Derek answers, frowning at his new IKEA (bought and built, all in a soft Henley sweater; Stiles knows, he supervised) book-shelf, like he hasn’t just finished a seven hundred page tome on Egyptian artefacts. A seven hundred page tome on Egyptian artefacts alone.

Derek Hale: epic nerd and assembler of easy-to-build IKEA products. Of course, Stiles thinks, cursing his stupid Professor and DIY kinks. Why not? The worst part is, he doesn’t even think those kinks are sexual. It’s just….a thing. That he has. A Derek thing. The Butterflies That Live In His Stomach were trying so desperately to move on with their lives, too. They’d shopped around. Hired a real-estate agent. They were ready, goddammit!  

Derek settles on a book - Stiles is pretty sure it also has the word ‘artefacts’ in the title - and sighs, all feigned nostalgia, and glances over his shoulder. “It was a golden nose, too. Across the bottom it said,” he pauses, grinning, “Stiles Stilinski needs to get a life.”

Stiles opens his mouth, clutches his chest, because rude much? Is it his fault Derek’s nostrils belong in some kind of anatomy museum? Is it his fault his Saturday nights are spent playing video games in his underwear, when his week days are spent chasing down monsters and researching things like how Scott and Erica managed to contract chicken pox when stabbing them does, like, nothing? (Except get Erica excited because she’s a beautiful, terrifying weirdo.) The moment he tries to tell Derek this, however, a copy of - is that Pride and Prejudice? - is thrown at his head. 

Stiles doesn’t know if he’s more offended when Derek rolls his eyes when it misses him, or the concerned look that crosses his face when the book sails past him and lands in an empty pizza box, like Derek is worried if it’s okay or not. 

And to think, Stiles was going to screw up his courage and finally invite Derek to see a movie this weekend. In an actual theatre. Where people go to be normal. Well, the laugh is on Derek because Stiles is going to buy the big popcorn and he’s going to enjoy it all on his own. 

Yeah, that’ll show him. 

~

“Has anyone ever told you your eyebrows could star in a disturbing kid’s movie about caterpillars?” 

Stiles is drunk. No, he’s wasted. Hammered. Loaded. Completely and utterly shit faced. Which is probably why instead of ending up on his ass on the floor, Derek just pinches the bridge of his nose, tips his head against the back of the couch and says, “what.” Not even a hint of inflection.

This dude, Stiles thinks, and then laughs because, ohmygod, Derek is this dude now. Not that dude or whoa, what are you doing crawling through my window, dude? but this dude. And that’s kind of beautifully heart warming, in its own way. 

Really, Stiles should write into Hallmark. It could be a trilogy. A Gay Trilogy ™. Bisexuals on ice. Except, without the ice because Stiles doesn’t know how to skate. Can Derek skate? Stiles totally bets Derek can skate.   

Speaking of Derek, he’s got this little crinkle on his forehead now, right between his eyebrows, and man, they really are very nice eyebrows. Animated but nice. A little dramatic but nice. Murderous but nice.

“What,” Derek says again, looking more confused than annoyed by the second. Stiles really wants to kiss him.

Instead, he stares. Stares and stares and stares.

Shit.

Slapping a hand over his mouth, he begins laughing uncontrollably and before he knows it, he’s clutching his sides and has his face pressed against Derek’s chest, because the hilarity is killing him. 

Because this is them now. Drinking peach-snaps at Derek’s loft, on a couch filled with throw pillows. Throw pillows. One is even soft and pink and frilly and another has a picture of the pack on it. Granted, no one is looking at the camera but Derek, Boyd and Kira and Derek is not so much looking at the camera as yelling at Stiles (holding the camera) for eating his secret stash of cookies, but it’s nice. It’s a nice picture. There is a plain black pillow too, of course. Somewhere. Stiles might be sitting on it, actually. He figures one can only expect so much when it comes to sour-wolves but Erica glued little cat ears on it last week and Derek said nothing. Fuck, he’d even smiled.

It says a lot about what a secret softie Derek is when it comes to vulnerable, drunk-ass people, because he doesn’t push Stiles away; just lets him laugh and laugh until he passes out, drooling on his chest. 

When Stiles wakes up, Derek’s sweater is pretty soaked through but he hasn’t moved an inch. He does, however, tell Stiles he snores like a deranged goose and that he owes him a pastry later.

He doesn’t even ask for a specific kind, Stiles chastises in his head, falling back to sleep. He’s in love with a pastry idiot. 

~

“Do you know when you smile, you brighten up the whole damn room?”

The question clearly catches Derek off guard because he falls head first…into a duck pond. 

Stiles’ first reaction is to jump in after him - he hates to admit it, but he gets a little nervous around water when Derek is with him; there have been several incidents where he’s unconsciously grabbed Derek’s hand in order to drag him away from pools and, one time, a very large puddle - but when Derek emerges, wearing his someone is about to die face, Stiles can’t be held accountable for the way he falls to the ground because, yup, that’s a tiny, outraged duckling perched on top of Derek’s head.   

“Oh my god,” he yells, rolling onto his back and kicking his legs in the air. He feels like a kid, grabbing his stomach, water practically pouring from his eyes. This was, quite possibly, the best day of his life.

Normally, Derek would be yelling threats - several, in fact, some in Spanish because he’s a show off - but he just stands there….in the middle of a fucking pond. The duckling is still sitting on his head, like he or she plans to set up home there and it’s so adorable Stiles thinks he actually coos out loud.

Still, Derek still doesn’t say anything. Not even when Stiles coos again, very, very deliberately. (And Scott said his middle name could never be Danger, pffft.) Stiles can’t actually guess what Derek is going to do but he doesn’t care. He looks a strange cross between wanting to murder someone - namely, Stiles - and a little kid who was told they couldn’t get a puppy only to get one on Christmas day anyway. 

Mostly, he just looks lost. And wet. Very, very wet. Somewhere out there, someone is playing It’s Raining Men and Stiles wants nothing more than to share this glorious moment with them. He’s just in the process of taking out his phone to at least snap a photo to send to the pack when - 

“Did you mean it?” Derek asks, and man, those water droplets just keep on running, don’t they. 

Stiles grins. “Did I mean for you to fall into a pond and adopt a new feathered friend? No but I think we can all agree-” 

Stiles.” 

Derek growls and it would be effective - at least in getting Stiles to help him out of the pond - if it wasn’t for the fact his ears were turning a little pink. A lot pink, actually and - 

Oh.

Sitting up, Stiles drags his butt over to the edge of the pond.

“Yeah,” he says. “I meant it. I mean, smiles can’t literally light up rooms, I know that, but when you smile it’s like…” He sighs and flaps his arms, suddenly nervous, hitting Derek in the process. The duckling practically glares at him and Stiles briefly wonders if he has competition here. 

Right. Better make this good then. He clears his throat. 

“It’s like, everything just makes sense for a little bit, you know? I look at you and it’s not that smiling is rare for you, at least not anymore, but it’s still pretty thrilling to see it and when you do I’m like, that’s some quality shit right there but then I get confused because it’s like, do I wanna punch it? Kiss it? Pet it? Who knows. Usually it depends on what you’re wearing.” 

Derek blinks and Stiles groans because, yeah, he just said that out loud. In real time. To Mr McGrumpy himself. Who is currently not reacting.

Great.

“Uh, I mean,” he attempts to correct himself but it’s too late. Derek is already slowly pulling him in and pressing his lips to his in what is the single most innocent, chaste kiss of Stiles’ life - because, you know, duckling and head movements - but somehow, it still manages to be perfect. 

“Nice,” Stiles whispers, after, waggling his eyebrows.

Derek snorts and kisses him again.

~

“Turn it off,” Derek whines, nuzzling further into Stiles’ neck. “This is why I leave my phone in the kitchen. Like we discussed.

Stiles tries to swat him, ends up kissing his temple. Sue him, he’s tired. “Says the person who can afford to leave their phone in the kitchen. We don’t all have supernatural hearing, asshole.”

Derek whines again. “You also have the worst taste in ringtones.”

Stiles gasps, suddenly sitting up. Well, he tries to. When your boyfriend is made of muscle and is half lying on top of you, it makes moving a lot more difficult. Not that Stiles is really complaining. Much. “I’ll have you know Bushes of Love is a Star Wars parody classic.”    

Derek rolls his eyes, Stiles can feel it, says, “just answer it, sweetums.” 

“Ugh,” Stiles grimaces, “I already told you I’m sorry for the pet-name thing. It was an accident!”

“Calling me your ‘slutty buddy’ in front of your dad was meant as a pet name?”

“It sounded better in my head!”  

Derek groans and wraps an “exasperated” arm around Stiles’ waist. Oh. So. Exasperated. Stiles grins. “Answer. Your. Phone.” 

Stiles finds his phone on the fifth try.

He has fifteen missed calls, all from Erica. Texts too. Every single one is a link to some article online, followed by a string of heart and eggplant emojis.   

Young Love and the Ugly Duckling’,” Stiles reads, clicking on the link. “Uhhh, Derek?” He prods him. 

What.” 

There’s a picture of us in the online Beacon Gazette,” looking into each other’s eyes, like a pair of love sick fools, Stiles wants to add because, wow, is he really that obvious when he looks at Derek? To be fair though, Derek isn’t much better and he is the one with an angry bird on his head.

He prods Derek again and again until he finally gives in, makes him look at the phone. 

“Huh,” he says, blinking at it. “Fred looks pretty pissed that I’m kissing you.” His face breaks out in a smug grin and Stiles rolls his eyes. Hard. 

“You are aware Fred is a duckling, right?” 

“Yes.” Derek grins harder, showing all his teeth, although his cheeks do colour slightly when he catches Stiles’ eye. 

Stiles sighs, totally not fond. “They couldn’t have come up with a better title, though?” he asks, brandishing his phone. “The Ugly Ducking, really?” 

Yeah,” Derek says, frowning. “I mean, I wouldn’t go as far as to call you ugly.” He laughs and Stiles smacks him across the chest with a loud, “hey!”

They both turn back to look at the picture. 

“We look so stupid,” Stiles whispers, shaking his head and biting his thumb. We fit, he thinks. We look like we fit. 

Leaning in, Derek smiles at him. “We do,” he agrees, burying his face back into the warmth of Stiles’ neck, muttering something about home and content and stupid Star Wars parodies.

Stiles snaps a selfie, captions it goals, and sends it to Erica. 

White sheets & purple kisses

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2,032
Warnings: Smut - NSFW – Sexual themes, inappropriate language, nudity, handjob, fingering, squirting, unprotected sex - please guys if you’re going to be intimate with someone, please use protection. Also if you’re underage, please don’t read this.
Author’s Note: Hi guys, I don’t even know what to say about this. I think this is the most smuty thing I’ve ever wrote ahah so all I can say is I hope you enjoy it. This is also for @marvelous-fvcks writing challenge. I hope you like it! I did my best. And please guys, tell me what you think of it. I’m so nervous for some reason ahaha.
Prompt Word: Hickey


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