an other dudes that i have no knowledge of their names

Why the SPN mixtape scene from 12x19 is screenwriting gold, and should be taught to the next generations of screenwriters everywhere - analysis

20 seconds. Two lines of dialogue, three gestures, a couple more camera angles. Episode 19, season 12 of a genre TV show “Supernatural”. A single strike of screenwriting and cinematic genius. The mixtape scene.

Robert Berens and Meredith Glynn, I bow before you.

This scene should be used as an example for future screenwriters how you can put maximum of meaning into minimal time and dialogue. Should be analyzed and taught at universities everywhere, how to achieve the most using the least. How to write for TV, where you only have less than an hour to built something spectacular.


Let’s just peel off all the layers of these 20 seconds of footage and these 13 words. 13 WORDS.

(Cas knocks, Dean doesn’t say anything. Cas opens the door, apologizes for disturbing Dean in his room, and then takes a cassette tape out of his left inside coat pocket, and puts it on the desk, while tapping the label on it that says “Deans (sic!) top 13 Zepp traxx”.)

Cas: Um, I just wanted to return this.

Dean: It’s a gift. You keep those.

13 tracks. 13 words. The future. So number thirteen is important for the future. I mean, are you trying to tell us something here, writers?

(Dean takes the tape, oustreches his arm, and gives it back to Cas. We see Cas’ hand grabbing the tape, and taking it back.)

That tiny scene is ENORMOUS from the perspective of the narrative and the characterization. Let’s see what we can get out of it. (Prepare yourself: it’s gonna be long. Damn, how much meta can you write based on 20 seconds of television and two lines of dialogue?) (Hint: A lot.)

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psa for the yoi fandom: russian names & how to use them

Russian guides: masterpost | patronyms | terms of affection | answered asks

I’m going to start by swearing this isn’t me just complaining but a general resource for the Yuri on Ice fandom because I’ve noticed some mistakes in the naming conventions used among the fandom and want to help correct them. Especially in how the fandom treats diminutives. I absolutely love seeing the huge amount of interest in Russian diminutives, etc. in fanart and fics and hopefully this breakdown will help continue that trend and interest and even spur some more ideas in fandom content.

So let’s go through some important details below the cut!

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anonymous asked:

Dude can you do a continuation of the sparrow thing where hanzo gets nicknames at overwatch and his reaction to it

Heck yeah I can, and I’m gonna make it McHanzo-flavored to boot


Hanzo follows Genji to Overwatch after a couple of months, after the knowledge that he lives has eaten too far into him to ignore. Genji is wary, as he should be, but nonetheless incredibly pleased that Hanzo has joined him.

The first time Genji calls him Brother, for the first time in ten years, Hanzo excuses himself after and has a panic attack in his room.

People in Overwatch are … friendly. More or less.

They all start with that distrust of him, that is true, and he doesn’t blame them one bit. He is surprised they allowed him to join them at all, and probably would have thrown them off the high Gibraltar cliffs if Genji hadn’t vouched for him.

Genji has other names, now; everyone refers to him with fondness. Lena calls him Luv, which Hanzo learns is a general term of endearment for her. Lucio and Hana call him Ninja, which strikes Hanzo as a little too literal. 

Most of them call him either Hanzo or Shimada-san, depending on how aware they are of Japanese honorifics. He expects epithets more like Murderer or Traitor. It would be no less than he deserves.

The only one who doesn’t shy away is the cowboy, who doesn’t call him much of anything outside of partner, the same way anyone else would say friend.

“I do not think they want me here,” Hanzo admits to Genji one evening. Because why would they?

“They do,” Genji assures him. “You are a valuable asset. And they like you, when you’re being pleasant. Do not worry, brother.”

Hanzo manages not to have a panic attack this time, but it’s a near thing.

When the nicknames do start, Hanzo is startled, almost afraid. 

Lucio’s nickname for him is Legolas, a reference that Hanzo doesn’t understand but is assured is appropriate–and once Reinhardt hears it, he is nothing less than ecstatic and also starts saying it. Lena’s is still Luv, like it is for most people, or sometimes Broody if she’s teasing. Hana just call him an old man, which he accepts in good humor because he probably does seem old, compared to her. It is better than what she could be calling him. 

McCree eventually calls him Archer, but Hanzo thinks he would not mind him just calling him by name just to hear it in McCree’s rich, drawling voice.

One of the things McCree calls everyone else is an odd one: Darlin’. It’s the kind of thing one would expect to hear only between significant others, but McCree just shrugs and says, “I dunno, I don’t really notice when I say it. I just say it to people I like sometimes.”

Hanzo monitors its usage. McCree mostly calls the women darling, moreso when he’s trying to be sweet (or get something) and with the people he’s known the longest. Once, he even says it to Genji.

Hanzo realizes he has never heard it aimed his way. When the realization hits, his stomach twists and churns with cold, vicious jealousy. For a brief second, he hates that once again, his own brother is being shown the kind of affection he never is.

Horror and shame dawn on him immediately after, and he can’t bear to look Genji in the eye for the rest of the night.

McCree kisses him one night, after a mission that was just this side of too close for comfort. Hanzo accepts it, kisses back, takes what he can before McCree realizes his mistake.

But McCree never shows a hint of regret, and Hanzo doesn’t have the courage to end it before he ruins it. 

After that night, McCree’s names for him take a turn: now it’s darling and sweetheart and, on one or two occasions, gorgeous. Hanzo sometimes forgets that these terms are aimed at him, sometimes that they’re aimed only at him.

They’re not really nicknames, Hanzo realizes after a little while. They’re pet names. Affection. Perhaps, he thinks wildly, maybe even love.

Hanzo can’t remember if he’s ever called anyone, aside from his family, anything but their name. But he tries it one night, takes McCree’s word and turns it back to him, the word darling feeling unfamiliar and childish as he murmurs it against the warm skin of McCree’s neck. 

McCree says nothing, but he grins a bashful sort of smile, and Hanzo resolves to make that the only thing he ever calls him again.

I just, I just fucking love the idea of Stiles building a new branch of the FBI. 

Like, he does his time in the trenches, he shuffles paperwork, he goes on missions, he takes down numerous bad guys. He’s a good, nay GREAT agent. But then something happens, someone of the supernatural evil persuasion comes on the scene and wants to take the world down. 

Stiles with all his supernatural knowledge goes to the director of the FBI and tells him, this is what he is and this is how we beat him. and because this has been going on for months Director Watsizname lets Stiles assemble a small task force to try his idea out. 

(Of fucking course Stiles reaches out to Derek to help, but I imagine the scene kind of like the one where Charles and Xavier try to get logan into the xmen and logan just goes ‘no’ and they leave him out of it.)

So Stiles gets like Argent and the Yukimauras, and beacon hills reunion am i right?

anyway… stiles and his task force work and get the guy, (there is an opposing task force also trying to get the guy, but they’re a human task force so they don’t know what they’re getting into.) and stiles and his little force of high school bffs gets the big bad and to reward him, Director Watsizmane gives him another case in colorado and Stiles gets a new partner and Stiles thinks it’s hilarious that he gets to roll around the country like fucking Sam and Dean Winchester to fix supernatural shit gone bad. 

That starts the construction of the Supernatural Affairs Division of the FBI (”Boss, our acronym can’t be FBI: SAD. that’s just… well.. sad…”) erm… the Supernatural Investigation Division? (”Now people will think my name is Sid or they’ll think of dying babies, do you want people to think of dying babies director?”) How about Department of Supernatural Affairs? FBI: DSA? Is that okay for you? (”DUDE!!! That is sooo much better!!!”)[Stiles goes around for days opening doors and yelling “FBI: DSA GET ON THE GROUND!!!” to his coworkers who have no idea what he is talking about]

the department is kept in the dark, theless people who know it exists the better. Stiles makes the code of the department” Nous protègons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protèger eux-měmes” for Allison. (and the fbi director and the president aren’t happy it’s french, they would prefer latin or something. but Stiles is firm that it needs to be french.)

The department grows slowly, only bringing in experienced agents who have already seen some questionable things while on missions. They work with Area 51 sometimes, other times they work with a supernatural version of liverpool. 

Soon, the DSA is big enough to warrant it’s own headquarters (”Stilinski, it’s not a secret lair” “Chief we have an airplane hanger mined into a mountain. It’s a secret lair,”) 

Derek, Stiles’ husband, helps out sometimes, but not too often, he’d rather stay at home and focus on his woodworking business or something.

and eventually, Stiles becomes the head of the DSA and he has a really cool office like Ice Cube’s in 22 Jump Street (as per his request (omg what a loser)). he’ll sit up in his office as he sees new kids, both human and supernatural, come into the secret lair for the first time and see how great it is. they stop many many supernatural attacks in america, but also worldwide. Derek brings him lunch sometimes.

this is his legacy, and when he retires, they put a bust of him in the hall of fbi fame and another in the DSA headquarters. 


No pets were allowed on campus.

The freshman orientation guide was very, Very clear about this point. Absolutely, positively, no pets allowed. (minor exceptions to be made for service animals.) And yet here she was, 3 weeks into her first semester, sitting on the ground, staring at a cat. It was staring back.

Dread had always been fond of animals. She had never been allowed to have any pets, (her father was allergic to most things with fur, and her mother just hated animals) but she had always wanted a cat. Multiple cats, preferably. And now she was sitting on the steps of her dorm, in a college where No Pets Were Allowed, staring at the most precious little ball of fur she had ever set eyes on. She knew far too well about the other rules (she was on her second roommate, now, and the delicate horns curling from the thing-that-was-not-her-first-roommate’s face had left an… impression.) She was very good about remembering iron, salt, and not to say please or thank you. But this was a very cute cat, and she was willing to risk a little bit.

It meowed. She held out a hand, and it walked right up to her, and “oh my goodness you are just the cutest thing!” she squeaked. The cat seemed satisfied.

She was, to say the least, conflicted. The rules were very clear, and the rules were generally right, but this was a very small cat, and she did not have very many friends, and really, she already knew what she would do. “C’mere, you.” She scooped up the cat and it snuggled into her jacket. “I’m going to name you Eldritch.”


It was about three weeks later that things got… actively weird. She had managed to smuggle in, via the Walmart (which had no employees that day, she left the money on the counter and hoped that nothing Else would take it) a litter box and cat food. Eldritch seemed to settle in fine, and she traded her roommate 3 dollars and a cool rock in return for not telling anyone about the very, very illegal pet currently snoozing on her lap. The roommate, whose name was Chalkboard, seemed to like the cat. Chalkboard even gave the cat a cat-toy. When Chalkboard vanished (decided to take the “fake your death to avoid breaking up with your s.o” advice a little too much to heart), Not-Chalkboard did Not like the cat. Dread caught Not-Chalkboard making what looked like a very rude hand gesture at the cat on multiple occasions, although it’s hands were strange and​ it was hard to be sure. It was when Not-Chalkboard, after having a Very Intense staring contest with the cat for about 6 minutes, saw the error of its ways and vanished, leaving Chalkboard in its place, that Dread began to think something might be up. Eldritch said nothing, as cats are wont to do, but it purred a great deal when Chalkboard let it sit on her lap while she was doing her homework. This was, to say the least, Rather Suspect. Nothing more was said about it.

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BnHA Profile: Aizawa Shouta

Aizawa is one of the cleverest, most underrated characters in BnHA, and I’m not just saying that because he’s voiced by Suwabe and therefore immediately on Lethey’s Love List. This is a guy that sort of drags himself through life, doing good deeds without seemingly getting a lot of satisfaction from it. He’s almost an anti-hero even though he’s more pure than several of the other characters in the series. So let’s break him down.

Out of the Limelight

Aizawa is an ‘underground’ hero. He avoids the media, he stays out of all the flashy stuff and really, the only reason people like Izuku know his name is because, well, Izuku is a massive nerd.
As a hero, but also personality-wise, Aizawa is a clear foil for All Might. One is always smiling, embracing fame to become a symbol of peace that stops villains everywhere from even wanting to start shit. He’s super flashy, cares deeply about appearance and also he’s just… huge and muscular.
Eraserhead, meanwhile, has a resting bitch face, looks like he hasn’t showered in days, wears basic black pyjamas wherever he goes and he shrinks back from attention like a vampire seeing the first rays of the sun.
This contrast extends to their fighting style. All Might is all about power and speed. He’s an all-rounder that overwhelms his opponents with a super-quirk. Meanwhile, Aizawa is an incredibly specialised hero that needs a clear strategy and an extensive knowledge of martial arts to even stand a chance. In many ways All Might is to Aizawa what Izuku is to Shinsou, someone blessed with overwhelming power and therefore hard to deal with. It’s not really that difficult to see why they don’t get along very well.

 (spoilers from the manga under the cut) (also this stuff is just really long ok)
(I have many feels)(and many opinions)

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alicemad-hatter  asked:

Okay, so I've been wanting to get into KNK for the longest time, but like do you have anything that could like help me get to know the members and their positions etc.? Also what song would you recommend for a first time listener?

Hello my dear,

Welcome to the fandom! I am going to warn you that what you are doing is brave since you want me to corrupt you with KNK. *cracks knuckles*

dis is KNK in their professional format

And this is how KNK is like 90% of the time

Originally posted by thatcrazedgirlchuck

Things that happened in KNK:

  • ships… like endless ships (these dudes love each other)
  • endless screaming (i wish i was joking but no this is a known fact

  • their official fandom name is Tinkerbell due to the fact that these men are giants (average height is 185 cm) and we are the fairies that protect them
  • Official fandom colors are rose gold and silver 
  • when something is funny the fall in the floor and laugh (these are facts)


This lovely man who I love is called Youjin

Facts on this glorious man:

  • he is a single dad of 4 kids
  • he is always judging the other 4 members in a loving way
  • Voice of angel like this man can belt dem high notes
  • King of dad dance moves
  • hair porn from this man 
  • he likes his personal space (the other 4 are super clingy to dad)
  • has a 9cm mouth and is proud of it
  • Born February 10, 1993
  • His eye smile is blinding (its too beautiful for this world)
  • Takes care of his sons
  • Main Vocalist
  • Was supposed to debut with BAP
  • he is the main reason why the group is 15% normal
  • he may be the quiet one in the group but when he talks its something super witty and funny
  • Oh lord… dis mans legs…. makes me weak (and his thighs)
  • This tall man moves 360 when he is sleeping 


This piece of artwork is called Seungjun

Facts about Mr.Fluffy:

  • he is in love with Jihun (he does not deny it and also waiting for the wedding announcement) 
  • he is the visual of the group but is also the official nerd of the group
  • he is soo nerdy that he carries a wand around and has a vast collection of pokemon and has a ton of knowledge about a variety of anime 
  •  Loves tinkerbells with a passion
  • he is a tol child. he is a 190 cm 
  • Acts like lil 5 year old 
  • Born October 28, 1993
  • former Big Hit Entertainment trainee and he trained with the members of BTS.
  • Trained with got7 
  • Did I say that he loves Jihun
  • He is the main rapper
  • Has a deep voice but is a child at heart
  • Loves doing aegyo
  • Likes to give affection to every single member 
  • Besides his love of Jihun, he loves food… like he has a happy dance for food
  • he is cute 24/7 but looks deadly on stage


This hottie is Inseong

Facts on this cute lil bunny:

  • Is the king of screaming… and man he screams
  • his lover is heejun
  • this mans voice is to die for… like holy moly my heart
  • His thigh games is super strong
  • Born  July 1, 1994
  • He is a former Big Hit Entertainment trainee with Seungjun
  • Tinkerbells want to be blessed by his forehead and we are still waiting to see it
  • He lowkey cheats on heejun with seungjun
  • He has cute bunny teeth 
  • Main Vocalist
  • Skinship is in his middle name
  • loves laugh or screaming on the floor
  • His smile is a blessing to the world
  • His under dying love for tinkerbells
  • He is a meme like a meme
  • Plays the piano 


This cutie dork is called Jihun

Facts on this Babe:

  • In love with seungjun
  • creeps into seungjuns bedroom to get his back scratch
  • He is the leader of the group
  • His dance moves are smooth as butter
  • Seungjun is in love with how big his butt is
  • his thighs are 10 out 10
  • Has a sweet voice when he sings
  • Aegyo master
  • Always makes Seungjun Laugh
  • His derp faces should be put in a museum
  • Is part of the extra squad with Inseong and Heejun
  • Born February 20, 1995
  • Is a cutie patootie 
  • Creates some of the choreo for KNK’s dances


This smol bean is Heejun

Facts about this cutie:

  • Is the shortest member in KNK (he is 180cm)
  • His lover is Inseong but has a crush on Youjin
  • He is a meme 24/7
  • Part of the extra squad
  • Plays the guitar 
  • Raps/ Sings
  • Was an FNC trainee with Inseong
  • Is a troll
  • asks Youjin to sing him to sleep
  • Loves the floor (cuz he always screams or laughs on the floor)
  • born May 8, 1996
  • Blessed us with his forehead selfie
  • Loves his hyungs

Here are some of my Favorite songs of KNK

Things you should watch to watch the extraness that KNK is


Things to watch about KNK is from the Youtube channel KNK SUBS  and these other youtube channels X X X X X


Tinkermom Cami


Soooooo Saturday I met Gareth David-Lloyd…this was quite an adventure I have to say and I just felt like I needed to share my experience and the thoughts going through my mind.  

I totally knew this was going to happen.  I’ve been planning this little trip to Huntsville for a couple of months now and was totally ready to shell out an obscene amount of money to meet this guy.  I just so happened one day to be curious enough to see if Gareth was coming close-by anytime soon.  I kind of figured it would be a stretch, but lo and behold, Gareth was coming to Huntsville.  To my dismay, it was a Doctor Who convention and he was arriving as a Torchwood guest and I literally know nothing about these shows.  I probably watched one episode of Doctor Who a long time ago and then tried a Torchwood episode shortly after my decent into Solavellan hell just because…reasons…

I’ve been planning this, worried because of my lack of knowledge of the Whoverse or whatever the hell people call it, unsure of whether this convention was going to be massive or tiny, and just general freaking out over getting to meet Gareth.  With my print in hand, my boyfriend and I went all the way up to his grandparent’s house just for me to meet this one guy at a convention that I knew nothing about.  

Unsure of how long this convention was going to take, I told my boyfriend ahead of time that he should probably be ready to wait a while.  I had never been to this convention before, but all other conventions I had gone to had a lot of waiting involved.  He ended up having one of his friends that were close by drive 30 minutes over to the mall where this hotel was located so that they could play card games.  I walk in the front door, scared as all get out with this universe that I had no idea about.  

I went up to the marked tables and literally had my badge in hand within 2 minutes.  I was the ONLY ONE IN LINE.  I saw people, sure, but there was like no one around.  Granted, I had gotten there at like 11:30, so the con was already like halfway over for the day, but still!  I expected to wait in line for at least a few minutes.  I looked at the clock and saw that I had apparently prepared too much and was now an hour early before Gareth was supposed to be signing stuff.  UGH!!!  I thought, well, I don’t know anything about this fandom other than Daleks, the phone booth, and then that Matt Smith is apparently the best doctor (I have no idea what who this person is but I apparently know his name), but I guess since I have time to spare I may as well go to the Vendor room and Artist Alley.  I went to where the Vendor room was, literally passing maybe 2 or 3 people.  

This was probably the smallest Vendor room I had ever seen.  There were like maybe 10 tables and was filled with maybe like 20-30 people including the people running the booths.  People everywhere asking me to enter this raffle and do this doohicky and I’m just like “haha no thanks” and walked away nervously.  In under 2 minutes, I had already looked at everything.  In another 2 minutes, I had already looked through the Artist Alley.  I still had so much time before meeting Gareth.  I decided that I should at least go over and see if he was around, I could just sit there and be creepy and stare at him for an hour, worst case scenario.  

I went over to the room where the signings were happening and he was already sitting down doing autographs.  I felt my heart jump in my throat and walked over to him.  Once again, there was no line.  I literally became the second person in line immediately.  I paid the lady sitting next to him, already aware that I was spending another $40 just to get him to sign my print and felt my heart start racing.  Then as the people in front of me left, my hands started shaking.  I started to fumble to get the picture out of the protective thing I bought and he said hi to me.  Dude, you guys, I felt my face burn bro.  That accent was to die for.  Literally, I could have just passed out.  I told him that I was actually a huge Dragon Age fan and really appreciated all the work that he had done.  When I showed him the @nipuni print that I had brought for him to sign, he absolutely gushed over it.  He just kept talking about how pretty it was and then quickly signed it for me.  I couldn’t stop my hands from shaking, but he was just so nice and then shook my hand.  I told him that I had literally no knowledge of Doctor Who or Torchwood and literally just came to this convention to get his autograph.  He was just so cute and I just couldn’t take my eyes off of him.

I’ve gotta do something about vibrating when I get all nervous around people I like.  It’s a sickness and I have no idea what I have to do to get rid of it.  It’s embarrassing and I could just feel myself turning beet red while I was standing in front of him.  It was so bad!!!!

So yeah, that was my ridiculously long and stupid story about what a dork I am and all this trouble that I went through literally just to meet this adorable cutie.  $100 for this like 30 second moment was well spent.

Immediately after this, I started getting sick and am still sick.  Gareth got me sick by being too adorable.  I’ve decided.  Now, I gotta go die somewhere…

I just did a term paper over Second First Lady Abigail Adams and thought i might share some interesting facts that i found out with you all.

  • Abigail and her hubby have over 1,000 surviving letters of correspondence between the two of them
    • unlike the washingtons who burned most of their letters
  • Abigail didn’t have a formal education, but she basically ate fine literature for breakfast and taught herself French
  • She and Thomas Jefferson were totally bosom buddies until he called her husband a hermaphrodite during the election of 1800
  • Martha Jefferson and Sally Hemings were HALF-SISTERS????
  • Unlike all their founding friends, the Adams both opposed slavery and didn’t own slaves, a winning combo.
  • Abigail and john were like, disgustingly in love. they almost never called each other by their given name and had a million pet names for each other, I.E.: Diana, Portia, Lysander, Miss Adorable, Dearest of Friends, etc.
  • Later in her life, Abigail thought that she was dying and wrote herself a will, which ladies of the time didn’t get to do. It wasn’t honored, but she wanted to make sure some of her lady relatives would get a fair share, since otherwise it was just going to be split between the male relatives.
  • Since she was such an avid letter writer we are able to get a better look at what life was like at the time.
  • Abigail posthumously proved that Bill O’Rielly was full of shit in one such letter to her cousin. This was when Michelle Obama brought up that slaves built the white house, and Bill O’Rielly said that the slaves were “treated well and given proper lodging” or some bs. Historians pulled the recipients and Abigail’s letter states that :  It is true Republicanism that drive the Slaves half fed, and destitute of cloathing, or fit for re, to labour, whilst the owner waches about Idle.
  • Also was supes critical about the paradoxical notion that Americans fought for freedom yet still owned slaves:   It allways appeard a most iniquitious Scheme to me-fight ourselfs for what we are daily robbing and plundering from those who have as good a right to freedom as we have.
  • She and John also exchanged some very saucy letters before they were married and had their first kid only eight and half months after they were married. Reeeaally stretching the limits of propriety there.
  • Abigail was basically her husband’s trusted adviser and his critics called her Mrs. President. She was cool with that and wore it like a badge of honor, cause she stood by her man.
  • One of her least favorite things about her hubby being the pres was the spotlight though. Not cause she had nothing to say or anything like that, but because she knew that she could not shut herself up. Girl had too many opinions and brains for the dudes of her time.
  • Looked at Hamilton when she spoke to him and wrote that she felt she was looking into the eyes of the devil himself

Feel free to add your own fun historical knowledge, especially if it’s about cool ladies of history.

Allergic Interaction

Inspired by @edorazzi‘s BEAUTIFUL little OCs Amun and Carter and all of their antics, Miraculous’ titular character Chat Noir AKA Adrien and his affliction with feathers, and my recent jackpot of allergies. Enjoy!

Also found on AO3.

           Amun would say his luck with the accursed food was dismal at best.

           Hazelnuts, as he learned since his revival, were not, in fact, cursed but some sort of chemical thing, as Angelo put it, caused him to have a reaction in his immune system. Since his internal organs had recently been re-growing, that meant that former hives evolved into far worse reactions when exposed to the fatal nut.

           His luck was dismal because, even after learning of this and learning enough English reading to avoid it, they were in France, and, therefore, French was written everywhere. Amun hadn’t even thought to ask someone to read it to him - he knew the language of French but not how to read it - when he’d eaten that chocolate bar offered to him by one of the clerks at the museum.

           If not for Angelo’s quick grab for the Epinephrine pen upon seeing Amun go red and begin to wobble from dizziness, this might have been his second death.

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private tutor | part one

request from anon: Can I request a namjoon in college!au? It can be about anything! Maybe a tutor? Thanks and I love your writing!!

Originally posted by yoonkooks

[Namjoon x Reader]

Genre: College!au, Humor

Words: 3535

—> “I am brilliant, thank you very much. But if you don’t have a form of payment, I’m afraid I will have to decline your proposal.” You fall to your knees, hands clasped together, “Please, Namjoon; I’m willing to do anything.” The last word causes him to look away from his book and down at you, taking in your rather pathetic self. A smirk stretches across his lips, “Anything?”

A/N: Joonie can tutor me any day ;) hope you guys like this part one/intro of this series (i’m thinking three parts?)! xoxo

Well, this is awkward.

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Can You Hear Me Now? {Michael Mell x Reader Soulmate AU}

request:  Michael Mell x Female!Reader smut with a soulmate AU? Like Telekinesis… they can hear each others thoughts when they want to, but they can only hear the other persons words in their own inner-voice so they don’t know who it is? And it just starts at the same time as your soulmate, so you both get this TERRIBLE headache. Maybe he realizes it because (Y/N) is the lead in the musical and she’s going over lines, or maybe she’s the jokester and her wit is going at 100 miles a minute? ILY!!❤️

oh my god it took so long but here it is!!!! i hope this is what you wanted because i love my sweet mell!!

warnings: swearing, smut smUT SMUT

word count: 2800

Fuck the fucking thoughts in your damn head. Fuck the asshole who was constantly rick-rolling you, fuck the moron who literally had the Duck-Tales theme stuck in his head all the time.

Your soul mate’s thoughts had been invading yours for such a long time that you’d just learned to accept them. It wasn’t as though you could do anything to make them stop. You’d tried to make your thoughts louder, sharper,  and even those most private ones that you tried to hide- but nothing would shut them up.

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The Persistence of Memory (NSFW)

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, smut

A/N: This was surprisingly difficult to write. Sorry for how long this is, I was originally going to just do smut, then it turned into just fluff then it turned back into smut. Also, all the art talk was self indulgent as fuck, sorry, I’m just an art nerd.

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thirty days of skam fic: day twenty nine
aka, isak triple texts his one night stand, even, and the boy squad are in absolute despair at how desperate that looks

beginning. accusation. restless. leaves. rainbow. flame. formal. under. move. silver. prepared. knowledge. denial. cans. order. thanks. look. summer. transformation. tremble. tent. mad. thousand. paper. winter. luxury. letters. promise. simple. future.


“Dude, this is so simple. This is like, entry level stuff.”

“Seriously Isak, how have you ever managed to hook up with anyone before?”

“Bro, come on, did you not take dating 101?  I mean, even I know this.”

Isak slumps back in his chair, gripping his beer between white-knuckled hands and glaring around the table.  At some point soon, he thinks to himself, he really needs to invest in some better friends.

“You can all fuck off,” he suggests, and then turns a baleful look to the middle of Jonas’s kitchen table, which they’re all sat around as they supposedly pregame for a big party in someone’s university halls tonight, although at this rate Isak’s not sure they’ll even make it to the party, since the guys now seem only invested in telling him off.  Isak’s phone is lying on the table between them all, still open to his most recent text conversation.  Mahdi had been holding it, but he’d felt the need to dramatically drop the phone in disgust as soon as he’d seen what Isak had done.

But in Isak’s defence, how was he supposed to know it’s bad to triple text?

“He was really hot,” he moans, bringing his beer bottle up to his forehead and pressing the cold glass against his temples. “Easily the best sex I’ve ever had, even though we both completely drunk.  Plus he was nice, and funny, and – I’m just supposed to never contact him again after that?”

There’s disbelief in Isak’s tone, because that can’t possibly be how it works.  He also refuses to believe he’s this out of the loop on the rules of dating – or that there are rules of dating to begin with, honestly.


“It was a one night stand!”

To be fair, Isak’s had his fair share of one night stands since coming out of the closet a few years ago, just before he graduated Nissen.  Possibly more than his fair share.  His time at University so far has involved a lot of time at parties and gay bars, a lot of guys with dark hair and dark eyes, just Isak’s type, a lot of kissing in shadowy corners and fucking in strangers’s beds.  He’s gone on a few regular dates too, but it never really caught his interest, and nothing ever turned into any kind of actual relationship, so he mostly does just stick to the hooking up – and through all of that, he’s never felt the urge to text a guy the next day.  Sometimes he’s taken their number but just never got in touch, and other times the parting has been more mutual, or else he’s snuck out in the middle of the night without saying anything, but never this.

This guy – Even, whose name still tastes heavenly in Isak’s mouth – had been different.  

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Hiraeth: Chapter 1


Words: 3693

“Here’s your green tea with banana chocolate chip cookies and muesli bars! Enjoy your meal, ma’am!”

You looked up from the book in your hands to see a young girl smiling brightly at you, her grin spreading from one ear to the other. A bit too sweet, a little too false. You realised that the thought was oxymoronically absurd but you knew it wasn’t without reason.

You thanked the girl and gave her a small smile before turning back to the book in your hand and continuing to read.

You had wandered amidst humans for a long time now, 505 years to be exact, and while it had been difficult, you had learnt to adapt. It was strange, the world of humans, no doubt. Ever since you had known the species, which would be since the time you had ruled over them to now, they had been greedy. However, just like the species itself, the way to express that greed had evolved as well.

Back in the days, when humans had not explored the idea of shared power and the world was aware of the existence of creatures that were unlike humans, greed manifested itself in their minds in the form of blind ambition for power, which in those times meant the throne. You knew this because, you had been alive in that time and more so, you had been a princess.

A wolf princess.

You had had your fair share of human kings waging war on your kingdom to claim your stronghold, your people and your kind. None of them succeeded, of course. Humans driven by greed for power tended to overestimate themselves and they truly believed they could defeat your ‘kind’, as they referred to you, in battle. An unbelievably stupid estimate, if someone asked you.

However, you had long since realized that humans were not only driven by greed. They were driven by fear and…by love. Take the chirpy, overly sweet girl who had just served you. She was eager to please you and you knew by your experience in observation, her smile was so forced that it physically hurt her.
So why did she do the job? Fear. Maybe she was poor, maybe she was in debt, maybe she was trying hard to make ends meet and survive.

Maybe it was love. Maybe she had a future to build, maybe she had a sick companion. You did not care to go into the details.

If there was, however, something you understood after centuries of cohabiting with humans, it was that if you wanted to survive in the world of humans and blend in, you would have learn the unique skill of acting. That was something humans were absolutely brilliant at.  

To be fair, you weren’t so bad yourself.

You had changed professions and countries so many times now that you did not care to remember all of them. You had done your adequate share of acting. In fact, you were currently in midst of exactly that. In this lifetime, in this disguise, you were a professor of Zoology, named Diana Moon.

You finished the last bit of your muesli bar and gathered your belongings, as you checked the time. 10:21 AM. You smiled a little to yourself as you left the café and quietly walked back towards the campus.

You would be lying if you said that you weren’t more eager than usual to deliver today’s lecture, because the topic of today’s lecture was more personal to you than anyone could imagine.

You opened the entrance to the lecture hall and walked to your desk. Taking the board marker, you turned around to write the topic for today’s lecture on the board. You let out a deep sigh as you finished writing across the white board.

Canis Dirus, the Dire Wolves.

Your brethren.

A lone hand was up in a sea of curious students attending a zoology class being taught by a very special professor, miss Diana Moon a.k.a you. To a passer-by it would seem to be a very normal day of teaching.


This was the hand of a very ignoramus and moronic bully who went by the name ‘Rocky’. Now, after spending more than 500 hundred years trying to accommodate yourself with the humans, you would have liked to say that you were not the one to judge people, especially on the basis of names.

But seriously, Rocky? Even you could have come up with something better than that and you were ancient.

Anyway, coming back to the point, it was unlike you to get annoyed or even pay attention to this punk, knowing that the only reason he put his hand up in class was either in an attempt to sound sassy and cool in front of his classmates or to waste the class’s time for his entertainment. Now, in normal circumstances, this would have hardly mattered to you, since you were well aware that these kids cared less about gaining knowledge and more about getting a degree. You knew most of these kids were not here to learn something but rather to just comfortably spend some years in college, getting a degree that could help them get a job in the future, and that was okay. You were used to this routine and it did not affect you.

However, it did irk you when you were interrupted by a rude human kid when you were explaining to the class, the history of your kinsfolk.

You looked at Rocky with a blank expression and decided that for once, you would answer his query.

“Yes Mr. …” You slightly frowned as you tried to recall what the kid’s real name was but shrugged as you realized you had never bothered to find out his real name.“…Never mind. What is your query?”

Rocky sniggered, “What, Miss Moon? You can’t recall your own student’s name?”

“The matter of recalling your name would come up if I knew it in the first place. I don’t know your name at all.” You deadpanned, while the entire lecture hall seemed to have become a hall of laughter yoga. “Now, will you please share your query so that I can continue the lecture?”

“Y-Yes.” Rocky said through grit teeth, visibly humiliated by the little scene he had caused, but apparently he was still not discouraged to back out from announcing his downgrading comments about the topic in hopes to regain his lost honor. If anything, he seemed more fueled by anger now. Enough to forget that he was student speaking to his professor.

“It’s a fucking stupid topic that’s not going to help us in anyway in the real world.” He scoffed. “Dire wolves? Canis Dirus? The most powerful predators? Who cares? They’re dead anyway. Why do we need to study some stupid wolves who’re dead?”

Students around him gasped, some even openly gaping at the use of his language while others just shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

You, on the other hand, were casually leaning against your table, arms crossed and face entirely devoid of any expression. Your eyes, however, were flashing a dangerous red color, which did not go unnoticed. Rocky stiffened in his seat as he saw the change in your eyes. He looked around to see if anyone could see what he was seeing but as soon as he turned his head around towards his class, he let out a gasp of horror. It was like everyone was frozen, in midst of whatever they were doing. It was as though time -in that very moment- had stopped.

“Y-Yah, what’s wrong?” He asked the boy who was seated to his right, apparently frozen in midst of eating his lunch sneakily. “W-Why aren’t you moving?”

No response.

He turned towards your direction to see you standing in the exact same position that you had been the entire time; only you were doing it voluntarily. You were not frozen in time.

“P-P-Professor Moon, what’s happening? Do you see this? W-We’re going to die! Call for help!” He looked at you, visibly panicking.

“Be quiet.”

Rocky looked at you in disbelief. Could you not see what was happening? Or…were you the one doing it? Yes! That’s it! You and him were the only people who could move and he was obviously not the one causing this…so that left you.

“It’s you! You’re doing this, you hag! I-I’m gonna tell everyone.” Rocky flailed around.

“I said be quiet, child.”

Immediately, Rocky went rigid in his seat. It was as though his limbs had been held in place with invisible strings so strong, he would have to destroy every bone in his body to break even one of those wretched strings. He could only hear and process what was going on. He looked at you, completely terrified. He tried to say something, but not even a whimper came out. He had lost his voice.

You appraised the kid. He looked terrified out of his wits and his eyes were begging for mercy. That made you sad. You had not wished to do this and if you were to admit it, Rocky or any of the kids in this room were not worth the trouble of you using your divine powers. However, you could not forgive the words that had come out of his impertinent mouth. It had been a long time since you had let go of your family, perhaps many lifetimes, but the memory was as good as new to you.

The red in your eyes burned brighter.

“Listen to me carefully punk. I’m not going to harm you; you’re not worth it. However, I’ll have you know this. The legacy of my forbears is not easily forsaken. The next time you open that rotten mouth of yours, you’ll do well to remember my words because if you do not,” Your voice became dangerously low. “Those will be the last words you utter.”

Rocky closed his eyes in a desperate attempt to show he understood. As soon as he opened his eyes, everything was back to normal. The kids around him were looking at him weird as if he was the one doing bizarre and crazy things like freezing time. He immediately got up and frantically looked around the class, running from one seat to another and shaking his mates to confirm what he was seeing.

“Hey, kid. What do you think you’re doing in my class?”

Rocky froze. He slowly turned in your direction to find you leaning against the desk with a book in your hand, looking at him with an annoyed expression. As if…as if you hadn’t just threatened him, as if you hadn’t just stopped time, as if you hadn’t just called those stupid dire wolves your ancestors.

“You…you just stopped time.” He pointed at you, a maniacal expression on his face.

“Dude, sit down before you get all of us in trouble.” A kid called out behind him. But Rocky was not done. He had almost lost his life because of his zoology professor who flashes red eyes and makes time stop. He was not going to stop until he got an answer.

“Are you guys fucking blind?!” He screamed at his classmates and then pointed at you. “She just stopped time, she just froze everyone, she-she almost killed me!” He cried. “Y-you’re a monster.”

Before anyone could react to that, the bell went off signaling the end of that study slot.

“Right. That’s it for today. I’ll see all of you soon and by that time I expect you to be…”

Rocky tuned out the rest of your words. He felt like he was losing his mind. Nobody was ready to believe him. Hell, even you seemed to not know what he was talking about. Had…had he really just imagined all that?

He picked up his bag, deep in thoughts and gave you one last glance. You weren’t even looking at him. He really must be losing his mind. He looked away and walked out of the class with the rest of the students, missing your amused smile.


There he stood, your old friend. He was leaning against your luxurious car, parked at least a kilometer from the university. You couldn’t take chances with small stuff like this. A university professor could not possibly have that much money, could not possibly afford a Mercedes Maybach built for richest of the rich.

You smiled at Dae-seok. “I am not called by that name anymore, old friend.”

Dae-seok was a child when you found him, no more than 10 years of age. A child trapped in the fires set by an arsonist. He had lost his family and yet, he was only a child. He was scared of dying. He kept crying out, for someone to save him and his family trapped in the building where his father once used to work. No one heard his screams, no one but you. You had listened for a while, even thought of leaving the scene since you were hardly in any position to disclose your identity. Yet, you could not allow yourself to abandon the boy. After all, how different would you be from the people who had abandoned you when you were crying out for your family?

So, for that moment you let go of your disguise. Stealthily, you entered the building still in human form and saw the young child weeping for his burnt family around him. They had passed. You had picked the child up and dropped down straight from the 11th floor to the ground and took him to your house. There you had nursed him back to health and by the end of his healing process, you knew you could not let the child go.

So you sponsored him, you nurtured him. You helped him get his education, you fed him, you let him stay with you until he was old enough to venture out alone and make a life for himself.

Dae-seok looked at you with fond eyes. He may be 65 years of age now, but in front of you, his eyes were still like that of child, for he knew your secrets.

“I’m sorry!” He let out a hearty laugh. “Miss Diana Moon, is it?”

“That is correct.” You moved forward and opened the passenger’s seat for him to get in. “Get in, Mr. Da-Seok. It appears you have something to talk to me about. How about dinner?”

“That will not be necessary, captain.” He fake saluted you but with a laugh he got into the car. You shut the door after him and made your own way to the driver’s seat. You got in and sat down facing forward, looking through your car’s front pane at the empty and abandoned road ahead, surrounded by trees on each side.


You did not turn towards him.

“I told you not to call me that, Dae-Seok.” You sighed.

“I can’t help it.” He muttered. “You’re not Diana Moon or whatever. You’re ____.” He asserted. He was trying to prove some point. You finally turned towards Dae-Seok suspiciously. He had a very old look on his face, marked with wrinkles and craters of old age. However, that was not what worried you. It was Dae-Seok’s eyes. Those eyes, which had held childlike excitement, a few moments ago, were now etched with fear and worry.

“Dae-Seok.” He looked up. “What is worrying you, my child?”

It was then Dae-seok started to silently cry. It reminded you of the time you saved him from the fire. He was shocked, keeping silent the first few days after he gained consciousness. He didn’t want to show his fear and his pain. It was only after a week of staying together, when you had just come back from the market, that you found him on the doorstep of your house, crying endlessly. You had put down the vegetables that you bought to cook for the boy and bent down in front of him. He had thrown himself in your arms and continued to cry until you took him inside, tucked him in bed and sang him a lullaby till he slept. It was only later that you found out, he was scared that you had abandoned him and left. After that day, he did not leave your side for a minute. Not until he left your house for good.

“You’re my only family, ____.” A lone tear fell from the old man’s eye.

Immediately, your brain started working over-drive. He was talking like something was about to happen to him. Was he ill? Terminally-ill?

“You’re okay, aren’t you?” You let the worry inside you show on your face this time. “Are you ill?”

Dae-seok laughed a little, wiping his tears. “You’re such a mother.”

“Dae-seok.” You warned.

He looked at you and the worry slowly crept back in his features. His wrinkles became deeper and his smile was faint.

“It’s you.” He finally said. You narrowed your eyes in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

Another tear fell down Dae-Seok face.

“You are the one who’s in danger. Not me.”

9:30 PM, Millenium MARRIOT hotel, Seoul

Jeon Jungkook walked briskly in the vast halls of his luxurious hotel. For once, he did not even glance at the people greeting him. The facts that had been buried for centuries were now beginning to surface. He had heard tales by his elder brothers, his hyungs, for a long time. The tales and legends of the white wolves, blessed by the moon goddess. He had heard of the betrayals that lead to the annihilation of the Nuntis pack.

If someone were to ask him, Jungkook would say it was needed. The white sun wolves of Nuntis pack were too powerful for their own good. They had become the rulers of their time without question because who would question heavenly beings with divine powers? Everything happened at the discretion of the White wolf King and Queen. Yes, they were kind rulers but till when? If a time came, where they were displeased, they could kill at discretion and have no one to answer to but more so, no one to stop them. No one was strong enough to go against the white wolves. The only way to be free of them was to kill them, and to kill them the only tools, which could be used, were deception and betrayal. He had heard the gruesome tales of their deaths. He had heard how the wolf princess was forced to kill the King and Queen to protect her brother and how her brother was deceived into believing his family had died and was beheaded. There were no tales about the end of the wolf princess but she was killed as well.
That’s what the Yawa tribe, who had led the revolt against the Nuntis tribe, always affirmed. However, the new enigma that had just presented itself in front of them said something else entirely.

The elevator doors opened and Jungkook walked out and took his first right to the VIP suites section. He stopped in front of suite 0009 and knocked in a hurry. The door opened and he was greeted by Jimin, one of his brothers. Jungkook could smell the tense atmosphere from the door. Jimin turned around and Jungkook followed him inside to be greeted by the sight of his brothers spread out in the entire room. Yoongi and Namjoon sat near the huge windows overlooking the city. Hoseok and Jin sat on chairs placed on either side of the ground table while Jimin and Taehyung made the couch their temporary home. On the bed, however, he saw the leader of the Yawa pack.


Durion was a cunning and filthy being. He prided himself as the killer of the Nuntis tribe and was a self proclaimed ‘enforcer of the divine laws of wolves’. A pompous scum, if someone asked Jungkook. However, he was a strong pompous scum. Jungkook didn’t like to admit it but he would probably have a tough time fighting the guy. He might even lose. However, that was not something he needed to worry himself about. Durion was an ally…or at the very least both packs decided to become allies for the sake of peace.

Jungkook never liked Durion- or the Yawa Pack for that matter. Survival instinct said that white wolves needed to die and Jungkook was not about to put himself on a moral high ground and say he would have done things differently but he would probably not have been so cruel. Durion was cruel beyond measure.

“Ah.” Durion rose from his makeshift throne. “My dear friend Jungkook.”

Jungkook didn’t make an effort to hide his distaste as he gave the elder wolf a slight nod. He turned towards his leader and bowed in respect. He needed answers but Durion was not the one he wanted answers from.

“Is it true?”

The leader of the pack finally looked at the youngest member of his pack. Namjoon was a wise leader. He was aware of the distaste everyone held for the Yawa, especially for Durion. He was not a fan of their sly ways either. However, he could not afford to battle for power with this cunning tribe. Ráka was a strong tribe, beyond the shadow of a doubt but unlike Durion- who had warriors to lose, Namjoon had family to lose. He had chosen to become a ghost ally of Durion to observe him closely rather than risking open war and losing his family.

Of course, that didn’t mean that they actually had to be friendly. Namjoon never stopped Jungkook from misbehaving with Durion. He quite enjoyed it.

“Namjoon-hyung?” The youngest one’s voice impatiently called out, eager to get an answer.

“Ah, yes. Sorry.” Namjoon’s face turned grim as he recalled why everyone had been called with such haste. Immediately, the uneasiness in the suite increased exponentially. Watching the leader tense was not something the men in the room were used to.

“Why, Hyung? Is it really true?” Taehyung spoke.

Namjoon sighed as he shook his head. “Yes. It is true.” He took another deep breath.

“It seems like the princess survived the war.”

Yoongi stepped forward, keeping his hand on Namjoon’s shoulder. “Are you sure?”

Namjoon nodded.

“The wolf princess is alive and…she is in this city.”

To be continued…


Characters:  Dean x Reader, Sam

Summary:  Reader gets caught in the middle of a case Dean and Sam are working and learns that monsters are real.

Word Count:  2775

Warnings: Language, smut

As always, feedback is welcomed and appreciated.  There is still room on my Forever Tag list, you can add yourself here

Originally posted by winsync


Reader’s POV

“You okay?” 

A stunning man with vivid green eyes crouches before me, a hand on my shoulder. I blink a few times and take a quick assessment. Nothing seems broken, though I am most definitely battered and bruised. Blood trickles down from my brow, obscuring my vision. 

 Looking up at him, I nod. “Yeah, I’ll live.”

He stands and reaches out a hand, pulling me to my feet. Wait a second, I know him. He’s that Fed that came into my office at the museum today. Agent…Freed? Fredrick? Oh, wait, Frehley. Agent Frehley. That’s it. I remember thinking that he was cute. And a little flirty.

“Stick close to me, and no matter what, don’t leave my side, got it?” His jaw is set, he’s dead serious. As if I’d dream of doing anything else, after what had just happened.

“Got it.” Reaching around to the back of my jeans, I pull the gun out of my waistband. His eyes widen, surprised to see that I’m packing. 

“You just happen to have a gun?” he asks, his brows drawing together.

I shrug. As the daughter of a former policeman, I never leave home without it. “Looks like I’m not the only one, agent.” I spare a glance at the gun in his own hand. 

He nods sharply. It seems to please him that I’m armed. “If you see anything you can’t explain or don’t understand, don’t ask questions. Just…shoot. And keep shooting. It may not do much, but don’t stop.”

“I can do that.”  Again, he looks at me in surprise. Is he waiting for me to break into hysterics after what I’d just seen?  ‘Cause he can just keep waiting. There will be no breakdowns, not here. Once I get home and lock myself in, barricade the door, and arm myself to the teeth - that’s when I’ll have the breakdown. And it’s going to be one for the ages.

“With me,” he says and I take a deep breath before following after the man.

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elements1999  asked:

"You can trust me." - DJNoir (reveal?)

::Cackles in glee:: Yeeeeeessssssss Ninoir! 

“Come on this way,” Nino shouted grabbing the frantic looking boy by the hand and practically dragging him towards a small storage closet across from the library. They ran, both conscious of the high pitched beeps signaling the final minute. 

Nino through open the door to the closet and Chat Noir dove inside, slamming the door behind him just as a flash of brilliant green light burst out from the crack at the bottom of the door. 

Nino slumped to the floor, his back pressed against the closet door and his breathing heavy. That had been close. 

“You ok in their dude?” he asked between gasps. 

“Yeah, thanks,” came the nervous reply from the other side of the door. The voice sounded softer somehow. Probably a result of the lack of transformation. 

“Don’t worry, I promise I won’t try to look or anything,” Nino said, “you can trust me.” 

“I know,” Chat Noir replied. Nino flushed with pleasure at the indisputable certainty in the heroes voice. 

“Can I get you anything? Some water maybe,” he asked, tilting his head towards the door even though there was no way his companion could possibly see him. 

“Get me some cheese,” a different voice whined. 

“Plagg stop being a glutton for two seconds will you?” 

“But I’m hungry!” 

“Who is that?” Nino called curiously through the door. 

“Oh… it’s… well it’s Plagg. He’s my kwami. It’s sort of a long story.” 

“Is he like your superhero sidekick?” Nino asked excitedly. 

“Sidekick?! I am an immortal demi-god I am no one’s sidekick,” the high pitched voice shot back at him, “without me there would be no Chat Noir. If anything the kid is my sidekick.” 

“Oh,” Nino replied soaking up the information. Alya was going to be so jealous. 

“Now bring me some cheese, puny mortal, before I perish from starvation! preferably some well aged Camembert.” 

“Plagg!” the boy who was Chat Noir groaned, clearly embarrassed by the demi-gods demanding attitude. 

Nino couldn’t help but smile. How cool was this guy that he could be so chill towards an immortal being that grants you super powers? 

“It’s too bad my boy Adrien isn’t here,” he laughed as he pulled out his bag and began rummaging through it, “I swear he is obsessed with that stuff.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice,” the strange creature replied with a sly tone, “I bet your friend wouldn’t be stupid enough to leave all of his delicious camembert locked away in his bookbag instead of carrying it around in his pocket where it belongs.” 

“Plagg I swear to God-” Chat Noir growled, and Nino couldn’t hold back a small choked laugh. 

“Hey,” he cried triumphantly pulling out a small snack bag his mother had once again snuck into his satchel, “it’s not camembert, but I do have some Brie and-” 

Before he could finish the sentence a small black blur shot out through the door and landed on his knee. 

“Hand it over kiddo!” the tiny catlike creature purred, tail twitching in anticipation. 

Wordlessly Nino held out the small container full of grapes, crackers, and of course the coveted cheese. 

“So,” Nino called to Chat Noir as he watched the little god happily nibble on his treat, “does this happen often?” 

“Does what happen often?” he called back. 

“Getting stranded without your powers?” 

“Sadly more often than I would like,” he admitted, “its pretty rare that I am not the first one to use my powers but I can’t exactly just ditch My Lady in the middle of a battle. It’s a bit rough but I’ll take a few close calls if it means I keep the people I care about safe.” 

Nino grinned again. God this guy was cool. 

He wondered if anyone had ever given much thought to this particular dilemma Chat Noir faced. So much attention was given to Ladybug because of her amazing powers. Not that he thought she didn’t deserve the attention, but Nino had always felt that a lot of his friends undervalued how important Chat Noir was to the dynamic duo. Where others saw weakness- namely Chloe and Kim- he saw sacrifice. After all, how disastrous would it be if Ladybug ever fell under the influence of an akuma? Nino spent enough time hero chasing with Alya to know that most of hits Chat took were for the sake of his partner. Perhaps it was his devil may care attitude, or perhaps it was that unspoken knowledge that his powers were actually pretty terrifying, but not a lot of people seemed to give Chat Noir the kind of appreciation he deserved.

“You know,” Nino said careful, “no offence to Ladybug, but you’re my favorite.” 

“Really?” he replied sounding more than a little awed. 

“Yeah. I mean it’s a lot easier to be the hero when you get all the praise and the cool finishing move. It’s a lot harder to be the person who’s job it is to soak up the damage, you know?” 

“Thanks. I… it’s really nice to hear you say that.” 

“How old are you anyways? I mean if I’m allowed to ask.” 

“I just turned 16.” 

“Dude! You’re my age, that’s crazy!” Nino said with a chuckle. “How do you do it? How can you stand going out there every day knowing that any second you could be fighting another monster? Doesn’t it get exhausting?” 

“Sometimes. But it’s worth it. If it means I am protecting people like you, it will always be worth it.” 

Nino felt his cheeks go scarlet. “Wow man… thanks.” 

“I mean it,” Chat Noir said, his voice barely audible through the door, “you help make this fight worth fighting. You are brave and loyal, and don’t need superpowers to be one of the most heroic people I’ve ever met.” 

Nino’s breath caught. “I… jeez… what am I supposed to say to that?” he joked weakly, “Chat Noir is calling me a hero.” 

He heard a small scoffing sound from the little being still perched on his leg gobbling up the last of the cheese. “You’re little blogger friend was right. You two really are one of those obnoxious lovey-dovey couples.”



“How did you- she was talking about-” 

“I swear to God Plagg, you are not getting another bite of camembert for the rest of the month.” 


Damian as TT Animated Robin

Robin’s family was a bit of a mystery. The Teen Titans knew and respected that as best they could. It was just hard sometimes.

Or: five times the Teen Titans wondered about Dick Grayson without knowing they were wondering about Dick Grayson.

TT AU with Damian as 16 y/o TT!Robin, mostly grown up and much more comfortable than his eleven year old canon self.

Starfire and Raven were the two newest to the world—growing up in another dimension or another planet entirely was definitely a pretty good way to avoid TV news and pop culture.

While Raven put effort into getting to know her new world, it was a rather localized affair. She made a point of knowing what nightclubs and cafes had open poetry mics, an overview of the governmental systems currently in place, how to obtain a library card, and other such things that directly affected her day-to-day existence. Starfire seemed to enjoy the thrill of discovery and the inevitable subsequent sharing of culture that would occur whenever her teammates discovered something she had not previously encountered, and likewise enjoyed telling her teammates of similar practices on Tamaran, or the lack of them, as the case may have been.

Usually, their lack of connection with Earth culture (and very specifically, urban, Pacific Coast, United States culture) meant very little in the grand scheme of things. If they were caught off balance, most civilians gave them a pass because slightly strange faux pas were hardly the worst or strangest thing costumed heroes had done, and the Titans at least were sanctioned. Someone would explain things, get it all cleared up within a few minutes, and any destruction of property was written off and paid for in the cash pool specifically set aside for the inevitable accidents a group of superheroes would cause. So long as their mistakes didn’t cost anyone their lives there was compensation, and the lack of Earth knowledge was an eternal work-in-progress.

All things considered, it should have been expected that neither Raven nor Starfire knew about Nightwing.

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You and Me

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3

Originally posted by auliicraval

 A/N: This gif has absolutely nothing to do with the writing but Cameron Boyce is so cute. This sucks sm and I know that some of you guys didn’t ask to be tagged but you commented so I tagged you.

Tags: @opalescentobrien @pinkgirlisepic @emrysaaryn @bubbles2428 @sweet-nightingale-171

Carlos’s POV 

Where could she possibly be? I didn’t know her well enough to know where she’d go when she’s upset. (Y/N) didn’t seem like the type of person to go back to her room when she was hurt. I racked my knowledge of the campus and thought of the prettiest place in all of Auradon. The Enchanted Lake, that’s where she had to be.

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I believe I have made much mockery of Fionn mac Cumhail without actually giving enough reason for you to believe me that he is, indeed, in all seriousness, my favorite Irish mythological figure. So today, we shall do just that.

We already talked about Fionn’s origins and how he started his road down the path of kickasstitude, but let’s do a quick recap: He was raised by his two warrior moms (his aunt Bodhmall the Warrior-Druidess and her ‘friend’ Liath Luachra the Fighting Woman) and the three of them went on various adventures, some chronicled, most not, and all the while several hitmen were looking for him. His childhood name, Demne, was changed to Fionn, which means literally “white” or “bright”, in reference to his long, flowing white mane of hair, to mask him from those who pursued him due to his increasing fame.

Now, today, I want to talk to you about THE exploit that put Fionn on the map, and no, I am not talking about the Salmon thing, I mean an actual deed of martial mastery and weaponized self-mutilation.

Now an adult, Fionn found himself wandering the land, as he would always be turned away from various orders of knights when his employers realized who he was, since he was a wanted man and target of the mightiest knights ever, the Fianna Knights. Downtrodden but still resolute, Fionn arrived at the city of Tara. There was kind of a big problem with the city of Tara, however: It was burned down to the ground every year for the last 23 years. Not even the Fianna Knights could stop it.

Aillen the Burner was the one responsible for this. Once a year, for the last 23 years, Aillen had burned the city to the ground after using his magical music to put everyone to sleep in the city. Every year, he did this shit, and no one could stop him, because they were ASLEEP and USELESS while Aillen just burned things down with his fire breath calmly and at his own pace. Oh, yeah, by the by, Aillen was a Sidhe from Tuatha De Dannan, AKA a god-like existence. Stopping him wasn’t that simple.

But Fionn took one look at this dude and said “I AM GOING TO SUPLEX HIM”.

Fionn knew the event was to happen the day he arrived, so he made the necessary preparations. Actually, he didn’t, because each one of his testicles has a gravitational field and is harder than steel. He stood outside of the palace of Tara holding his Crane-Skin Bag of Weapons, patiently waiting.

NOW, FIONN FACT: Unlike many heroes, Fionn did not have a named weapon. Instead, his “weapon” was the Crane-Skin Bag. The Crane-Skin Bag, which had once belonged to his father, housed a myriad of magical weapons that Fionn would flexibly use in combat to meet the needs of any particular engagement. Fionn’s power, basically, was having an inventory. Like, you guys remember Doraemon?

Right, so basically, Doraemon is Fionn’s fursona. Literally the same character. The only difference is that Fionn was pulling out sick chainsaws and shotguns out of his bag instead of helicopter hats for his loser friend.

So Fionn was doing a newspaper sudoku, waiting for this shit to go down, when suddenly, over yonder, he heard a very suspicious voice.

“Yo yo yo I’m doing this I’m DOING THIS a 24th time baby #westside time to BURN WHORES”.

It was Aillen the Burner, with his beautiful song that lulls mortals to sleep! One by one, the citizens and warriors of Tara fell asleep like defenseless babes, and Aillen was readying his fire breath when he noticed one thing: Fionn, very much not asleep, was running at him at around 300 kilometers per hour, a huge spear in hand.

“Yo yo ok wtf the fuck, that’s never happened before, what’s your deal, how are you still awake?”

See, Aillen’s plan was, for the most part, flawless. He just failed to account for someone with just the right amount of senseless disregard for his own safety and neurons: Fionn came to the conclusion that if you just avoided falling asleep, Aillen himself couldn’t be too tough, if he was relying on this strategy in the first place. So did Fionn use his literal infinite salmon knowledge superpower to create a balm that would neutralize the effects of the lullaby? No, he didn’t, he just grabbed one of his spears, the poisoned one, and went to town on his own face with it to stay awake.

Let me say that again.

One of Fionn’s spears was poisoned with an extremely potent venom (like fucking every other spear in Irish mythos), and when I say potent, I don’t mean “it stings”, I mean “mere contact with the tip of the spear felt like dipping your fingers in magma”. He held his spear with both hands and, as he ran after Aillen, he kept smashing the tip of his spear against his own face to keep himself awake with the pain of the burning tip.


So Aillen, very reasonably scared shitless, ran. He ran for like three blocks and then the much physically superior Fionn caught up to him, his face ANGRY like a bull who had just been kicked in the balls by man in red spandex, grabbed him by the shoulder, and absolutely pincushioned him with spear thrusts like he was some Fist of the North Star live action adaption character. Fionn is actually the first recorded machine gun in history, and what gun companies nowadays use as a basis for their gatling guns, because holy fuck he just RIDDLED the dude into something that would make swiss cheese mold green with envy.

So this kinda left everyone very impressed and even more uncomfortable because, holy shit, ok, Fionn, uh, saved them all, but he’s also the dude they were supposed to kill. How the fuck do you kill THAT? I mean he kinda just killed a god by smashing a spear against his own face repeatedly REALLY HARD for a good while, do YOU want to go against that kind of man? That’s the kind of shit someone with nothing to lose steps away from. Damn.

So, with no viable options other than Not Fighting That Lunatic, Fionn’s heritage was acknowledged, and Goll, in his wisest moment ever recorded, stepped away voluntarily. Goll mac Morna was the guy who staged the coup that killed Fionn’s dad and stole the Fianna Knights leadership from him. The other guy that indirectly killed Fionn’s dad, Tadg mac Duanat, gave Fionn his beautiful house on the hills of Allen to Fionn in exchange for not obliterating him in loud, bloody, gory vengeance. Fionn accepted. Reminder that Tagd is also Fionn’s grandfather on his mother’s side.

And that’s how Fionn regained his rightful ownership of the Fianna Knights, stopped being a wanted man, and killed a god through sheer masochism.

The moral of the story is that if you can beat the fuck out of your own face, your enemies will assume you can do that to their faces just as fine, and they will give you free real estate so you don’t do that.