and I have certain head canons and such

5

>points to this message a million times over-

Nanami knew best that Komaeda was up against impossible circumstances where everything was set up for him to act in a certain way given the nature of his personality. If the circumstances were different he would not have acted in the absolutely vile way he did (coughIslandmodecough which is completely AU canon and he doesn’t do a damned thing in that mode).

She knew that he, as well as everyone else, was redeemable and up against the shittiest circumstances imaginable. She still wanted to protect and keep them all alive. Nanami needs every ounce of love but also all the other kids do too because she said so.

We all seem to accept certain head canons as facts in the Kingsman (beyond Harry Lives) at least as far as I have come across.

We all call the little sister Daisy
Percival is a sniper
Merlin has tattoos under those sweaters
Harry is a little shit
Eggsy is bi or pan

feel free to add to the list

Let Him Run

Hello humans of the internet !! Particularly those who have fallen in love with a certain silver haired speedster. 

So scribblecrumbs​ and I made a little thing about pietro and nathaniel. Basically, we took one of her headcanons and canoned it head on.

Here you go! 

Warning: Angst, Fluff, Tiny Adidas, Little Barton 


(x) (x)


Let Him Run
by scribblecrumbs & mycacoeths

(BigBrother!Pietro Maximoff-Barton & LittleMunchkin!NathanielBarton)


Nathaniel Pietro Barton was the apple of everyone’s eyes, even his siblings and his uncle Tony’s. But no one loved Nathaniel Pietro Barton like his very own somewhat adopted older brother, Pietro.

Since Pietro woke up from his “deep sleep” from the dead, Clint took him to his barn as bed rest before he got back on the field. And ever since he got there, he had fallen in love with the children, especially the one who was named after him. It had been a usual happening that Pietro was to steal little Nathaniel away from his own mother every now and then. Even during the first weeks, when he was equipped with crutches and wrapped in bandages all over, he would ask for Laura to bring the baby to him on the couch and he would give him his bottle.

It was definitely an advantage to have Pietro around for Clint and Laura because ever since the kids grew fond of him, be with him is the only thing they would ever think of doing, lifting off some weight from their shoulders, and Pietro didn’t mind it one bit. Wanda would occasionally drop by and pay her brother and their new family a visit (yes, the Barton’s have adopted the Maximoff’s out of sheer pleasure and admiration) and whenever she would, it wouldn’t be a surprise to Clint for him to find little Lila floating around the house, wrapped in a cocoon of red wisps.

When Pietro had been all healed up, he decided to stay for a little more in the Barton household to help around and watch the kids whilst Clint was out doing a mission. This lead to Nathaniel getting attached to him even more and him trying to start running at the young age of 11 months.

It was around winter when it happened. Pietro and Wanda’s first Christmas with a real family after so many years. Everyone was scattered around the house, Pietro still currently had the last of his casts around his torso. He was rested against the foot of the couch with his head reclined back on the seat and his legs sprawled out onto the baby-friendly carpeted floor whilst he watched Nathaniel roll around on the floor.

“You are cute,” he told him, giving him a playful glare as the child stared at him with his big doe eyes. “But I am cuter,”

Nathaniel giggled, as if he understood what Pietro had even told him, causing Pietro to grin and scoop him up from the floor and tickle his sides. “I take it back, you are cuter,”

Nyy—,” Nathaniel gurgled, making little bubbles from his mouth. Pietro grinned and lifted him up, “Nyoom!” he bellowed and extended his arms out to look at the baby to find him laughing his little heart out. Recently, Pietro had made it a habit to say “nyoom” whenever he sped around the household to amuse the children and prevent Laura from getting startled to see him appearing everywhere out of nowhere. And apparently, Nathaniel had picked up on it.

“Let us try out my little one’s strong legs, yes?” Pietro grinned and set Nathaniel’s feet upon his thighs. Pietro laughed as he watched Nathaniel tilt over and wobble whenever his hands would hover away from the child’s sides. “You can do it, cel mic,” Pietro then set Nathaniel back on the carpet and slowly hovered his hands away from Nathaniel’s sides as the baby slowly found his balance. Nathaniel held onto Pietro’s arm as he used his little legs to stay standing for longer. After a few moments of him standing, he began to wobble his legs, an attempt to start walking, or worse, running. Pietro grinned at the sight and called out, “Miss Laura, Old Man! Take a look at this!” And in an instant, Clint and Laura came rushing in the room, thinking that Pietro had placed Nathaniel on top of the Christmas tree again. When Laura and Clint came in the room, Pietro held little Nathaniel up in the air as Nathaniel kicked his legs forward and cried out, “Nyoo! Nyoo!”


At the age of a year and a half, Pietro received the pleasure of winning the “mama-dada” competition. Nathaniel’s first coherent set of syllables were “Pee-tee” which is what he uses to call for Pietro. At times, he would run away from his father’s embrace to get to his Pee-tee’s; and sometimes at night, he would somehow slip out of his crib and find his way to Pietro’s room, making Pietro be forced to spend a night on the rocking chair beside Nathaniel’s crib and suffer back pains in the morning.


At one point, Nathaniel had become territorial with the name he had given Pietro, claiming it as his and only his name for his quick older sibling. Clint had once tried using the term “Pee-tee” to tell Nathaniel that he was going to be left with Pietro for a while.

“You’ll be left with Pee-tee tonight, okay, buddy?” Clint smiled at Nathaniel, kissing his plump cheek before setting him down in his crib. Clint then noticed his child’s lower lip stuck out and trembling and his eyes glossy with oncoming tears. Clint opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by Nathaniel wailing and screaming at his father.

“Wha—,”

“Clint, please,” Pietro sighed, suddenly appearing beside the archer and taking Nathaniel out of his crib and into his arms, “Don’t do that,” he said, shaking his head before walking out of the nursery and into the lounge, leaving a stunned and confused Clint behind.

“Do what?”

Times flew by and years passed and soon enough, Nathaniel was going to preschool and then elementary. It was Pietro and Clint and all the Avengers, all dirty and stinky, who brought him to his first day in first grade, having just come home from a mission early in the morning, just in time to catch Laura dropping Nathaniel off in the front yard of the school. The parents and children’s faces were absolutely priceless when they saw earth’s mightiest heroes give their little nephew a kiss on the cheek before they sent him off inside.

And then the day came. Tony had bet Steve fifty for predicting it; Wanda saw it coming, Thor wasn’t uncultured enough not to see it, Banner felt it in his bones and Clint, Laura and Natasha just knew.

“Mommy,” said Nathaniel, taking a spoon in his mouth with a mountain full of jell-o on it, during dinner with the whole family one night. Muffled, he proceeded, “I wanna join the trekking fields,”

Laura scrunched up her eyebrows together in confusion, “The what, sweetheart?”

Lila sighed, understanding, and relaying the message clearer to their mother, “He wants to join track and field, mama.”

Clint raised a brow muttering out an enthusiastic, “Ooo,” whilst Pietro was off his seat, yelling out, “YES!”, causing sprinkles of Jell-O to rain on Clint’s face.

Almost immediately, Pietro was already sprinting around the house— from his bedroom to the dining room— setting down tiny running gear he had purchased for this moment, simultaneously muttering words along the lines of, “I knew this was going to happen. I saw this coming, and I have prepared for this moment. Look at the tiny Adidas I made for you with Uncle Stark— I mean, technically I made them, I designed them… okay, maybe I just colored the blue print with crayons but that’s not the point- TADA!”

And before them all was a set of gear, as if Nathaniel were to be going on a mission with his dad.

Laura shook her head and turned to Nathaniel, “Are you sure about this, sweetie?”

“Of course he is!”  

Wanda glared at her twin, “Hush, Pietro!”

Pietro sat back down and leaned back on his seat, “Sorry, sorry,”

Nathaniel nodded, “I wanna be a runner like Pee-tee.” Silently, Clint groaned, “Pee-tee.”

“But don’t you think it’s a bit too early for this? Don’t you want to try it next year?” It wasn’t that Laura was unsupportive, it was mostly the motherly drive that made her want Nathaniel to stay her little baby forever and also she didn’t want her son to get hurt.

“Why wait?” Cooper, now all big and grown up, muttered. Laura glared at him, causing him to retaliate and hide behind his glass of water.

“Yes, why wait?” Pietro pouted. “I am right here, I can train him. He will be the VVP!”

MVP, Pietro,” Lila, now all grown up too, corrected with a light giggle. Pietro rolled his eyes at her and waved her off, dismissing the topic, “The point it, he will be a great runner.”

“Please, mama?” Nathaniel drawled, leaning forward and pouting. Laura looked at him hesitantly in return, so he turned to his father, “Papa?”

“Why the hell not?” Clint snorted, stuffing his face with the mashed potatoes, “Let the kid run.”

“Yes, let the kid run!”

Laura frowned and turned to her one and only, or so she thought, ally, “Wanda?”

Turning to Wanda, she already been inspecting the tiny Adidas, “I don’t know, I think he should go for it.”

“Yes!” Pietro squealed and ran over to pick Nathaniel up to sit on his shoulders. Laura sighed and shook her head, “Pietro, no,”

“Mama, yes!” Nathaniel cheered. Laura turned to Clint who had a turkey leg stuffed in his mouth. Startled, he muffled out, “Clint, maybe?”

Soon enough, all five of their children were chanting “let him run”, leaving Laura no other choice.

She sighed, yet with a smile, “We’ll let him run then.”


Bzzztt! Pietro groaned along with the dull buzzing that vibrated against his chest. In all honesty, he already knew who was calling and he already knew what it was about. He pulled out The Phone (the one only Bartons could have) before dispatching another gunman. All in all taking about half a second to reply. “Yes?” out came a casual drawl, in no way betraying the fact that, at the moment, he was actually flipping over piece of now-ruined wall. “If this is because I’m late, I’ll have you know I’m very aware.”

“Are you still out on that mission? I thought it was just a quick info gather.” came the reply, “Are you kiddies having some difficulties?”

“Very funny, Clint,” someone was taking some shots from above him. It only took a second to have the offender tied against some pipes and his bullets rattling on the ground, “The silly scientists ran into a problem, otherwise I’d be back already.”

 “Excuse me?” Incidentally, Pietro had just returned to the scientists in question. “It’s not our fault that their equipment was damaged when we got here. Besides, Fitz is working as quickly as possible.”

 “British people are annoying; did you know that, Clint?” A scoff echoed from the other side of the line.

 “I’m Scottish!” Fitz muttered from where he was laying underneath a console, his hands buried in wires, “No one ever gets it right.”

 “Yes, well, this whole delay has me missing my little brother’s first track meet and, at the moment, dodging bullets, so forgive me for not putting more thought into your original country.” Pietro was already across the compound again, throwing more thugs left and right.

“Be careful, Piet.” The slightly concerned archer was still listening from the other side of The Phone, “You don’t have a good track record with bullets.”

 “Oh ye of little faith, the flying machine guns have yet to appear, so I think I’m still safe.” He taunted before a rapid popping broke the air, “Oops, scratch that, machine guns have appeared. You eggheads may want to hurry up!”


“You know he’s rather disappointed that you aren’t here. Keeps saying you’ll just show up at the last second in a big ‘NYOOM!'” how Pietro managed to fight and still talk on The Phone is a bit of a mystery, but the superspeed was probably helpful.

 “Hey, Quicksilver! Get your ass over here, we’re ready!” the British (and Scottish) duo yelled from their spot under a console.

  “It’s not as if this is deliberate, old man.” Pietro scoffed, “I am trying to get this over and done with. To which it is now over, so I just need to get done with. Give me a sec.” and with that he hung up The Phone. A necessary action, considering that he needed both arms for the next part of the plan.

 “Alright, hands and feet inside the ride at all times!” Pietro ran back around to the scientists and in one sweeping motion, not slowing for a second, he picked them both up, one under each arm. “I have always wanted to say that,” he exclaimed, grinning as he left the compound in the dust.

 “Aaaanddddd,” he drew out the word as they came to a stop, “we’re here!” The whole trip had barely taken a minute. The Quinjet was only a few miles out, just enough to keep out of sight but still provide a fast getaway. After all, Pietro could carry both of them for very long. Though it was less a problem with his strength and more that it was a rather uncomfortable position for them.

They were already inside the Quinjet when they stopped and Pietro could feel the transport vibrate as it took off. Conveniently it had come with a pilot attached, so now all three of them could simply relax.

The scientists were already opening up laptops and other myriads of equipment. Fitz plugged a small USB into the side of one computer and began to race through the information is provided.

 “So we just went through all that for a tiny USB?” Pietro scoffed, “and it took you that long to get it?”

 “We told you,” came the condescendingly British answer, “their equipment was damaged and Fitz had to fix it before we could get at the information. Now stop complaining.”

Muttering to himself about snobby scientists, he once again withdrew The Phone from where he’d stowed it in his suit and called Clint back. “Finished?” was the immediate reply.

“Yup, currently on a Quinjet,”  Pietro grumbled, “I’ve gotta do the whole mission report thingy before they let me go.”

 “Aaandddd?  What? You couldn’t run back to base?” sarcasm practically dripped from the phone.

 “Pfft, you already know the answer.  If I run much more without something really large to eat, it’s gonna turn into spontaneous passing out,” Pietro withdrew a protein bar from a pocket and started unwrapping it, he had almost 10 of them stowed on his person at all times, “I have a feeling that might delay me even longer.”

 “Yeah, yeah, don’t go getting all snappy at me.  I gotta get my laughs from somewhere, after all.”  Clint’s voice took on a mischievous tone, “Oh, by the way, Nathaniel just finished his run.”

 “And when were you planning on telling me?!” Pietro practically leapt of his seat, literally buzzing with excitement.  “How did he do?  Did he win? What place did he get?  He won didn’t he?!” His words jumbled together as he bounced up and down.

  “Calm down!  Hearing aids do not make it easier to understand the super-fast-talk,” Clint barked, amusement lacing his speech.  “Nathaniel got first, of course.  With all the running you two have been doing, how could he get anything less?”

  “WHOOOHOO!” Pietro yelled, startling everyone else in the Quinjet as a blue blur began racing through the plane.

“I-uh-could he maybe….stop?” Fitz mumbled, still trying to focus on his computers, but the yelping speedster wasn’t helping with his concentration.

 “HE WON!” Pietro yelled, his excitement practically bubbling out of his body.  “His first track meet and he wins!”

 “Uh, congrats?”


 

 Pietro did indeed run to the track meet after the mission’s debrief, “nyoooming” in to hug his baby brother.  The hug then turned into a giant swing as Pietro spun in a circle. “I knew you would win!” He grinned as he set down the boy, giving his mop of hair an affection brush.

As he laughed, however, he noticed the dejected look on Nathaniel’s face. “Hey?” he poked, “What’s wrong, bud? Didn’t you win?”

“Well,” the kid stared down at his feet, “It’s just that you weren’t there to see it.”

 Understanding dawned on Pietro’s face, “Oh,” came the stunted reply.  He had to figure out how to fix this, but he really wasn’t sure what he could say to make up for his lateness.  “I’m really sorry, Nath.  I was off being a hero.  Remember when your daddy talked to you about that?  I can’t always be here, even went I want to be.”

 “I know,” his reply sounded a bit depressed, “But there’s just so much stuff I wanna do and I don’t want you to miss it.  And Coop mentioned once that superheroes don’t always come back.”  Big blue eyes stared up at Pietro, a little hopeful and scared.  “And he said that you already came close once, but I don’t want you to leave.” His voice was bordering on pleading.

 Shit, Pietro thought, why the hell did Cooper think that was something to tell a ten year-old?  That kid was gonna get it after Pietro fixed this mess.  “Look,” he pulled the younger boy into a hug, “There is a chance that I could leave and not come back, but you have to remember that it’s never my choice to stay away from you.  I’ll never stop being an Avenger, but I’ll also never stop being your brother. Don’t worry about me.”  

Those damn eyes were looking up at him again, a tad more watery than before. Nathaniel nodded at him, his eyes held a bit more understanding than before.  Pietro scooped him up in his arms, “How about we go get some ice cream? Hmm?  Gotta celebrate that victory!” He plastered a grin onto his face and looked down to see a smile beginning to bloom on the boys’ face.

NYOOOOOOOMMMMM!” was all that could be heard as the two of them sped down the street.


FOLLOW MY BOO AND SEND HER SOME LOVE 

Bonus!: I created a rune for the Dentree and tried to make a fake runestone out of it. I think I did pretty good.

Head canon time! Prominent clans or decently powerful magi and sorceri can have their own runes, like a personal or family crest.

Regalia Runes can be used as territorial markers or painted on scroll cases, sometimes tattooed on the clan’s official envoys and couriers. Generally these runes do not have any inherent magical power unless from ancient clans whose will and magic have fed the rune for generations giving it its own magical significance. Infused regalia runes can be interchanged with the rune ‘Clan’ to represent the family, link, and love attributes in certain defensive spells, making them even more powerful when used within the territory.

Name runes or Alias runes are those that are created by a single individual, almost always a magic user as other dragons really have no use for them. The rune is infused with their energy and essentially 'tattooed’ to their soul. If one were to dispell a spell or curse cast by these magic users, their rune can be glimpsed in the dispersion of energy. It is a signature that spell slingers can use to identify one another. 

Name runes can also be used in spirit summoning circles, if carefully written, to call forth energy fragments of a deceased magic user and can be conversed with, limited as memory fragments are, but still a good sources for obscure information for those willing to risk the magical feedback that comes with botching very delicate and easily ruined summoning spells.

Silver Lining: Part VI

Prompt: Hi there! I have a Valentine’s Day request! How about one where Dean and the reader have known each other since they were kids and how Valentine’s Day has changed for them over the years (friendship to relationship, unrequited affection etc.) and like little snaps of certain Valentine’s days that are memorable. I hope that makes some sense lol, it sounded a lot better in my head. I can try to explain it more if it’s too confusing :)

Word Count: 3,240

Warnings: This is where this universe strays a little bit away from the heart-wrenching direction the canon universe has taken.

Author’s Note: I—*clears throat*—have a teeny tiny surprise for you there.

Let me know what you think?  

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Keep reading

Don’t fuck with my Sentry here.

X3 he’s so fun to draw.

this pic was born of the idea of how pegasi control weather, I developed this head canon that all pegasi have the ability to control weather to a certain level but there are some that have more affinity with certain elements, like water, wind and of course, lightning.

So I just took Flash’s cutiemark and worked my idea over it. My man here has affinity with electricity, he’s able to attract lightning in to his body and expel it in a concentrated beam through his spear. That doesn’t mean that it’s not a bit painful though hehe.

though it is a pretty awesome technique, he can only do it once a while since it requires tremendous work.

I’m not gonna over power him to much LOL

this is not something only he can do, there are other pegasi with electric affinity that may learn and control this technique *cough* *cough* Thunderlane *cough* Lightning Dust.

Strange Magic Head Canon: In Which It’s Okay to Say No to a Ring

Okay but what if Dawn got so nervous at her wedding that she ran. Marianne didn’t have any idea where she was and an all out search party was sent across the Fey Kingdom. Thankfully she was running into the Dark Forest.

And even more thankful was the fact that a certain King was on his way to the celebration when a blonde Fairy in white, sobbing her eyes out, rammed into him and sent them spiraling into a tree, him realizing just in time who it was, wrapping gangly limbs round her to keep her wings from cutting against rough bark.

The rest is as you would expect it to be.

They sit together on the root of an old maple. She sniffles, laughing through the tears that she’s in love… but she’s just so young and what if she isn’t ready?What if she has more to do? What if there’s something else that’s meant to happen…

And she knows what her sister would say- “You’re in love,” Dawn wiped at her eyes drearily, “and Sunny’s great. And if he’s not, I’ll punch him in the face.”

“She would say that,” Bog chuckled, leaning back easily against bark that matched his own hide, so much so that at times she looked up and had to blink twice to find his shape again. “And she’d do it to, love.”

“I know.”

He’d reach out, awkwardness lost to care for the little girl of flowers and cages and endless light, tipping her head up to better mirror blue with cerulean. “You don’t have ta do anythin’, Darling. That’s the beauty of all’a this. It’s a choice.”

She’d nod into his palm and tears, escaping fat and slow, dripped a languid beat against a Goblins wrist. “I know… but… but Sunny would hate me. He’d think-” she’d sniff again. “He’d think I didn’t love him.”

“Nonsense. Sunny loves ye. That’s what ye do fer people ye love. Ye wait.”

“You and Marianne never wait for anything.”

Bog would hum low in his throat. “I asked her ta marry me a few days ago. Ye know that?”

“What!?”

“Aye. Asked her ta-”

She didn’t tell me that you two were-”

“We aren’t.”

Dawn paused, gaped, and then her eyes still filled with unshed tears wobbled with the threat of even more, lip beginning its telltale quiver. Bog’s hands shot out, waving the air to hand on her shoulders. “No! No, we- we’re still together, Dawn. It’s a’right!”

There was distrust in her gaze, and her lip gave another pitiful waver. “Y-you are?” 

“Aye,” his smile was fond and dutiful, taking away his hand to flick at her nose, chuckling when a giggle was the prize received. “We are.”

Her smile dropped, brow furrowing. The trenches across her brow told stories of past loves and weddings run from, and Goblin that had no place being a part of those terrible memories. “Then… then why would she-”

“She said no because she isn’t ready.”

“And you-”

“I said that I’d wait.” He shrugged, and in that moment Dawn did her best to find the tragedy, but none surfaced. She wiped her nose against the back of her hand, sinking back into the root, defeated in an understanding she had yet to grasp and a title of bride that was as shaky as it was wanted. 

“Y-you’re not… upset…?”

“Why should I be?” He shrugged again, shoulder plates fluttering. “We will one day. An’ she’s still with me an’ I’m with ‘er. If she isn’t ready, I won’t make ‘er.”

“But… why!”

“Because Dawn,” and he stood then, reaching out a clawed hand to help her to her feet,” if ye have ta ask if ye love someone, then ye don’t. And if ye have to ask if yee’r ready, then yer not. It’s easy as that, yeah?”

“So… you’re really okay with it?”

“Aye.”

“And you’re not mad?”

“Ney. Not a wee bit.” He’d give her hand a squeeze to match the warm smile in his eyes. “I love her. With everythin’ I have. An’ I want her happy.”

“But are you?”

“I have her, don’t I?”

Dawn wouldn’t marry Sunny that day because nothing should have to be asked. But they would, one year later, when she proposed to him after a sudden lack of question marks was found in the space she’d claimed as sanctuary held tightly in his arms. 

anonymous asked:

How do you think Hux would be like when he's drunk?

OMG Nonny-Monkey, I actually have a very definitive head canon for this question. I know some people who love to picture a drunk Hux that’s completely impulsive, and the complete polar opposite of sober Hux, but to be honest with you, I can’t see it. I think Hux is so much of a control freak that even drunk he’d still maintain a certain amount of composure (I also think he’s the type that would monitor his alcohol intake so he gets just drunk enough to let lose, but never so completely hammered that he loses all inhibition and blacks out). The difference with drunk Hux and sober Hux though, is sober Hux is just WAY too composed all the time, that’s canon. He sort of just takes all the shit that’s thrown at him and doesn’t say anything. Ever. Except in those little bursts of snark he throws at Kylo, and the little angry muscle twitches in front of Snoke, he pretty much holds it all back. Judging by his resting murder face, I think it’s a safe bet to assume that Hux doesn’t just let those things go. No. He bottles them up and lets them build. Then, one night, he has a few too many and it’s like a dam just bursts and it all comes out in one, long, salty rant. He has an organized list too, he’s been keeping it for months, adding too it every time something pisses him off, My Drunk Discussion Points, he calls the list. It’s got bullet points. He makes sure to cover them all. He doesn’t leave any stone unturned.  So yeah, drunk Hux is defiantly the salty rant kind of drunk. 

Here’s a snippet of one of those long salty rants, where he’s only just barely touched upon one subcategory of a single bullet point: 

2

That feeling when you’re a morning person but you stay up all night anyways to talk to the boyfriend who is a night owl. In the morning you’re both tired - you, because you’re used to waking up early and he because you accidentally woke him up a lot sooner than he’s used to.

A sleepy Tamlen Lavellan for the Inquisitor drawing meme.

“4. How their pajamas look like.” was requested by @iio-in-thedas! For sleeping he usually just wears those rather loose-fitting pants. Aaand he probably woulndn’t walk around Skyhold like that (not that certain people would have something against it). But he’d feel more comfortable wearing a shirt. And - since I couldn’t get the idea out of my head anymore (and you asked for it :D) I added the non-canon halla slippers :D Either way, I want them!!

Also, have a bonus sleepy bedhead Tamlen in all his glory:

DEAL WITH A DEVIL pt 1 of something

Gravity Falls Transcendence AU! So this completely contradicts some of the head canon out there but I started writing this before I’d read it and I’m a little attached to this now so that is okay with me. Set after a certain fic which is definitely not mine and which I will link here. (Is that allowed? Well, I hope so, because I wrote this thing and it’s not over yet.)

Deal with a Devil; 4415 words. Hope you guys like it!

Keep reading

Marinette and Money

Why is my heart so certain that Marinette’s parents come from money?  At least one of them does, and since we know pretty much nothing about Tom, I’m willing to bet it’s her mom.

They live in a very nice flat (double floors, big bay windows, a loft with a rooftop view) just across the Seine from Notre Dame (ep 16), which places them right about the 6th Arrondissement, (maybe the 5th) which is known for being trendy and expensive.  Real estate in Paris is expensive!  Did one of them live in that house forever?  Did someone inherit it?  Or did they just straight up buy it?  Either way, it speaks of money!

Everything in their house is tastefully decorated.  They are clearly not living in squalor, though they don’t have any of the ostentatious affections of the Agreste family- a gigantic, Spartan dining room in which only Adrien ever eats? (if I had to bet, I would say Gabriel is new money.  Who tries that hard and then never, ever, uses the space?)  

They have things.  Aside from the decorations, Marinette and her dad have a console at least new enough to keep up with Mecha Strike 3.  Marinette has her own television, a work station, a well-furnished room…  Marinette pursues her passion to make clothes by designing and creating new stuff all of the time.  Anyone who has done a single DIY project from Pinterest can tell you that it’s way more expensive than just buying the thing.  Anyone who cosplays can tell you that doing it well is really expensive. Marinette does not have her own part time job (is that a thing in France?) but she is able to pursue this as well as hang out with friends.  Any of y’all teens out there (and ‘grown ups’, lol) know how quickly money goes.

I guess that Marinette’s mom is the source of the money for a few different reasons: her uncle is a world-renowned chef, which takes time and effort in its own right.  Assuming someone helped him achieve the education, who? There’s a lot of nouveau riche in China from the last three or four decades of expanded economic growth, but the family-centered expectation in east Asian culture is such that it would not surprise me if Sabine’s family also had enough wealth for her to travel in her younger years, during which time she met a strapping young Frenchmen who dreamed of being a baker.

Sabine also dresses better than Tom, wearing a modified cheongsam.  Sure he’s baking a lot but he only ever wears a t-shirt and trousers?  YOU’RE IN PARIS, TOM, DRESS IT UP ;P

And they HAVE a bakery, a really successful bakery, which has clientele including metropolitan news anchors. 

Lots of little thoughts.  But basically, the Dupain-Cheng family is probably not “as wealthy” as the Agreste family, but they are certainly not hurting for money.  And they are probably richer in the way that counts anyway ;)

Like Flower, Like Albus

Here is a short one-shot I have done for Scorpius/Albus that will eventually be the beginning of a certain fanfic I will put up eventually. Hope you enjoy!

REMINDER: In my fanfics, I have Scorpius with slightly messy hair when he becomes a little older unlike his father and grandfather because it is just a head-canon that I have always had for him.


The now eighteen-year-old Albus Potter sat in his favorite spot on the property right outside of Hogwarts—his favorite spot being a specific large and tall tree—with a quill and notebook in his hand, as well as small bits of crumbs in his other hand to feed his pet canary inside her cage.

Besides feeding his new beloved pet and jotting down certain spells, creatures, and charms for preparation for the N.E.W.T he was to take in a few days, he was waiting for his boyfriend; they would always stay side by side for a while once it became dark, but not for THAT long of a while for them to pass their curfew.

Albus chose this specific tree because barely anyone else fancied being very close to the Whomping Willow; which it was. It was a wondrous place to avoid other students to tease him or to talk his ear off, and to have a good time alone with just him and his partner.

With his heart suddenly beating faster and his posture suddenly straightening up, the dark-haired teen saw his expected and awaited pale-blond companion strutting over to him.

“Hello there, birthday boy,” Scorpius greeted, with his usual genuine, joyful, and composed grin.

He appeared to have both of his hands hiding behind his back for some reason, but Al didn’t bother questioning it just yet.

“I get it, it’s my birthday. You’ve already wished me a happy birthday FIVE times. I kept count,” Albus remarked, smirking.

Scorpius’ grin remained as he took two steps forward.

“I know, but I did not give you a birthday present, now did I?” Scorpius inquired, playfully raising an eyebrow.

“No you didn’t,” Albus acknowledged. “But you are about to apparently? To think that I was sitting here, thinking about how I have such a bad boyfriend.”

“Har har har,” Scorpius retorted, tilting his head to the left and then to the right as he said it.

The taller teen slowly unveiled his arms and held out his hand grasping onto something; it was flower.

The flower was a vibrant blue with an unusual shape: a shape of an umbrella. The stem was large and curved, and it had a very strong delightful scent.

“I have seen those sort of flowers before,” Albus pointed out, standing up and observing it. “Only they were much bigger. Did you get it from the Greenhouse?”

“I did,” Scorpius responded. “With a big amount of help from the diminuendo incantation, it worked like a charm.”

Both of Albus’ thin and dark eyebrows rose upwards. “Wow. Did you come up with that ingenious joke all by yourself?”

“Well, naturally,” Scorpius remarked, proudly but at the same time using his friend’s sarcasm back at him.

Abruptly, Scorpius’ free hand dragged over to his head so his long and slender fingers ran through his messy hair, and his eyes would anchor towards the other teen’s direction and then away in just a second.

“Every time I looked up and saw these Umbrella Flowers in our first Herbology class, there was always ONE that stood out to me, and that was this navy-blue one. It reminded me of you because it’s different, and pretty….well, maybe not PRETTY, I mean it IS, but for you it’s more, well….nice to look at. Also your favorite color has always been navy-blue, so, that’s another reason,” Scorpius explained, nervously.

Albus chuckled softly and took the flower from Scorpius’ hand.

“Only Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy could look at a flower and come up with a whole description of comparing it to a person just by looking at it,” Albus stated.

“That’s not true,” Scorpius argued. “Poets could.”

“Yes, but they are no Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy,” Albus said, winking.

“Now THAT I could agree with,” Scorpius said, his face now having a red hue to it.

Albus allowed himself to take a good sniff of the flower and he smiled comfortably. “It smells like fresh rain.”

“So, do you like it?” Scorpius asked, unsure.

“No. I hate it,” Albus said dryly.

“Albus,” Scorpius said with a slanted smile, crossing his arms.

Albus roughly tugged onto Scorpius’ green and silver striped tie and said, “I love it.”

The blond was caught by surprise when the brunette’s slightly rough but luscious lips hungrily yet softly pressed against his, but his eyes soon closed and he eagerly kissed back.

Albus pulled away not too long after and whispered, “Thanks.”

American!Jin

So I once had a conversation with an anon about this and some people actually requested I turn it into a series so now here we are! This is going to be another mini series but this time it’s about what it would be like if the boys were born in America, to start it off like always, the shoulder hyung Kim Seokjin aka Jin

  • Jin’s English is actually really good as is and is so so underrated but needs to be highly appreciated bc he has lil accent and its so cute
  • Head canon that even though he’d grown up in America, he still had a slight accent with certain words
  • Like it would never be too bold or clear that he has an accent but on a few words it comes out just a lil bit and it’s the cutest thing ever
  • He seems more like a small town boy to me
  • He would be from one of the towns that not many people have heard of but he would love it
  • Jin seems like such a family man so I think to him, a small town just means a really big family
  • He’s the kid that kinda just knows everyone like on his way to school he’s just greeting every person that walks by bc hey friends !!!
  • He’d be the town sweetheart like everyone knew him as the kid who spent his weekends helping others
  • Like it wasn’t rare for him to just drop by people’s work and just be like hey I am here to help want me to file those papers for you hey man I can bag those groceries no problem
  • If he ever did leave his lil town to go to college or have a career elsewhere he would also promise that once he started his own family, he’d go back bc his home was that lil town and he loved it with all of his heart
  • Whenever people asked him about it, he just gets this really wide smile and you can tell he was so so happy living there and that he misses it so much and he’d tell such fond stories of it
  • American!Jin is just a small town girl living in a lonely world boy who has big dreams and never forgets where he came from

For those who have been following my stuff since the beginning, you probably remember a character of mine named Clover. She was a short, goth type punk with a bad attitude. She had a very unique design, but over time she became a chore to draw and it wasn’t very fun. Her hairstyle was difficult to get at from certain angles and not a lot of people took interest in her. I had a few things going with her, including a personal head canon ship with one of my friends characters.  

I’ve been thinking about her lately and I’ve really been wanting to bring her back. I took a look at old sketches of her and reflected on how I came to create her in the first place. I originally didn’t plan for her to be goth, more of a stoner type. I figured I’d go with that to see what I could come up with. I also wanted to change her attitude a bit. I mean everyone likes the pissy tsundere type, but it would be a lot more enjoyable to draw her if she was more of a jokey smart ass. All that couple with some brand new concept ideas, I came up with a new design for her character.

For you followers who are new or don’t remember Clover all that well, I’ll give you just a little bio about who she is now.

Abigail (Clover) Edwards

A 23 year old college dropout, who could literally give less fucks about anything in the world. She lives ( or more like crashes) in an apartment with her partner Ari ( A character of ric-m ) and her twin brother. Unemployed and probably sticking to it, she usually spends her days toking up or listening to music. She tends to get on peoples nerves with her smartass attitude, but she could really care less. As long as you don’t get on her bad side, she’s always welcoming to her own little world. 

I have this headcanon where even if Lavellan doesn’t romance Cullen, he’s still in love with her. Thinking about that, certain scenes become a lot more emotionally charged, like in the beginning during the destruction of Haven when the herald is sacrificing herself as a distraction to save everyone else. The way his eyes linger full of sorrow…

My Lavellan felt a connection with Cullen from the moment they met, but her heart lay elsewhere. Naive when it comes to relationships - because growing up in a clan when you’re First will do that - she gave her heart to Solas on a silver platter and after he left her, she fell to pieces. The only one who could put her back together again was Cullen with gentle nudges like leaving flowers by her bed, hugging her, braiding her hair to calm her down when she fought back the sobs threatening their way out of her mouth, pulling her out of her cave of a bedroom by opening the windows and curtains and forcing her to go outside with him and he would give her these shitty excuses.

Little by little, she would return to her vibrant self because of Cullen’s TLC and affection.

HiroLemon head canon time! (seriously, what’s wrong with me?)

So, kimono are often made within a certain size range, for women of average height in Japan which is somewhat on the short side. It is pretty rare to find one for taller people so Honey Lemon has never come across a kimono that she could wear because she is so tall.

After they start going out for a while, Hiro saves up a small fortune that may or may not have been won through bot-fighting some money to have a custom kimono made for Honey Lemon to wear during the Japanese festivals in San Fransokyo. There is of course lots of pink and flowers and the crown jewel is a special obi made with a hexagonal pattern to mimic some of the molecular diagrams that Honey works with often.

Honey cries, a lot.

The Eds Friendship Appreciation Month Begins Tomorrow!!

The Eds Friendship Appreciation Month begins tomorrow!

For the whole month we can appreciate the Eds friendship through posts such as analysis, drawings, fanfiction, moments we have enjoyed, head canons… Just about anything!

You can also ask me for requests, like questions or what I think about certain moments.

If you make a post please put in the hashtag, #Eds Friendship Appreciation Month.

Let’s make the July a month filled with the wonderful friendship of the Eds!

Please pass on the message!

Keep an eye on him…

I’ve been bad at keeping up with my daily drawings, but I had the weirdest urge to draw Gaster today so I went with it?

Only problem was, I couldn’t decide whether or not to draw him in his canon appearance, or the way I pictured him before the blobby skeleton thing was proven to be his canon appearance.

So I thought, “why not both?”

So this monstrosity of a gif is a result. Um. Enjoy?