and his bad pick up techniques

Frying Pans? Who knew, right?

Originally posted by runningracingdancingchasing

Originally posted by hunterchesters

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Warnings: nothing just cute

Word Count: 441

A/N: This is for @buckysmetallicstump Bailey’s Disney Quote Challenge (x) My quote was “Frying pans? Who knew, right?” by Flynn Rider in Tangled! I’ve been on a bit of a roll with the drabbles and things lately-not sure where the inspiration is coming from, but yay for ‘duty free lunch’ so I can get them done haha!


“Why does our daughter insist on watching ‘Tangled’ daily?” Sam complained to Y/N as he entered the kitchen to grab a water.

“It’s her favorite, I did that with my favorite movies as a kid. I tortured my parents with ‘The Little Mermaid’.”

“Daddy!!!” Y/D/N shrieked from the other room.

Sam sighed as he left Y/N giggling behind him. If it hadn’t been the third time that day, he would be more excited. It was pretty cute how into the movie she got. She’d even decided who would play each character. Sam, of course was Flynn Rider.

What truly annoyed Sam the most was how it was now so ingrained into his mind that it would bleed into their real life. For example, he couldn’t help but laugh when Y/N threw a look to himself or Dean.

Y/D/N had made the declaration. “Mommy is Pascal!”

“Why am I Pascal?!” Y/N asked brow furrowed.

“Because Mommy.” Y/D/N said with a little eye roll. “You make faces like he does to Daddy and Uncle Dean.”

“Oh great!” She muttered as the boys cackled.

Then there was the hunt last week. Sam had wound up cornered in the kitchen by the ghost they’d been hunting. Knocked backwards, his gun had slid out of his reach.  The ghost was on top of him when without thinking, he grabbed the cast iron skillet off of the stove top. As soon as the iron made contact it dissipated as Dean entered the room.

“What the hell was that?”

“Frying pans? Who knew, right?”

Dean’s arms fell to his side. “Really?! You’re quoting the movie now?”

Sam looked at the frying pan in his hand and gave a sigh before he cracked up. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

Dean just shook his head as he headed back out to the Impala. “Well as long as you don’t try ‘giving the smoulder’ as a new defense technique I guess it’s not so bad.”

“Yeah, I just wish she would move onto a new favorite already. This is killing me!”

“Well why don’t we stop on the way back to the bunker and see if we can find something new for her?”

Thus began her obsession with ‘The Little Mermaid’, much to Y/N’s delight and the boys horror. “You picked this because why Sam?” Dean grumbled from his seat on the couch.

“Y/N said it was her favorite growing up.” He shrugged.

“And it was a good choice too babe.” Y/N pecked her husband’s cheek as Y/D/N turned around to shush all three of them.


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anonymous asked:

Scenario explaning Revail's beef with Link... He was clipped by a shock arrow (fired by Link) while showing off aerial manuvers?

Revali’s grudge

Mipha sighed in frustration again, both Daruk and Urbosa wearing the same tired expression as her. Revali was glaring at Link as he trained in the courtyard in front of them, occasionaly muttering under his breath.

“Why do you hate Link so much!” Mipha finally snapped after hearing yet another muttered insult toward him. Revali’s head shot up and his glare was aimed at her instead.

“Yeah. The little guy’s never done anything to you.” Daruk chimed in, although he withered slightly under Revali’s glare. There was another sigh, this time from Urbosa. She glared right back at Revali, who couldn’t look her in the eye.

“Is there even a reason as to why you hate him so much? Or do you just hate the fact that he has a more important role in this whole thing? Because Link never chose to be the Goddess’s hero.” Urbosa spat out with thinly veiled anger. All of her fellow champions were left speechless by her outburst. Revali cleared his throat awkwardley.

“Well, uh, there is actually a, um, a reason as to why…” He trailed off whilst looking at the floor. Urbosa crossed her arms and stared pointedly at him.

“Oh, do tell. I would very much like to know why you seem to despise him so much.”

“I was out practicing new aerial fighting techniques and Link was practicing with soem sort of special bow nearby. He was using shock arrows and one of them hit me! There was no way that it was an accident! Even he isn’t that bad at shooting.” He said with an air of finality. He crossed his arms and smirked triumphantly at having made his point.

“What kind of bow was it?” Revali was taken aback by Daruk’s quiet question. He paused for a moment, trying to remember.

“I think it was a lynel bow. Something he’d picked up from defending the Princess whilst on their travels somewhere. I remember Princess Zelda telling me about the battle.” He answered hesitantly, growing more confident as he spoke. Urbosa couldn’t help but bark out a laugh.

“A lynel bow fires three arrows at a time Revali! No wonder he hit you if you were flying so close. It was a complete accident.” Revali didn’t look convinced and Mipha chimed in.

“He helped you after you got shot, did he not?” After recieving a nod, she continued, “That means he didn’t mean to do it. I doubt he would have helped you if he’d shot you on purpose.”

Revali tried to think of a counter arguement but came up with none. Perhaps he’d been wrong after all?

“Well, I still don’t like him, even if that was an accident! He’s always acting like he’s better than us and-” The three other champions shared a look of defeat and stood as one, leaving Revali to himself.

I Forgive You (Mino x Reader)

Requested by anon. This is my first Song Minho scenario so I am superd hyped for that. Enjoy!

Originally posted by kyuunqsoo

When you got in YG as a trainee you were a hopefull 18 year old, full of life and confidence. You were very sure about your success, thank god for your mom who taught you to always be strong and work for everything. For two entire years you practised until you bleed, you sang your heart out, you were always the fastest to catch up to a choreography, the first one to walk in the studio and the last one to leave. 

The coaches noticed that and they decided to give you a personal mentor, a person that would guide you and someone that had already got a taste in fame, you would be in safe hands. Well, that’s what you thoughtWhen you got informed that your mentor was the famous Mino you almost jumped through the roof, he was a star and he knew the whole thing like the back of his hand.

 You thought he was going to be nice, like an older brother of some sort, a person that would be with you and help you stand on your own two feet, Instead of him making you stand on your feet, he was pretty much kicking you down. He always had something negative to say, “you were off key”, “you missed a step, "you need to work on your pronuctuation”, , “the choreography is messed up”, “you’re not trying hard enough”, “you need to focus”. 

He knew he was crossing the line, but he honestly did not want to do this. Taking care of a trainee was not on his plans, you knew nothing about the struggles, he knew that ambitious smile and the eyes full of hope all too well, you would be crushed so he might as well do you a favour and do it now. 

He didn’t pay attention to you, until one time where he was about to leave and saw you dancing and singing again and again. He noticed how gracefully you moved your arms, how soft your voice could be but also how strong and booming you can make it, how you focused on the sweaty figure in the mirror, your eyebrows furrowing. He realised how much you wanted this, he also realised how beautiful you looked, your strong figure full of muscles, some people would say it was too much but you looked beautiful, every single muscle on your body was putting in the work, that showed determination. He liked that

——————————–

He started seeing the difference. You didn’t smile anymore when you walked in, you didn’t ask questions, you didn’t try to reason with him, you became a little robot that listened to his words and did whatever it was told. He broke you and he should be happy, that’s what he wanted to do, make you see that it’s not easy and the world doesn’t taste like peaches.

 If that was true then why did he feel so bad? He missed the annoying questions, that stupid bright smile, now you were just blank.“Alright, that’s as much as you can do.  I got to go, close the lights"He said and picked his back. he wasn’t going to leave, he just wanted to see what you were going to do. Like always, you turned the music up and went through the choreography again, but he saw something different. 

You were so passionate before, now you focused on technique -like he told you to- you could feel the emotions while you sang, now it was just melodic and on key -like he told you to-. You did everything exactly like he told you to, but he didn’t like it. You also didn’t like it either. You were used to putting countless hours in and spending your whole day here, but now it was tiring. You kept going until you missed a step and fell down, you threw away the mic making a loud crushing sound and covered your face with your hands. You didn’t want this, you were tired, you were not good enough for this. All those thoughts made your head spin, as the tears runned donw your cheeks getting mixed with sweat.

He thought you just got tired, but then he saw your body jolt in sobs. You were crying, he had never seen you cry before, he had never even seen you sad, hearing your sobs was painfull to him. He couldn’t believe in his eyes, the strong happy girl was crying. Something took over him and made him walk in"What are you doing?

"You just turned your back to him, you didn’t care anymore. You just wanted to dig a hole and cry, one of the reasons was him. He left his bag to the side and approached you, crouching down to your level and reaching out to touch your shoulder.

”(y/n) I asked you-“

"Leave me alone”

You managed to say. He was suprised by the amount of sassiness and the amount of pain he heard in your voice.

“Why are you crying?”

“Why do you care? You’ve made my life a living hell, all I wanted was to learn from you, I looked up at you. Now you made me like you, perfect at techinque but empty inside. Are you happy?”

“No”

“You know what? It doesn’t even matter. I thought you were a nice person, that you were willing to help me, but you becmae worst than any teacher. I hate you minho. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“No”

He replied honestly. He slowly wrapped his arms around you, bringing you closer to him, you were too tired to care so you just leaned in and cried on his chest, while he rubbed your back soothingly.

“I am sorry (y/n)”

“No, you were right. I am not meant for this life, look at me crying like a weak person”

“Don’t ever say that. You are one of the most passionate people I know, you are full of positivity, too much positivity that sometimes it even became annoying. I miss that annoying ambitious girl”

You let out a giggle at his words. He brought his hands to your cheeks and wiped away the tears slowly, althought they were replaced with new ones pretty quickly, so he wiped them away again.

“Little girl. Innocent little girl, why did you listen to me?”

He asked you. You looked at him confused, he just smiled and leaned in to give you a kiss on your sweaty forehead. It was the first time he showed affection to you.

“You were perfect, ready to take on the world. I just had to ruin it, I am sorry (y/n)”

He whispered against your skin. You pulled back and looked up at him, biting your lower lip.

“What are you talking about?”

“I was the stupid one. I thought that you were stupid for being so happy and hopefull, turns out I was the stupid one. I lost the spark you have, you still have that fire that every singer wants to have, the passion is pumping through your veins, your heart beats in the beat of your song. You are a singer, an idol, you are perfect”

He wanted to kiss you so bad. it was extremely hard for him to not do it, he couldn’t do that to you. You were just starting your career, he had already debuted. You were ready to go out there and make yourself known, he couldn’t hold you back. The public had already their eyes on him, if a scandal broke out it would crush both of you.

“Thank you Minho… I forgive you”

“I am supposed to say thank you. For reminding me what it’s like to be passionate and restless, you breathe and inhale music, don’t ever lose that. Promise me that”

“I promise”

“Good. Now wipe your tears and change your clothes and lets’ go, I’m buying you dinner”

anonymous asked:

can you do a retelling of the myth of persephone/proserpina/not persepolis/proroosoeprrpg? you could just call her persephone though w.e xx

Here is the myth of Not Persepolis. Those of you who want to skip a myth about the underworld getting a dandy makeover should press J on your keyboard now as this is quite a long post. I have no idea why you would want to skip such a bitchin’ story, though. 

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Salient historical / literary info is to be found under the Read More, as always. There is a trigger warning for discussion of rape in this Read More.

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Nice Guy Hades and Persephone Do Interior Design in Hell

.

A long time ago, in a quaint little town called Ancient Greece, there lived a goddess named Demeter, who is honestly only a supporting character in this whole saga, but is as good a place to start as any. Basically, Demeter is the goddess of the harvest, which sounds like the lamest thing ever to have on your CV, but when you think about it, it has some definite elements of radness. She’s not just your average Farmer Joe with two wives and a kid, she actually controls all the seasons and shit. All those times you’ve got your hair done and walked outside and immediately got pissed on by rain with the fury of a thousand marathon runners? Blame Demeter. Anyway, Demeter has a smokin’ hot daughter named Persephone, because Greek gods didn’t give two flying fucks about making names easy to type in a hurry, and Demeter and Persephone are totally cool with each other. Like, they’re basically Regina George and her mother in Mean Girls, but if Regina George’s father was also her uncle and her mother was also her aunt, because Greek gods also didn’t give two flying fucks about family trees that more closely resembled family circles.

Anyway, one day, Persephone is frolicking around in the lush green meadows of her earthy home, when suddenly this massive black chariot pulls up alongside her and this pale dude leans out of one of the windows and he’s wearing a fedora and sunglasses and a black tank top and he’s got this tattoo on his left bicep that says ‘DEATH: NOT BAD, JUST MISUNDERSTOOD’ and he looks at her over the top of his sunglasses and says “how you doin’” and Persephone shudders because the air has just got really cold and a bit deathy and also this guy is creepy and a bit deathy too, but he can’t take a hint at all and so he says “I’ve got a really great pick up technique that I learnt from this guy who’s currently banned in Australia, do you want to see it? I’m Hades, by the way, and I’m a nice guy really” and Persephone looks around nervously but she can’t see Demeter, who’s probably busy touching corn and shit, and so she just shrugs, and the guy leans out a bit further from his chariot and literally picks her up and throws her into the seat next to him and then the chariot sinks right down into the ground and suddenly they’re not in the lush green meadows any more, they’re in this horrible craggy wasteland that stinks of decomposition and armpits and there’s no natural light at all. Basically, they’re in a student bedroom. 

. Immediately, Persephone is like “you know what, that pick up line sucked, I am so not charmed by this” and Hades is like “welcome to Hades, bitch” and Persephone is like “did you really name this place after yourself” and Hades is like “who even knows, really, but it’s a fucking rad name, right?” and Persephone is like “are those fingers hanging from the wall?” and Hades is like “yeah, it’s my festive bunting” and Persephone nods slowly and says “and is that lampshade made from a severed head?” and Hades is like “two, actually, I got a dead maid to sew them together into a grotesque parody of that tragedy / comedy mask and I think it’s pretty bitchin’” and Persephone is like “well, that’s all well and good, but do you honestly expect me to live here? I mean, there’s literally a sofa made out of decomposing feet over there”  and Hades pouts and he’s like “that’s my rad make-out sofa, never used but often stroked, but I see your point, maybe this place just needs a woman’s touch” and then he winks and says “you know what else needs a woman’s touch? My dick” and Persephone wrinkles her cute button nose and says “this place doesn’t need a woman’s touch, it just needs some mood lighting and maybe a feature wall” and Hades says “you are honestly making it so hard for me to make dick jokes right now, but you make a valid and salient point, how about I hire you as my interior designer and also my wife?” and Persephone is like “I honestly don’t think I want either of those positions” and Hades shrugs and says “I could make such a good dick joke about that sentence, but I want you to know that I’m also a caring and sensual individual and not just a hilariously laddish cad, so I’ll let it slide this time, but also I’m really upset about it and so I think maybe you should just stay here for a bit and think about what you’ve done”  and Persephone is like “can you elaborate on ‘a bit’ because I have a lunch date at 7” and Hades is like “I’m torn between two hours or forever, which would you prefer? Ha, just kidding, it’s going to be forever, if I’m honest” and Persephone is like “do I get a say in this matter at all?” and Hades is like “obviously not, you’re a woman in Greek mythology and I just kidnapped you in my manly chariot” and Persephone sighs and says “fine, if I’m stuck here, then can you fetch me 6 tins of matte emulsion paint in Coral Canyon 7?” . A little while passes, and over time, Persephone starts to really spruce the place up. Nothing major, she doesn’t totally renovate the kitchen or do anything whacky like move the master bedroom into the lower torture chamber, but pretty soon the whole of Hades is full of the delicious smell of gently smouldering scented candles and there are throw cushions on the sofas of severed heads and the disembodied spirits of the recently departed have started to feel really at home here, and it’s all down to Persephone and her natural eye for feng shui.  .. Meanwhile, up in the lush green meadows of earthly frolicking, Demeter is freaking the fuck out. She’s just sort of wandering about the place and moaning desolately about her missing daughter and bodily autonomy and the best way to harvest crops when you’re so depressed that you can’t even see the point in living any more, and honestly, her bitchy attitude is starting to bring everyone the fuck down. All the harvests are shit, because Demeter’s too depressed to give half a damn, and the seasons become cold and empty, like that mini ice age in Frozen that lasted like 3 days but was still definitely eternal because it was caused by a depressed magic woman. . Eventually, Zeus gets fucking tired of this shit, because he has some hot chicks to lay and the eggs aren’t hatching in the snatch like they oughta because it’s so cold that he can barely get it up, and so he goes to visit Demeter and he’s all “yo sis, what the everlasting shit is going on, I’ve got this really smouldering chick in my bed and I can’t even ravish her any more” and Demeter is like “sorry bro, I guess I’m just really depressed because our brother has kidnapped our daughter and I think he might try and wife her and it’s just too much incest for me to deal with on any level” and Zeus just blinks and says “so you’re my sister and Persephone is your daughter but she’s also my daughter?” and Demeter nods and Zeus says “and Hades is our brother?” and Demeter just nods again and Zeus makes a mental note to invent the Jeremy Kyle show, and then he immediately has an idea.  “Why don’t you quit your womanly bitching and go down to Hades and get your daughter back?” he says, and Demeter is like “hold on, she’s your daughter too” and Zeus is like “yeah, yeah, I’ll cut you a cheque for the child support I missed, now get your peachy lil’ ass down to Hades and claw back our spawn, and I’ll go back to the woman in my bed who is definitely not my sister” and Demeter says “is Hera the hot woman in your bed?” and Zeus puffs out his chest proudly and says “the one and only” and Demeter says “she’s your sister too, bro” and Zeus deflates like a sabotaged condom and goes right into Hades himself. . When Zeus gets into Hades, he’s immediately struck by the recent appearance of a tasteful baroque fireplace that Persephone has erected in the main reception room. Hades serves him a dry martini from an authentic vintage brass platter, and Zeus is all “this place looks great, man, did you get on a Living TV show or something? What’s your secret?” and Hades is like “nothing like that, man, no TV deals, just the unwilling daughter of Demeter” and Zeus laughs nervously and sets his dry martini down on an understated but classic vintage chest of drawers with turquoise beading around the handles and says “yeah, about that unwilling daughter of Demeter thing, is there any way on Earth that you could maybe give her back?” and Hades is like “Hades no, this place has never looked so good, have you seen the bearskin rug in the fingernail room?” and Zeus just presses on, like “Demeter has turned the entire of the upper realm into something even worse than this place used to be, and I’m not sure if you’ve ever tried getting someone in the mood for doin’ the do when the ground is covered in ice, but it ain’t easy” and Hades is like “I don’t care if Demeter turns Earth into a grotesque parody of Manchester, you’re not getting Persephone back, she’s my favourite niece-wife”. . Zeus just sighs and says “Hades, there is only one way that you are ever going to keep Persephone here, and there’s no way you’re going to manage it” and Hades is like “what do I have to do?” and Zeus is like “I’m not telling you, it’ll only upset you” and Hades says “do I have to wade through the deepest oceans in the world with no scuba gear, because I will” and Zeus is like “no, it’s worse than that” and Hades says “do I have to defeat 7 deadly bears with nothing but my bare hands and a Barry Manilow CD, because I will” and Zeus is like “no, it’s worse than that” and Hades is like “do I have to lather myself in oil and wrestle naked with Hera, because it’ll be tough, but I will” and Zeus is like “no, but the only thing that will keep Persephone here - which we don’t want, Hades, so don’t fucking do it - is if she eats or drinks anything while she’s down here. Like, as long as she starves herself, I’ll be able to summon a totally pimpin’ army to come and rescue her, but if you feed her so much as a mouthful of milk? Done. I can’t do anything. So, you know. Don’t do that. That would be supremely uncool” and Hades throws his hands up innocently and says “I won’t feed her anything, I promise, now how about you go and summon that pimpin’ army of yours and I’ll go and help Persephone paint the en-suite flesh pantry? We’re going to be using Cappuccino 5.” . As soon as Zeus has left, Persephone comes around the corner and she asks Hades “who was that nice muscular chap?” and Hades is like “literally no-one, now come over here, you look really tasty and also hungry” and Persephone is like “well, I’ve been here for months and you haven’t so much as offered me a morsel to eat apart from your dick, so what gives now?” and Hades is like “my thin veneer of uncaring masculinity is crumbling around me and I’ve started to give a shit about your well-being, now do you want one of these delicious pomegranate seeds?” and he holds out his hand and offers her the aforementioned pomegranate seeds, and she blinks and says “that is literally all I want in the world” and she eats them and then suddenly Demeter appears and Hades is like “where is Zeus and his pimpin’ army?” and Demeter just roars “I am the army, bitch, now where’s my daughter” and Hades shoves Persephone at her and says “here is your daughter, or should I say, here’s my WIFE” and Demeter looks at Persephone, who has pomegranate juice smeared all over her face like a fucking child, and her heart just sinks because not only has she raised a slovenly child who can’t even eat fruit seeds without making more mess than a Tory document on foreign policy, but she realises that her daughter has eaten in Hades and can never leave, and that’s even worse, though not quite as bad as that time David Cameron made a speech about austerity at a five course meal while wearing a tuxedo.  . Immediately, Demeter calls for Zeus, who appears wrapped in a bed sheet, hair all sexily tussled from being interrupted mid coitus (because Zeus is always mid coitus, unless he’s immediately pre or post coitus) and Zeus looks at Persephone and just sighs heavily and says “Hades, I swear to myself” and Hades shrugs and says “don’t hate the player, hate the game” and Demeter is like “if we don’t sort this shit out soon, I am going to plunge the world into an eternal winter and rename myself Elsa” and Zeus is like “no, don’t do that, Demeter is a rad name and also winter totally kills my game and that’s all a pimp really has, can we maybe come to a compromise here so I can return to the wanton sister in my bed?” and Hades and Demeter just look at each other, one thread of sibling love joining them together for the barest of moments, and nod.  . So, Zeus is like “I can’t change the whole ‘don’t eat the seeds of Hades’ rule - ” and then Hades mutters a dick joke, and the thin thread of sibling love is snapped again - “but I can sort of bend it, like a boss who’s been caught groping his secretary and manages to get 6 months’ suspension and sexual harassment seminars rather than losing his job and his shares in the company. How about we say that Persephone does get to return to the surface, but only for 6 months of the year?” and Persephone pipes up like “what about the other 6 months?” and Zeus says “you stay down here for the other 6 months” and Persephone is like “awesome, I had really great ideas about installing a water feature in the lean-to of arid torture” and Hades and Demeter sort of mumble their agreements and Zeus dissipates in a fog of sex appeal, leaving Persephone and her husband-uncle and her mother-aunt to sort their shit out, which, to be fair, will definitely take more than 6 months.

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Drabble based on this which resulted in this and  this and well…

Warning: Slight mentions of a daddy kink (though it’s more of Vlad being an asshole and teasing Danny) 

Edit: you can now read it on AO3, FF.net, or under the cut


Every kid knew how embarrassing it was to accidentally call a teacher “mom” or “dad”.  It was like a given, at some point, you have or almost have, made that horrifying mistake. Usually in elementary or middle school, which let me tell you, is a whole hell of a lot better than in highschool. However, you don’t know how truly mortifying it is when it’s done outside of an innocent environment, where the teacher simply shrugs it off. It’s especially worse if the words are what the other actually wanted to hear, but… context is everything.

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On writing admissions essays

My brother’s applying to colleges right now, and I’ve been skyping him quite often to help go over his essays. Three years ago, I wrote essays for 20 schools. I learned quite a lot in the process, and I’m going to tell you about my favorite essay technique that I learned through much trial and error. I really wished that I had known it in the beginning - so here I will share it with you.

When answering a prompt, first pick the answer

This should be your real opinion or experience, because people write most powerfully about things they have personally gone through. Making stuff up is a bad idea. It’s important that this is a good answer. Examples:

  • My brother’s going into engineering. His “Why this University?” essay has to do with a campus building specifically meant engineering projects / startups / teams. 
  • When I applied there was a specific prompt about the world you come from, and how it has shaped you. I wrote about how I grew up in Chinese restaurants, and told a story about my dad.

Now, use that answer as a vehicle to say something specific about either you or the university.  

This will show that you are connecting concrete, tangible things to larger abstract ideas, like teamwork, community, diversity, friendship, improving the world - all the buzzwords. Of course, this means you have to really think through what your answer you picked above means. Examples:

  • For my brother’s essay, he said this building was a good place to gain hands-on experience and apply concepts learned in the classroom. This is all and good, but I suggested that he go further by using the building as a vehicle to say something about the school. For example, saying that the building is a reflection of the university’s commitment to students and their recognition of the importance of hands-on experience, that it reflected a culture of innovation among the student body.
  • For my essay, I told a story of how one day my dad was buying new industrial kitchen appliances for the restaurant. I asked why he had not chosen to buy the cheapest appliance, and he told me it was important to invest in good appliances, because they would be more reliable and last a longer time. I extended this to say that from this experience, I learned that investing in the future leads to better rewards. I then went on to say by applying to this university, I was investing in my own future through education, and that as a pre-med student, I would be investing in the lives of others. 

Taking very specific examples and then extracting more abstract ideas is a very effective way of showing that you are reflective and thoughtful - the kind of student universities want. It’s a persuasive way to convey the important abstract ideas, while grounded by a story or specific example. I was accepted to every university for which I used this technique on my essays, and won a scholarship contest at UCLA for full tuition.

There are of course other ways of writing essays. This is the one that worked the best for me. Happy essay writing! :)

i like to think that at some point ladybug gets a lil self concious because she cant really fight and she always has to depend on Chat Noir for that, which isnt bad, but she feels like she is falling behind him, and she wants to stay at his level.

and this leads me to: Adrien and Marinette fencing together. 

Imagine him trying to teach her footwork, and technique and he is always super encouraging, even though she really isnt picking up on it as fast as other students

and when she is proud of something, she will show Chat Noir. And he always chuckles at her, because she has her technique all wrong, so then he helps her and shows her a little bit

and during this, he is looking at the novice techniques of ladybug and marinette and realizing they are strikingly similar

existentiallyqueers-deactivated  asked:

imagine natasha and sharon having a "girl's night" at the shooting range

it was steve’s idea, and natasha is done saying that steve has terrible ideas. because, okay, some of his ideas are really bad, but this one is fantastic.

“you’re too tense,” natasha said to sharon, after several minutes of silence. “you’re too focused on the technique. when you’re in the field, you won’t have that much time to think about locking your elbow.”

“i used to shoot differently,” sharon admits. “but when i joined shield-,”

“they told you it was inefficient. they were wrong.” natasha picks up a gun, lifts it, and fires it. “you’re good at hitting the target, but only when you’re still and focused. in the field, you’re going to want to focus on civilians. if your body knows how to shoot naturally that is outside of standard technique, then go for it.”

sharon pauses for a moment, then disappears into a separate room.

natasha follows her and watches her swing her arm up to fire seven bullets into seven targets without hitting a single civilian target.

there is a long silence.

“i couldn’t do that after i joined shield.” sharon says, trning back to natasha.

natasha quirks an eyebrow.

“fuck boys,” sharon mutters.

“they have their uses, sometimes.” natasha tells her. “but most of the time they just have no idea.”

Someone Tells Him You're Hurt Or In Trouble: Teen Wolf Preferences

Derek:

“Derek!” Stiles flew in the room like the cops were after him. Hale turned around; unamused at how much the 147 pounder was flailing about. “What do you want, Stiles?” He crossed his arms over his chest—waiting for the younger boy to answer him. Stiles doubled over—fighting to catch his breath. “Would you get on with it?” Derek rolled his eyes. “I-We-She-Her-” “Yes, Stilinski, because I can so understand you when you stutter.” He said sarcastically; smirking and almost laughing at he pain Stiles appeared to be in.
When he finally caught his breath enough to where he was able to stand, Stiles quivered at the words that come out of his mouth. “When Scott and I were out looking for that thing you told us to look for, (y/n) decided to catch a ride in the jeep.” Derek looked unamused. “Without us knowing.” Still unamused. Stiles threw his hands up in the air and looked at the Wolf incredulously. “Dammit Derek, are you that stupid?!” He screamed aloud—ignoring the deadly glare that was shot his way. “You told her not to get in line of fire and she did! They’ve got her right no—” Derek had Stiles pushed up against the wall; holding tightly to him by his shirt. “Where are they?”

Scott:

Erica paced around Scott’s room, waiting for him to arrive. She picked up his books and then set them down—uninterested as he walked in and shut the door. He ended up setting his book bag down without noticing her, and walked over to his window—opening it and sticking one leg through. “Where do you think you’re going, Scott?” She asked as she looked down at her nails with a smirk—laughing internally when he fell back onto his floor, his foot still sticking uncomfortably out of the window.
“What are you doing here?!” He whisper-screamed—not wanting to announce to his mother that there was a she-wolf in his room. “I asked you first.” She said, looking at him flatteringly—like she wanted something. Scott sighed, rolling his eyes and looking up at her with a frown. “I was going to visit (y/n). I don’t know why it’s so important.” Erica giggled in amusement now, looking at Scott as if he had missed something. “What?” He asked—clearly lost. “Oh, nothing. It’s not important. I just can’t see how you could visit someone when they’re nowhere to be found.” She smirked at him devilishly; feeding him words that made his heart race. He suddenly became morose, and then angry—looking at her with a murderous expression. “Tell Derek to leave her out of this. She doesn’t need to be held accountable for my mistakes.” Erica laughed—studying her nails. “Well, I don’t know about you, but i’m going to be busy tonight. I won’t be able to get the message to him immediately.” She scrunched up her nose mockingly. But before she could say another word, Scott was out of the window—going to confront the Alpha himself.

Stiles:

“Stiles?” Sheriff Stilinski knocked on his son’s open door—dreading the news he was preparing to tell him. The young boy was sitting on his bed—his computer in his lap—when his father walked in; sorrow written in his features. “What’s up, dad?” He asked—not looking up from his screen as he answered. Mr. Stilinski only sighed, tucking his hands in his pockets and leaning against the door frame. “You might want to set your laptop down, son.” He spoke slowly—as if he was already breaking his child’s heart. Stiles looked up hesitantly—setting his device down on the bed slowly—a look of suspicion on his face. He followed his father’s every move with his eyes—stopping when he stood in front of him, their feet not 24 inches apart. The cop looked at his feet as he began to explain; not wanting to watch the pain and sadness grow on his face.
“There…. There was an attack late last night,” He glanced up at his son through his lashes—watching the interest become evident on his face. “At the lacrosse field—” “Wha-Who was there? Was it Scott, did Scott get hu—” “No, Stiles.” His father interrupted him softly; looking at him sadly. “It involved an animal—like the other attacks before, at the beginning of the school year.” He hesitated when Stiles’ face dropped—his eyes somewhat wide and his mouth ajar; his jaw touching the floor. “The doctors still aren’t sure what the attacker was…. But your friend (y/n) got hurt. She’s in the hospital under life-threatening conditions.” He felt like his heart would explode when Stiles started hyperventilating, looking anywhere but his father. “No one’s aloud to see her except her parents— Hey!” He had to grab his son when he bolted for the door; trying to head downstairs and run out the door no doubt. “Hey….” His father cooed sadly—hating to have to tell his son such things about a girl he knew he had been in-love with since they were only three feet tall. “It’ll be alright…. It’s okay….. It’ll be alright….” His heart was pained—he hadn’t seen his son so horrified or broken since his wife died. “She’ll live.” He tried to tell his son. But he couldn’t hear him over his own sobs of sorrow.


Jackson:

Now, Jackson Whittemore wasn’t one to show much emotion—attraction or interest or pain; he was too stubborn and proud to. It was an exception for Danny because he was his best friend since they were little, and somewhat when he was with Lydia; but now there was a drastic change. He didn’t expect any of this to happen—not so quickly, anyway. He was at home, watching lacrosse videos and working out his bad spots in his techniques when he got a text from Danny.

My-Man-Lani: ‘Did you hear from Lydia?’ Jackson picked up his phone and looked at it with heavy sarcasm.
‘Yeah, because I talk to my exes after my breakups, Danny.’ His text was lined with sarcasm as well. He could practically hear Danny roll his eyes as he responded. ‘Well she’s got some pretty bad news.’ Jackson walked over towards his mirror, not bothering to look at himself; just staring down suspiciously at his phone. ‘What do you mean?’ He replied slowly. For a strange reason—and he didn't know why—his heart sunk in his chest at the response. ‘(Y/n)’s been kidnapped. It was some random guy, I think he goes to our school. He was holding her and a bunch of other people up at the Precinct. I think she’s been shot.’ Jackson’s heart sped up. He felt like he could remember when he had been in a situation like this—but he was one of the attackers. It was vague, but he still had nightmares. `‘What do you mean, ‘you think?” His fingers flew across the keyboard; his eyes becoming strangely wet. He felt something slip down his face, but didn’t bother to reach up and see what it was. ‘She has a freaking bullet wound in her side, Jackson.’ He slid to the floor against his mirror—bringing his head to rest against it. How could this happen? He didn’t know what this was or why he felt it, but it definitely wasn’t there with Lydia. He didn’t respond—he only thought of the pain that he felt; and it probably felt as bad as hers.


Peter:

Whoever decided it would be a good idea to tell Peter Hale that you were in trouble was not the wisest owl in the tree. Scott ran up to him while he was discussing a certain Alpha pack with Derek in front of the old Hale house—the both of them wondering how they were going to deal with the new wolves. “Peter!” Scott yelped as he nearly bulldozed into the eldest Hale. “Go away Scott, I’m busy with adult matters.” He mocked as Scott struggled to catch his breath from running so far. “No, you need to listen to me!” He caught the wolf’s attention now; he turned slowly to look at the Beta, ‘excuse me?’ written on his face. Scott waver as he looked Peter straight into the eyes—assertion on his face. 

“(Y/n) wasn’t at her house when I went to see her. Her room looked like a tornado had come through—I think she’s in trouble.” Peter looked at Scott with rage in his eyes. “Scott, you had better be truthful with me. I don’t like liars—” “I AM being truthful with you!” Scott interrupted. Peter’s eyes flashed a bright red as Scott continued. “I think it was the Alphas. At school, the twins were watching her, like they were waiting for something. And they’d follow her in the halls.” Peter’s fangs grew and his claws extended—turning back to Derek as they did. “Whatever we’re gonna do about them, we need to do it now.” His voice had changed into a deeper, more gravelly tone—his wolf threatening to come out. He began to walk towards the trees—making his way through; his nephew and Scott in tow.

“What are you gonna do about it?” Derek asked as they both came up next to Peter—one on each side of him. He growled a bit, deep inside his throat as he planned out what was to happen. “I’m gonna find them, and I’m gonna kill them.”

Isaac:

Isaac kept getting strange looks all day—people would look at him in what seemed like pity, and he would look at them in confusion. ‘What’s going on?’ Erica and Boyd wouldn’t speak nor look at him, and Scott and Stiles would give him sympathetic glances from time to time. He walked around the school so confused and perplexed all day; ‘Why are they staring?’ He’d ask himself. And then he finally went to Chemistry class, sitting down and looking around suspiciously as everyone watched him sadly; not noticing another student walk in and sit at the desk right across from his. He only noticed when they cleared their throat—whipping his head back around to see one of the twins. One of the twins that had caused him to be in the hospital for forever, it seemed.
He smirked at Isaac, twisting a pencil around between his fingers as his brows furrowed in confusion. “Why are you the only one that’s looked at me differently all day?” He leaned over and whispered to him—watching as his eyes turned red and his fangs somewhat grew. Isaac looked around to find that no one else noticed this; they all had their heads down, looking at the assignment that was given. He turned back to see that the boy’s face had changed back to normal, but he was still smirking. “Maybe because I know.” He whispered back. Isaac’s brows furrowed—his eyes narrowing at the other wolf. “Maybe because I know why they’re staring.” He gestured to the rest of the students with his pencil—his face falling from the smirk and his eyes becoming hard and unkind. “Maybe because I know that she’s been missing.” Isaac’s face dropped; he was talking about (Y/N). The grin returned to the boy’s face; he leaned back in his seat and looked him up and down until their eyes met again. “Maybe because it’s amusing to know how much it’ll hurt when I tear your little girlfriend’s throat out with my bare hands.” He watched as he snapped the pencil in half with ease and Isaac’s eyes shot up to meet his; anger and aggression stitching it’s way onto his face. “You touch her, I’ll kill you.” The other wolf chuckled, leaning over within close range to let his eyes flash at Isaac again. “Not likely.”


Aiden (In the event that he lives):

It wasn’t your fault. You had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, indefinitely. Derek’s pack and Scott’s pack had found themselves together with the Alpha Pack; what had turned into a fight among themselves had escalated into a horror-fest. They had thought one pack sent out a signal, telling the others to come and fight. But in all reality, they got played. There was another creature out there, one called Kaos; something none of you were prepared for, even the Alphas. You watched helplessly as they tried to fight off the ancient entity, but one by one, all of them fell. You, Stiles, Lydia and Allison were all there; even Jackson was there, fighting off the beast, and you hated not being able to help. Finally you looked at all of your friends with an expression they knew all to well. Allison shook her head violently and Lydia started to cry. “Are you freaking INSANE?!” Stiles screamed. “I have to help them!” You yelled over the commotion. “The Alphas tried to kill nearly everyone, (Y/N)! And Scott and Isaac won’t want you to get hurt!” Allison yelled. You looked at her and shook your head. “If someone doesn’t help them, we’ll all die, Allison!” You looked over at Aiden as he fought; your heart breaking at what you were preparing to do. “I love you.” You whispered to yourself—meaning it for him as you watched his face get hit; black blood spewing from his mouth. You ignored the shouts of protest and ran through the line of fire as you saw Scott and an Alpha fall. Aiden watched as you ran from your haven behind a bleacher and towards the two wounded wolves, horror coming to his mind. “(Y/N)!” He screamed, catching his brother’s attention. They were both going to run to you, to protect you, but it was too late.
You were stupid. You weren’t paying attention. Kaos took your moment of heroism and turned it into a nightmare. It swooped down with its horrible wings and slashed your back open with the razors on the ends. You stopped dead in your tracks—falling to your knees and tumbling to the ground. All seemed to move in slow motion for you; and the twins.
“(Y/N)!” Aiden ran to you and slid to the ground on his knees—ignoring the pool of blood that had already started to form around you. Allison took out her bow and began to shoot at the thing, and she hit it in its wing and chest, causing it to screech out in pain and disappear into a mist of shadowy air. Ethan watched the creature leave without a trace before running over to his brother and best friend; his heart cracking into a million pieces at the pain he felt—the pain that was Aiden’s. He heard his brother’s cry, his scream of sadness and sorrow as he held the love of his life in his arms.
“God, (Y/N), you’re so stupid. You’re so stupid—Scott and Kali could have taken care of themselves!” He screamed at you. You smiled; he was only angry at you because he loved you. And the feeling was mutual. He picked you up gingerly and leaned you over his shoulder so he could inspect the open wound you had obtained. His tears doubled in number as he lifted your shirt a bit and saw your blood seeping freely; like a river. His tears acted the same. He dropped your shirt and laid you back comfortably in his arms, ignoring the consoling hand of his brother that came to rest on his shoulder.
“You should’ve just stayed out of the way.” His voice wavered on his lips as he stared at your peaceful face; you looked at him with the utmost respect and love anyone could ever show. “No,” He became angry—his lips trying to form a tight line, but all they did was quiver. “I should have took the hit. It should have been me.” He ignored the protest from his brother—that it wasn’t his fault. Everyone else began to crowd around a bit—all of them silent and sorrowful at the events that were unfolding. You shook your head, ignoring the pain that came with it. “No, Aiden.” You said with a broken voice as you reached up and wiped a few stray tears away from his cheeks, gasping softly in pain as you felt the wound open up wider at your movements. “Don’t move,” He said, holding your head softly on his forearm, “You’ll make it worse.” You only smiled and laughed a bit, wetting your lips as they became increasingly dry. “It already is worse.” You admitted. A new wave of fresh tears slipped from his lashes and he closed his eyes to try and fight them off.
He leaned down, resting his forehead on yours and listening to your shallow breaths; it was killing him inside. “I love you.” He said quietly; gingerly breathing in your scent. “I love you so much.” You giggled softly, feeling his breath intertwining with yours. “I love you too, Aiden. And I always will.” You pulled his head down a bit so that you could kiss him—and he accepted it. He kissed you so softly that you might’ve not even felt it, your body was so numb. But you still felt the sparks; the sparks you would feel when you first met. When he first laid eyes on you. When you first kissed. When you first danced. You still felt it. And nothing else mattered to him.
His heart felt void as he noticed your lips had become still and your breath had gone. His eyes felt drowned, as if he were sinking into a sea of pain and sadness. And he was. He softly called his brother’s name and he came when called. “Yeah?” He regarded Aiden carefully—not wanting to pain him further.
“Does it hurt you as much as it hurts me?” He let one last lone tear slip from his eye before he closed them; trying to remember the essence of what once was his.
“Yeah.”