in which i attempt a funny

Did another oops on my arm to complement Leia and the First Order symbol…. also to cover my first tattoo which was a dumbarse tea cup with ‘time for tea’ under it because I thought it was so damn funny and I got tired of explaining that it meant nothing except to make fun of the fact that I’m a horrible love child between the forbidden romance of an Irish woman and an English man.

Excuse the hella swole arm and my attempt at looking tan. No one tell Kylo Ren.

The event sounded absolutely INSANE

A whole bunch of amazing things happened

— A hilarious, explicit dramatic scene between Yuuri and Victor (that damned chihoko)
— An attempt to decipher a scene from the show read in Thai (Tosshi won the game and a gold medal with it)
— A live dubbing from Tosshi, Suwabe, and Ucchi
— A performance of agape (on an actual rink that appeared onstage!??)
— Waturu Hatano doing a LIVE PERFORMANCE of ‘You Only Live Once’
— Drunken Seung Gil kissing Nishigori
— And a ton more cute and funny moments from all of the seiyuus which you can buy on BD/DVD in July!!

But to my knowledge,, there was no season 2 announcement. I’m not like bitter or anything but just making sure I didn’t completely miss it. DAMN I wish I could’ve been there is seems like an A+ time

Out of Ten - Sherlock x Reader

This idea came to me late, late at night.

Originally posted by avengers-of-mirkwood

It had become a habit, somehow for you to rate things Sherlock said on a scale of 1-10 depending on how okay they were to say. Usually, he was stuck below six.

“Dear God, what is it like in your funny little brains? It must be so boring.”

“Three.” You stated, not looking up from your phone.

Sherlock sent you an apologetic shrug.

“For the sake of law and order I suggest you avoid all future attempts at a relationship.”

“Two!” You blurted, a little shocked yourself.

“You know, (Y/n), sometimes I do wonder how this funny little scale of yours works.”  Sherlock commented one day while he sat flipping through some papers.

“Oh?” You asked, focused more on John’s blog which you were scrolling through than the current conversation.

“Yes.” He threw the papers aside, his full attention now resting on you. “For example, some things get a look of shock from most people but you only give me a six.”

“Well, like what?”

“Well,” Sherlock stood up, “Say I said, ‘Oh this murder is impressive! Beautiful! Gorgeous!’ What would you rate that?”

You laughed, closing your laptop, “Five.”

Sherlock’s eyebrow twitched, a smirk appearing on his lips.

“You aren’t as boring as I first thought.” He said, giving you an expectant sideways look.


“I’ve even started to enjoy having you around.” Sherlock, strode towards you, slowly.

“Nine…” You said, a little bit confused.

“You might even say,” He said, standing over you, “That I’ve become attached to you.”

You didn’t say anything, just stared up at this strange, strange man.

“I’m going to need a rating.” Sherlock said with a smirk.



He leaned down, taking your face in his hands and pressed a kiss to your lips. It was fast and confusing, but it was heat and fire and electricity. It felt right, strangely, like there was no where else that conversation could have gone.

Sherlock pulled away from you, staring at you with his head tilted, pondering.

“Twelve.” You stated and a grin burst onto Sherlock’s features.

“Oh good, that’s reassuring.”

“Oh I bet.” So you leaned up and kissed him again, your smile melting into his.


You're a Lester, Danny

Summary: In which Dan attempts to piece himself into the seemingly complete puzzle that is the Lester family on the first night of the Orlando holiday.

Word Count: 889

Genre: Pure fluff

Warnings: none

A/N: I have no apologies for the title, it was too funny not to use. Also, I wrote this on a whim last night after being inspired by pseudophan’s mega feels-inducing headcanon. I hope you enjoy!!

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  • Looks like a comedy and is a comedy: As You Like It, A Midsummer Night's Dream, Twelfth Night
  • Looks like a comedy but is actually kind of a tragedy: Merchant of Venice, Taming of the Shrew, possibly Much Ado About Nothing
  • Looks like a tragedy and is a tragedy: Romeo and Juliet, King Lear, Coriolanus
  • Looks vaguely tragic but might be a comedy: Cymbeline, the puppet show version of Titus Andronicus
Limbo (Derek/Stiles)

frostniskare “I bet I can make you scream my name.” Sterek

This is your fic prize for winning second place in my birthday giveaway! I really hope you enjoy where the muse took the prompt, as I’m sure it’s not in the direction you had in mind. Hopefully, you’ll like it anyway! For those who read my “Just Like Me” series, this fic could be considered a prequel in that verse. However, you do not need to have read that series to enjoy this! Fic #42 in my 2017 Prompt Challenge

 Limbo. Derek/Stiles. Teen. Also on AO3.

Stiles and his team are on an undercover stakeout that’s not going too well. Derek’s using his powers for good, but Stiles knows it’s not the right moment for their relationship to change. 

“I bet I can make you scream my name.” The words are accompanied by the thick stench of whiskey and good old-fashioned bad breath.

“Yeah, see, I’m not really feeling it so I’m gonna have to decline that bet.” Stiles scans the club looking for the potential suspect, trying to ignore the old pervert attempting to pick him up. He’s not interested, and he made it clear, so the guy should leave soon.

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Me: [writes an essay about how the one (1) naked scene in wonder woman (2017, dir. patty jenkins) was shot deliberately with bad lighting and was more awkward and comedic than anything, and the camera work didn’t obnoxiously zoom in on any pecs, unlike other superhero movies’ attempts at progressiveness; wonder woman didn’t fall into the trap of objectifying its male character to prove that it’s being feminist, but rather showed through every other possible way that diana and steve were equals.]

Chris Pine: “yeah it was great I got to be objectified which is pretty novel”

Me: [guy throwing hands in the air and saying “I GUESS” dot jpeg]

Guilty Kiss

( The reader teases Peter a little too much, and things get out of hand. )

A/N: My love for Peter Parker ( and Tom Holland ) knows no bounds. And I’m still sobbing over Tom Holland. TBH if I had a boyfriend like Peter, I would tease him every moment I get. Except that I’m usually the flustered shy one. Requests are open, BTW, so send them in!  

Taglist: @mainspidey | @x-wing-starwriter | @tomsleftbrow | @tryn25 

“Where is my evac, Clint?” Your voice is tinged with irritation as you switch on your comm-link. Breathe, (Y/n). Don’t yell. “Clint? Please tell me that you aren’t sleeping on the job.”

Your heels click against the tiled floor of a long, narrow passage. You’ve disabled the two guards stationed at the entrance of the archives before they could raise the alarm but there’s no telling how long it would take before someone competent realizes what’s going on.

“I’m here, I’m here. Sheesh, can’t a guy step out to get a cup of coffee for one second –”

Somewhere in the distance, an alarm erupts, screeching through the airways. Dang it. The patrol must have found the bodies.

“Not when I’m in blind in a Hydra facility. So help me, Clint –”

“Alright, alright, no need to get huffy with me. Besides, Spidey’s got your back.”

A smile flits across your face at the mention of Peter. The awkward, adorable boy is easy to be with, and is even easier to love, and you like him. A lot. You’re sure that Clint can hear the smile in your voice when you say, “He’s securing the perimeter. So no.”

“I’m in Wing C. I think.” Ripping the emergency map off the wall, you consider the corridors and say, “Yeah, definitely Wing C. Files are with me.”

“Nice job, kid. Get to the roof, and I’ll pick the two of you up from there.”

The affectionate nickname sends a wave of warmth crashing over you, and your smile widens. “Sure. See you in ten.”

“Peter, you there?” Turning off your comm-link, you pull your phone out of your pocket, dialling his number by heart. You hope he’ll pick up. “It’s me.”

He does. Peter’s voice sounds as though he’s holding his phone at arm’s length. He’s put you on speaker too; you can hear muffled screams and thumps on Peter’s end, but none of them sound like him. In fact, it sounds as though he’s having fun.

“Spider 1 to Agent 1. Copy. Over.”

You make a mental note to never, ever let Peter watch anymore James Bond movies. His “spy lingo” is downright atrocious.

And for the millionth time since the two of you had started dating, you start to laugh. “You have seriously been watching too many spy movies. Is the perimeter secure?”

“Hey, you watched them all with me! Over.”

He’s avoiding the question, you realize, and your smile falters the tiniest bit. “Peter?”

“Um.” His voice is sheepish as it floats over the speakers. “Um, yeah, it’s secure. More or less. Over.”

“What’s less?” You ask, pinching the bridge of your nose and bracing for bad news.

“Less as in one of the guards may have called for backup before I could stop him. So prepare for incoming. Over.”

“Thanks, Spider 1,” You drawl out sarcastically, your voice rising above a symphony of rapidly approaching footsteps. As yet unnoticed, you duck behind a now abandoned security desk, keeping your voice hushed. “Now could you please get over to Wing C? Our ride’s waiting.”

“Copy that. Spider 1, out. Over.”

There’s a loud commotion. A group of men whisk past you. Six go down the hall you’d come from, and one mutters, “We aren’t paid enough for this.” Some enter the elevators. They’re all dressed haphazardly, as if they’ve been roused from sleep and had had to hurry. There must be a facility close by. Like army barracks, maybe. You’d have to be careful to avoid it.

You gaze longingly at the doors to the stairwell leading to the roof.

Two men stay behind and assume their positions, forcing you to inch your way around the desk to continue to hide your presence. You sit for a moment, trying to decide on your next move.

There’s only one thing to do, really.

Crawling to the end of the desk, you peek out around the edge, noting the exact positions of the guards. Yanking your ICER ( ‘Incapacitating Cartridge Emitting Raygun’ ) out of your thigh sheath, you cock your weapon and fire. Sticky pellets containing 50,000 volts find their way into bare skin. Their bodies perform involuntary twitching dances; they’re unconscious by the time they hit the ground.

Your heels click as you stride forwards, picking your way over motionless arms and legs. The door to the stairwell flies open, a black-clad figure appears in the doorway. Oh, well. Too late to hide now. Shrugging, you walk closer, but no one else comes to stop you. Fixing a pleasant smile onto cherry red lips, you ready your ICER.

“Hey, baby,” The mook leers, eyes lingering far too long on your chest and legs for your liking. “Did you come here to play?”

Gross. Your smile slips. You’ve just taken out two of his underlings, and that’s the best he can come up with? Forget the ICER; you’re going to enjoy beating this guy up. You aren’t going to give him the satisfaction of a response. Instead, you tuck your ICER back into your thigh sheath and shift into a defensive position.

“That’s funny, babe. Where did you learn that? On TV?”

Okay. One response. A stinging anticipation winds through you as you stalk forwards. “Why don’t you come over here and find out?”

When he makes his next move – a punch that practically oozes contempt and confidence – you’re ready. You duck, avoiding impact, and he swipes air. You deliver a vicious kick, buckling his knees. As he goes down with a yelp of pain, you elbow him in the back of the head. Yeah. Forget honour. You’ll go with dirty.

He attempts to rise. You waste no time in leaping onto him, planting yourself on his neck and pinning his shoulders to the floor. As far as most deaths go, this one isn’t all together unpleasant; at least this creep is being suffocated by the thighs of a girl, which is more than he deserves.

“My name is not babe. I’m (F/n) (L/n), and I am this close to crushing your misogynistic skull with my thighs.”

His face is turning a funny shade of puce. You let him suffer for a few more seconds before you pull out your ICER and stun him.

“Holy shit.”

Peter’s soft, awe-filled whisper catches you completely off guard. From your place atop of the Hydra mook, his face still crushed between your thighs, you offer Peter a wicked grin, which makes his heart stutter in his chest. He gulps audibly, a gesture which does not go unnoticed by you.

Relax, Peter,” You purr, looking up at him from under thickly dusted lashes. “How long have you been here?”

“Long enough to see you crush him with your thighs,” Peter manages, his gaze ping-ponging from the mook unconscious on the floor to your unconventional seat, your face radiant and flushed and pretty. “I don’t know why I rushed over.”

“Because you love me?” Batting your eyelashes, you smile a sweet, sweet smile, looking as though butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth. “And your life would have a noted lack of (Y/n) if I wasn’t around?”

Much to your surprise, Peter actually nods. You can’t see his face under his mask, but you know Peter’s smiling over the blush that paints his cheeks. Huffing out a laugh, you release the male from your clutches, straightening your skirt and thigh highs. Unlike Agent Romanoff, who prefers skin-tight spandex during combat, you’re particularly fond of skirts, which allow for ease of movement.

That, and it’s easier to take down people when they’re busy ogling your bare legs.

Peter’s trying not to stare. The operative word being ‘trying’. He’s manfully covered the eye-holes of his mask, but his fingers are splayed too widely for them to truly be effective at blocking your figure out.

You keep a neutral, pleasant smile on your lips as you stand, the one that Peter hates because he can’t tell what you’re hiding. An idea is forming in your head, the gears in your mind turning. You feel a bit mean for what you’re about to do, but the desire to see Peter squirm wins out.

Slowly, deliberately, you hitch your skirt up so that it settles high up on your hips, revealing the wide gap of skin between your stockings and your skirt. Your tongue darts out to swipe across glossy lips as you walk over to Peter, swaying your hips strictly more than necessary.

You’re rewarded with a strangled squeak. He’s given up his charade of “a little peeking”, and is unabashedly staring at every shimmy and shake of your hips. You’re sure Peter knows exactly what you’re playing at, but he doesn’t have it in him to tell you to stop, it seems.

Peter’s stammered protests are swallowed up when you push up his mask to press a kiss to his lips. It starts slow at first, but soon speeds up into something wild. His hands settle on your hips while yours try to tug his shirt off – only to remember that he’s in spandex, not cotton. You groan in frustration, Peter hastily untangles himself from you and hastily backs away.

(Y/n)!” Peter sounds scandalized as he tries to protest again, his voice dazed and accusatory all at the same time – although he doesn’t sound all that mad that you’d technically seduced him into an impromptu make-out session in a Hydra base. “We’re still – We can’t!”

“I know, I know,” You say on a laugh, giving him a last, quick peck on the mouth before Peter tugs his mask back into place, hiding cheeks tinted pink. “I’m sorry! I couldn’t resist.”

Dropping your voice into a conspiratorial whisper, “I’ll take care of your, ah, problem later at home, okay?”

You dance off down the hallway with a laugh, your skirt still hitched up high, swishing around your thighs as you go. Peter groans from behind you, and you wave cheerily at him over your shoulder.

You can’t wait to get back home.

Meeting Them is Tiring

Originally posted by relatabletheatreteen

Wrapping your scarf tighter around your neck, you hurried to catch up to your long-legged friend Angelica.

You slid and spun on the icy concrete. You cursed under your breath once you almost collided with Angelica’s back.

She turned to look back at you with a raised eyebrow.

“You know you can tell me to slow down right?”

You grabbed onto her coat and smiled at her sheepishly. “I know but-”

“-you don’t want to slow me down. Geez [F/Name]. Start speaking out for once.” She placed a hand on yours. “We are best friends. And I know your very outspoken dear.”

She started walking forward while you hung onto her arm.

You let out a breathy laugh. “Or I should come up to New York more often.”

“Yes! You really should,” Angelica laughed. “Or make permanent residence here. Maybe then you’ll know how to walk on our icy sidewalks.”

“Haha. Very funny. I know how. It’s just that yours are just too icy,” you defended.

Angelica rolled her eyes muttering a ‘yeah sure’ which led you to punch her. Well attempt to punch her and caused the two of you to fall in the middle of the street you were crossing.


“Fuck you, Burr,” Angelica growled.

The two of you just made it to King College’s square where a group of people - mostly men - stood.

An attractive African American male noticed you coming up. He was only able to raise a hand in greeting before Angelica interrupted him.

The hurt look on his face made you want to go and hug him but you didn’t want to invade his space. Hello brain? Still strangers. But it was still funny so you opted to giggle instead.

This caused the others to turn and you moved behind Angelica as most eyes fell on you. Another attractive dark skin male stepped forward. “Why are so mean to Aaron?” His eyes looked over your figure before redirecting his gaze to the eldest Schuyler sister.

And speaking of Schuyler…


You were thrown in a snow pile by Angelica’s other sisters Peggy and Eliza. The two rub their cold cheeks into yours lovingly.

“Oh, I love you guys too. But can we get out of the snow. It’s cold. IT’S COLD!” You pleaded as you waved your arms into the air.

They laughed, wrapping their legs around you. You let out a scream as they continued to laugh but this time manically.

“Sweet Jesus girls. Don’t hog her to yourselves,“ a male voice chided.

Peggy and Eliza squealed as they were pulled from your body. A pair of gloved hands were suddenly in your view and you happily grabbed them.

Once upright, you stared into deep chocolate eyes. And that was the only thing you could see.

You then realized how close you were to the person and stepped back to give room.

The male who stood not that taller than you kept a hold on your hands, leaning down to kiss the top of them.

“Aren’t you beautiful. My name is Alexander Hamilton,” he said as he raised up to stare into your eyes again. You could feel your face grow warm and opened your mouth to introduce yourself before he was pushed aside by a cute freckled face man.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Forget about that casanova. Name’s John Lauren sweetheart. And if you’re still cold,” he leaned down so his mouth was right on your ear, “I know just the thing to warm you up.”

You squeaked jumping back, knocking over Alexander who just gotten back up.

Angelica marched up to John once hearing your squeak and pulled his ear. He wailed loudly, pulling on her arm. “Are you making advances on her already?!”

She turned her head to Aaron and a tall, caramel skinned male who’s hair was in a large fluffy bun atop of his head. The two held on to Peggy and Eliza respectively. She started pulling John over to them and her sisters wriggled and snarled as he got closer muttering about “Touching their [F/Name].“ The men let the two go and they pounced on the poor man, rolling him into the snow.

Angelica turned back to you with a smile, ignoring the screams. Seeing the look on your face, she reassured you that this was normal.


Startled, you turned around and punched the man from before in the nose. He tipped backwards and Alexander, who started to make snow angels, let out a small yelp before he was crushed under the larger body.

You covered your mouth in shock before rushing to help the both of them up. Alexander groaned as he leaned into you before moving away to stand by Aaron. Hercules still held onto his nose. You thought he was angry but he had a large smile plastered on his face. “Damn girl. You have a killer punch.”

“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention a-and you scared me-”

He raised a hand up to stop you, still smiling. “Oh no. No need to apologize. But I definitely know now you’re Angelica’s best friend. Spicy. I like it,” he growled playfully.

Eliza and Peggy stopped rubbing snow into John’s hair, snapping their heads to Hercules. He backed up seeing their glares. John used this distraction to push the sisters away, running around the square with them right behind him.

Angelica rolled her eyes, grabbing your elbow and leading you to Aaron and floof ball. It’s not like you knew his name yet.

“And these two are Aaron Burr and Lafayette,” she gestured to each one in turn. “Lafayette here has a much longer name but we just shorten it to that.”

You smiled at the him. “Oh good. I thought I was going to have call you floof ball forever.” He looked at you confused and you motioned to his bun. He reached up, giving it a few squeezes and began to laugh.

“Oh.That makes sense. It’s very floofy, no?” He questioned with a deep French accent. He turned his head to the left and right, modeling his hair to you.

You giggled at this and you heard Lafayette laugh as well. Aaron narrowed his eyes. “Are we seeing a budding romance here?” You hid your face in your hands while Lafayette elbowed Aaron in his side.

“At least I have a shot. She barely glanced you way,” he retorted with a smile. Alexander and Hercules Oh'ed, Angelica busted out laughing, and Aaron feigned being hurt by his words. Aaron swiftly made his way to you, removing your hands from your face. He smiled down at you. “That’s not true of course. I’m sure you only were distracted because you were saving the best for last.”

“Actually…” you drawled, turning your head from him. Out the corner of your eye, you could see his face fall again. You let your act drop and hugged him tightly. He went rigid as you rubbed your face into his winter coat. “Don’t ever look that sad again!”

Aaron rubbed your back, chuckling. In the background, you could hear knuckles cracking and Alexander screaming “Oh Shit!”

You looked to see Angelica being held back, glowering at Aaron. He started singing ‘Why can’t we be friends?’ shakily backing up. Him backing up caused John, who just returned from running behind the building Eliza and Peggy chased him, to run into him, the two falling into a snowbank.

You hurried to move out the way as said sisters jumped onto the them.

You let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m tired and I didn’t even do anything.”

Lafayette placed a hand on your shoulder. “The easiest thing to do is blame Hamilton.” Alexander opened his mouth to protest but he was pulled forward by Angelica. Hercules grabbed into the back of Hamilton’s coat which slowed their motion.

You shook your head. “And to think I was actually considering to move here.”

Everything went still as you said this. Angelica looked at you, eyes sparkling. She escaped Alexander’s grasp and pulled you into a hug. Eliza and Peggy squealed, abandoning the snow covered, and most likely bruised men rushing to join the hug.

“I said I considered it. But meeting your friends was completely tiring,” you let out a small sigh.

Peggy giggled. “Oh I believe it’s too late now. Now that they met you, they’ll do anything to see you again.”

She pulled back to see your horrified face. Eliza pulled away next, smirking. “You might as well just stay since you’re here. You can stay in our house. You know our family loves you.”

You pulled on your knit cap. “You’re joking right?” Just meeting them wanted you to curl up and take a nap. But them to go out of their way to see you and to experience this again? Oh please no.

“I’ll give them your address, phone number, and that nickname you hate,” Angelica whispered into your ear. You evil bitch!

The guys moved into your sight, each looking at you with perfected puppy dog eyes they must have practiced many times before.

You groaned. Moving to New York wouldn’t be so bad after all. You’ll be close to your best friends, celebrities, and once accepted into a college, you’ll be closer to making it on Broadway.

“Fine.I’ll stay.”

Whoops and cheers were deafening and you covered your ears. Yet you smiled. These are going to be some exciting years ahead of you.


Lena finds out that Kara’s an alien (but not that she’s Supergirl) during one of their lunch meetings when a couple of pro-alien extremists show up to kill her to “keep her from following in her brother’s footsteps.” So Kara ends up in a fight with them and she accidentally lets it slip that she has super strength so she decided to go with it and out herself as an alien.

Which involves pinning the guys up against a wall and threatening them with some severe physical violence (which is funny to watch cause she’s still in her glasses and street clothes) and finishes her rant with “Ms. Luthor is under my protection and any attempts made on her life or company will be swiftly met and dealt with. Now, if you don’t want me to get you thrown into a cell for the rest of your lives I recommend you warn the rest of your little friends and then scram before I change my mind and have you locked up anyways.”

The One With The Dragon (Jeff Atkins x reader)

word count: ~3,410

Request: anon- this sounds weird but I love dragons and I love jeff so could you write something about jeff and dragons? love your writing btw :))

Warnings: mild bullying, badass reader, Jeff being perfect in every way, descriptions of art even though I know absolutely nothing about it, Bryce is in it really briefly, I think that’s it.

A/N. This fic has become notorious in my friend group as The Dragon Fic. My girlfriends are very invested in this one, and are really disappointed that Jeff doesn’t turn into a dragon at the end and fly away. I’m sorry to disappoint guys. Despite the lack of Dragon-Jeff, please try to enjoy :)

The landscape covering the canvas was impressive by anyone’s standards; a great, sweeping expanse of land, on which the bodies of fallen soldiers were scattered. Smoke curled from the dying fires, and the sun cast a hazy glow upon the scene. The colours shone with vivid brilliance, the image so clear, so real that the scent of smoke clung to it. Still, it was the centrepiece that dazzled the eye. A dragon, pure silver and shining, it’s long neck arched as it spread it’s mighty wings, roaring into the sky a jet of blue flames. 

The beast was massive, forty feet tall, its scales serrated and rippling. The colour grew softer as the eye moved towards the great snake’s belly. There the scales were rounded and almost soft. It’s wing span was almost double it’s height, and their great shadow almost covered the canvas. It’s teeth, long and black, shone like Onyx, and it’s one eye was gold, molten and burning. In the space where it’s other eye used to rest was a jagged scar leading to a gaping wound, blue light burning from deep within the socket. It was a masterpiece.

Of course no one at Liberty High appreciated it. It hung in the art room, the work of nine months and too many hours, and all (y/n) got as recognition of it’s creation was ridicule.

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red vs. blue in The Lying Detective

(AKA: A Study in Scarlet)

While watching TLD, I found that I kept noticing little flashes of red, almost continuously. It wasn’t as in-your-face as the blue of TST, but it was still pretty prominent, kind of like how pink/purple is used a lot in ASIP. So I decided to go through and count how many times red pops up. (The answer: a lot.)

Keep reading


request: “Hello could you maybe do 5 with Fred weasley please and thank you” — by anon

a/n: the more i’m making imagines about fred, the more i find myself falling harder for him oh my god (but tbh, i like george more hehe)

5. “Why the hell are you blue?”

Masterlist + Request here!

    As you watched Fred use the rolling brush to paint on the white wall, you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing because of his obvious annoyance about the way the two of you weren’t allowed to use magic in summer — since it was stated in the law that wizards below seventeen weren’t allowed to use magic outside of school.

    “Bloody hell, Y/N, if I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t be tolerating this.” said Fred upon hearing your laughter inside the big room.

    You got up from your current position, which was just below the ladder he was on, where you were doing your own painting.

    “I know, Freddie.” you grinned. “Thank you again. You didn’t have to do this but you did.”

    He looked at you, “It’s the least I could do for your parents who welcomed me so warmly. Also, I may or may not be doing this to get on their good side.” he winked before working on his part of the wall again.

     You snorted and continued to paint.

     It was the summer before your seventh year with Fred and he gladly volunteered to help when you wrote to him saying that you were about to paint a whole room by yourself as part of your household chores. Of course, your muggle family was delighted to have him over as well, the ginger haired Weasley honestly already on their good side because of his kind and funny nature.

    Just as you were about to glide the brush on the clean wall, multiple of blue paint suddenly dropped on your hair, and in the next second, it seemed like half of the can of paint fell down on you.

    “Fred …” you spoke in between deep breaths.

    “Oh, crap, Y/N, I swear that was an accident.” he rushed down, holding the can and placing it on the ground.

    When you looked at him, you could see that he was trying hard to suppress a laugh.

     You slowly chuckle, “Oh, you think this is funny, huh?” you exclaimed, stepping closer only for him to step back when you did so.

     Fred raised his eyebrows. “Love, don’t do it.”

    “Don’t do what?” you asked innocently, a hand now on your hair as you attempt to get some paint on your fingertips.

    With a playful smirk, you practically tackled him unguarded which resulted into the two of you landing on the floor. Fred groaned as he was the one under and therefore was the one who felt the impact, his hands secured on your waist while you took the chance to get some paint on his face.

     Fred laughed, “Y/N, stop!” he shouted quite loudly, his grip now on your wrists to stop you from making more damage. “Damn, woman. When the Sorting Hat placed you in Gryffindor, it didn’t say to live up to its symbol and pounce like a lion.” he chuckled.

     You sat up, still strangling his hips. “It’s your fault. You’re the one who poured this filthy paint on me.” you sighed, thankful that the paint used could be removed by water.

      “I told you, I didn’t mean it.” he sent you a goofy smile. “Though, I’m glad it happened. I mean, look at out position right now.” Fred wiggled his eyebrows.

     "Very cheeky, Weasley.“ you moved away from your position to instead sit beside him where he was still laying down with his face covered in paint.

    You reached out to him again and drew a mustache above his lip, laughing.

    Fred rolled his eyes, sitting up as well. "Enjoying yourself, are you?”

    “I always enjoy myself when I’m with you.” you said, winking at him.

    He snorted before leaning down to kiss your lips sweetly. “Can’t deny I feel the same way. You know how much I love you, right?”

    “No, not really.”

    Fred quirked an eyebrow, “Is that an excuse to make me kiss you again?” but he was already starting to lean in like seconds ago.

     You shrugged. “Maybe.”

     "Hmm,“ he was staring at your mouth,"it’s kinda working.”

     You pressed your lips onto his and he hastily kissed back, a hand automatically making its way to your waist to pull you closer. You chuckled at his sudden eagerness, now running your fingers through his red hair which was now tinted with blue.

      Kissing Fred always seemed to put you into another world. At that moment, everything around you was slowly fading away and the only thing that you were concentrating on was his lips and his hands. He practically drove you crazy, and he knew that he did.

      He smirked, pulling away. “Someone’s coming.”

     Indeed there was, and when you looked behind, your mom suddenly entered the room, her eyes widening at the sight of the two of you.

     "Why the hell are you blue?“ she demanded.

     Sharing a knowing glance with Fred, the both of you burst out laughing, unaware of your mom’s expression that had confusion written all over it; but it wasn’t long before she too smiled, realizing that what you had with Fred wasn’t just some fling — it was for a lifetime.

llmagicka-foxll  asked:

Hiya~I just was scrolling through your account, your head canons and scenerios are really funny and well written⭐keep it up~ Could you do a scenerio where the MC and the boys(and Jaehee) end up accedetally having a really awkward kiss. Thx!

Fun fact, the Seven one is based off a true story from about last year with me and my now ex girlfriend. Yes, I was the one who did it to her. And it was awful, but funny after a while. Thank you for the request ~~~~ Jumin:
•Honestly, you didn’t know what you were expecting..but it wasn’t..That.
•It’s not that he was a bad kisser, but the way he went about it was just unlike him.
• You two were dating, of course, and around your 3rd date, this cat mom decides it was time to “make a move.”
• You had no idea he was even at the restaurant yet. He thought it would be cute to surprise you, so he kept it this way.
• While you sit on your phone, unaware of the business man’s presence, he quickly wraps his arms around the side of your waist, and kisses the corner of your lips.
• yOu litTerally pUnCh Him?!?
•But only because you had no idea it was him!! So, he easily can forgive you.
•Won’t admit/show it, but he’s pretty embarrassed.
•Lil shit thinks he’s a smooth fukr.
• He goes up to ask you on a date, when all of a sudden he trips. He fricken trips. Yes, beautiful gods trip to, I guess.
• he ends up falling on top of you. And since you weigh a good amount less than’re on the ground.
• His body is squishing your chest, his hair is tickling your skin..and his lips are on your lips.
• “I’M SO SORRY (Y/N)!!”
•yeah you best be sorry motherfu-
• “’s okay, Zen,” *I kind oF LiKEd iT BUT yOU wOnT knOw…
• He’ll just ask you on that date tomorrow.
•Precious baby fell for another one of seven’s pranks. Jfc.
• “There’s a curse castes upon you Yoosung! If you don’t kiss (Y/N), I’m afraid the two of you will..well, you won’t be around much longer.”
• “I need you to come over, (Y/N) T_T”
• This text was mildly terrifying.
• You get up to his front porch, and knock on the door.
• A red faced yoosung awkwardly greets you. He opens up the door and..
• WhAt YoOSUNG whAt
• That’s it. He does it, and slams the door in your face.
• And seven saw the whole thing.
• It all started when you stole one of his chips.
• He began to tickle you, making you get all red, and crying with laughter.
• yeh no
• You look so cute though?
• He can’t help but start to lean down into a kiss..
• forgetting that he’s actually still tickling you.
• you’re laughing so hard, and he finally..presses his lips on yours..
• and that’s when you snort.
• In his mouth.
• Eventually you shake it off, and sometimes when you two kiss, you fake a little snort to tease him. It becomes an inside joke, really.
• Bless her soUL
• She was working so hard for that gay ass trustfund boi, and you had enough.
• You were going to distract her.
• You had many attempts. Most of which that failed. Such as, throwing wadded up balls of paper at her back.
• You even turned on a zen dvd. nothING.
• “Jaehee~ I’m going to skype Zen~ because he will pay attention to meeee. Unlike soME PEOPLE.”
• “that’s nice pumpkin.”
• ok if that’s how we’re gonna play it. No choice then..I guess you’ll just have to make this your first kiss. That will HAVE to get her attention.
• You slowly walk up behind her, heart racing.
• You put your hand on her desk, and slam your lips on hers.
• Sadly, you didn’t notice the cup of coffee sitting on the edge of her desk..
• It spills on your pants, making it look like you pissed yourself or something.
• “I should have just spilt coffee on my crotch hours ago.”
• “Awh, (Y/N), pumpkin come here. I can take a break for a few I suppose..”
I have no idea’s for V and Saeran right now. It’s late as hellll though. I haven’t written a Headcanon in about a month, and I’m just getting in the swing of it again. I’ve missed you all. I will try and update with v and saebae soonn!

Male “humour” isn’t about being funny nearly so much as it is about being male.

Male speech is typically understood to be about establishing dominance: report, versus rapport, which is female speech. It’s about clarifying the masculinity of one’s mindset, especially in comparison to others, which creates a constant low level of hostility in male interactions - everything is a competition, nobody can back down.

What is antithetical to being able to participate in, let alone succeed in that environment, is the (visible) capacity for empathy or even personal emotional reaction to anything at all. Those traits have been firmly established as feminine-coded, and therefore the presence of those in male speech is shameful.

To demonstrate one’s lack of emotion, one has to provide opportunities. Male “intellectualism” in general is an example of this, but male-generated humour is another. One can create a joke (more often these days in the form of memes, which is what I was looking at when I thought of this, but it occurs in the majority of attempts men make at being funny), or react to it (necessarily in public), and given its function as an establishment of dominance this automatically creates a constant competition to goad others into breaking first.

It isn’t particularly subtle. Most male memes by this point are open references to an offensive situation, and just formatted into a ‘comic format’. For example, I just saw one that was a screenshot of a scared Spongebob Squarepants, clumsily coloured dark brown, and captioned with a comment about escaped slaves fearing being brutally raped by their former owners if they were caught (I’m not going to share it and I hope you understand why). Posting this on social media is a claim on the part of the man who makes it that this is (yet another) topic he can consider while completely emotionless (masculine). Other men one-up this by commenting with how humorous they find it (but they have to balance demonstrating not being offended and not looking too enthusiastic about finding it funny, or they would be openly supporting another man, which is not the point) and further disseminating it and challenging others to demonstrate their masculinity.

Particularly with the current climate of internet humour, I think men have become overenthusiastic about this and compulsively attach themselves to anything offensive as an attempt to show their masculine objectivity (I don’t use this to excuse male support of institutional violence; the whole point is that they understand the wrongness of what they’re seeing and see the chance to posture as more important than resisting). For example, men latched onto Frankie Boyle more and more as he drifted more and more from risquè stand-up to just being verbally abusive in public, because the worse he behaved, the more opportunities he provided for other men to show their maleness.

This platform is especially useful for men who can’t measure up physically. The worst, nastiest humour tends to come from places like 4chan and reddit; men who claim pride in their deviance from the masculine physical ideal, but in actuality replace that with obsessive demonstration of how masculine their minds are.

There are other ways in which this is used, just as if not more insidiously. I think it is used consciously to attack anti-prejudice sentiment. Women who support social justice are invalidated by men on the basis of being emotional and therefore incapable of objectivity, and trapping any men who might have a cause to support us into having to demonstrate how they’re not us stops them from participating, and to force men of marginalised groups to put up with abuse.

To be more specific: white straight gender-conforming males have a “natural advantage” in this field because, society being what it is, they really aren’t affected by misogyny, racism, homophobia or anything else. They can use that position to come out with serious bigotry, which they do very easily, and they know that men of the relevant marginalised group will be socially compelled to pretend to like it. They can even push men to attack their own social groups in order to demonstrate their maleness. Keep them regarding their masculinity as more important than anything else and they will attack their own family, and men very often do regard it as more important.

Obviously, in addition to everything else men must find funny, they have to laugh at the abuse of women. Finding women’s language funny shows you don’t associate with women enough to appreciate what we have to say. Finding women’s interests funny shows you cannot relate to femininity. Finding rape funny shows you cannot relate to the pain and degradation that is socially understood to be What Men Do To Women.

This isn’t some attempt to absolve men of their responsibility, because they usually know very well what they’re doing and how the system works, and they value their social status more than the temporary discomfort of resisting and fixing the system. It’s just a thought I had.


Sorry, everyone – not much funny today, just a semi-serious comic of me attempting to convert you into an irresponsible consumer. I hope you will forgive me this transgression. 

Here’s an example of some of the rewards I am offering:

  • Text chat access to my community Discord server, which some of my webcomic friends and I hang out in most of the day trying to think of snarky things to say to each other
  • Access to an exclusive feed where you will see sketches, notes, rejected comics – basically everything that happens behind-the-scenes
  • Read all Cheer Up, Emo Kid comics one day early on the Patreon feed

I’m pushing the Discord pretty hard because I’ve been having a lot of fun with it. Here’s a snippet of some of the riveting conversation we’ve had in the past.

Our little community is growing and I would love for you to be a part of it. I hope you consider it. Thank you for reading! 


To celebrate the beginning of Pride Month, I want to talk about one of the things that I love and that’s BOOKS. And not just books, but books that feature LGBTQIA+ characters and story lines. 

You have no idea how excited I get when I find out a book includes a queer character. (Especially when it is done in a new and exciting way without stereotyping)

This post will feature some of my favorite queer books that I have read. I will include a brief description of why it is on this list and I will also link it to a Goodreads page where you can read all about it. 

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe by Benjamin Alire Sáenz - First of all, it is beautiful. It’s about two boys, who are best friends that fall in love. You get to follow Dante as he explores and dicovers his sexuality, Ari as he defends Dante and pretends he’s not totally in love. They both have amazing accepting parents. Did I also mention, they are Mexican. What more could you want?!?!

Carry On by Rainbow Rowell - A fantacy spin-off baced on a fanfiction from Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell. Baz is a hella gay magic vampire who just wants to get good grades, make his family happy and kiss Simon before they have to kill each other. Simon Snow is the oblivious chosen one who is convinced that Baz is up to something and just wants to live up to everyones expectaion of him. Correct me if I am wrong but I’m pretty sure he is BI. Adorable, must read!

Fan Art by Sarah Tregay - Jamie is in love with his best friend Mason. All the fangirls in art class ship it. After being tasked with publishing a cute queer comic in the schools magasine, things get out of hand for Jamie as he tries to keep his sexuality and crush a secret. Another lighthearted cute story about crushes and missing some obvious signs. 

How They Met by David Levithan - A collection of stories about love. Including a lot of same sex relationships. Both cute and angsty stories, a good variety and very well written with a great story behind how the collection came to be. 

Grasshopper Jungle by Andrew Smith - Follows a possiably bisexual character as he sorts through his feelings regarding both his girlfriend, and his best friend Robby. At the same time, the world is coming to the end at the hands of some very large praying mantises. Unbelievably unique and disturbing in the BEST way.

Cherry by Lindsey Rosin - A completely honest account of losing your virginity, exploring sex and realtionships and sustaining friendship throughout your teens. Follows 4 girls, one of which discovers her sexuality while attempting to complete a “sex pact” set by one of the other girls. Real, funny, intelegent. highly recomend. 

I intend to add to this list as the month goes on (I have a pretty good book collection). Feel free to add more of your own and also I would appreciate any recommendations of books to read <3

  • What she says: I'm fine.
  • What she means: Hello and welcome to Griffin's amiibo Corner, I'm Griffin and this is the VR Zone, a beautiful virtual world that has proven to be an inescapable tormentor for this amiibo reviewer. It has been 3 weeks since my body and mind were surrendered to the harsh whims of the VR Zone, and I am beginning to worry that I may never see the light of the flesh world sun ever again. My connection to the outside world has been severed, leaving me stranded, adrift in a virtual sea that was designed for in-depth amiibo reviews but not for human survival. As such I have had to salvage the natural resources of this world to satisfy my life requirements, such as this lean-to shelter, which is surprisingly spacious and maybe even a little bit comfortable. This humble hut is home to me, and my only companion in this world; the Toad amiibo, whose paint lines were compromised in an attack on our hut by a swarm of Harvesters, a virtual menace that covets and seeks out foreign matter originating from the flesh world. Though my form is completely virtual I still desire sustenance. Obtaining food has led me to commit unforgivable acts of violence against the wildlife in the VR Zone, but such is the order of things, following a belief system that natives to the VR Zone call "The Great Wheel." My only other company in the VR Zone is the Dark Orb, which silently watches my endeavor to stay alive in this cruel environment. To touch the Dark Orb is to become one with the VR Zone and find peace in its endless quiet expanse, but to do so would betray my oneness and my human agency. Every day I greet the Orb like an old friend and consider its eternal offer. Every day I have refused, but I do not know how long my willpower can hold out, may The Great Wheel sustain me. This morning the Toad amiibo further gave of his body to aid in my survival. He forfeited his near-field communication chip embedded deep inside of his base, to help me attempt to establish a connection with my home terminal using this virtual machine, which is mostly comprised of wood, flesh, and teeth. In defiance of the Dark Orb's will, I will now attempt my escape, using this, my first and final lifeline. It seems to have worked! I can feel my home terminal's emergency protocols activating- wait, oh my god. Oh my god Toad, no. No please wait! Please god! Stop! Toad please! Come to me Toad! Please Toad no...

I found this prompt as a picture of a tumblr post on pintrest, so I can’t link back to it. Just know that this scenario doesn’t belong to me.

           Stephanie had told Tim exactly two weeks ago that Jason was going to ask him to prom. She wouldn’t reveal where the information had come from, just that her sources were reliable. At the time, Tim hadn’t questioned it.

           But apparently, Stephanie was also a lying liar who lies, so it was really Tim’s fault for trusting her in the end.

           The past two weeks had been so fucking stressful for Tim that he’d almost had a mental breakdown three separate times in the boy’s bathroom. Three. Not only were all of his AP tests coming up, but the boy he’d had a crush on since elementary school was apparently asking him to prom. What was he supposed to say in return? Well, “yes” obviously, but just saying it like that was lame. He needed to be cool. He needed to be suave. He needed to make Jason swoon into his arms instead of immediately regretting his decision because his supposed date had swallowed his own tongue and couldn’t respond. These sort of things needed to be planned out. He needed to do research.

           The problem was that Tim had no idea when Jason would ask him. What with all the studying he had to do he couldn’t afford to cram all the research into one day, it had to be spaced out. But what if Jason asked before Tim was ready? The thought had him nearly dissolving into a panic attack every time they saw each other, which was usually multiple times a day, and Tim just couldn’t live like this. Not to mention if he kept getting all shifty and jumpy around Jason the boy would probably write him off as a freak and move on. Tim hasn’t been going to all of Jason’s poetry readings for the past three years just to fuck this up now.

           At the two week mark he decided fuck it, he can’t go on like this. It felt like he’d gotten three hours of sleep in the past four days (which was probably accurate) and he’d had three stress nose bleeds that day alone. It was time to tell Stephanie that she could go fuck herself for her little prank and move on with his life.

           Of course, that was the night Jason called him.

           “Hello?” Tim answered, his voice not wavering for once because he was so fucking tired.

           “Hey, what color should I wear to prom?” Jason asked on the other end of the line, like it was normal for him to call up Tim for fashion advice or something.

           “Um, I don’t know,” Tim said. “What color do you want to wear?”

           “Well, my red tie is my favorite,” Jason responded, “but I don’t mind buying a new one if I have to. Have you picked your color out yet?”

           “Um, no…Why?”

           “’Cause we have to match, duh.”

           Tim let the silence stretch out over the line for a moment before asking, “Jay, what the fuck are you talking about?”

           For a few moments there was no response, and Tim could almost feel the dawning horror over the line. Finally, Tim heard faintly through the speaker, “shit, I forgot to ask you.”

           Tim literally fell over on his bed laughing. Oh my god, he was going to piss himself. He couldn’t fucking breathe. All of this stress only to find out that Jason had been as much of a helpless dork as he had been.

           “It’s not funny,” Jason protested. “Stop laughing at me, it was an honest mistake. Are you going to prom with me or not, dickhead?”

           Tim waited until he could draw enough breath to properly speak before attempting to answer. “Yea, yea I’ll go with you. And I like my red tie best too.”

           “Oh thank god.” He heard Jason whisper, though to which answer Jason was relieved over Tim didn’t know, nor did he really care.

I normally don’t have Tim curse this much in my fics, but apparently I thought it was pretty funny last night, so it’s staying.