since george on dead like me

For the past year there’s been more and more people talking about Marcia Lucas and how important she was to Star Wars and how it’s because of her the series is what it is but

It also makes me sad because we talk about her like she’s dead but she’s still alive

After the divorce George didn’t just take Star Wars from her he took EVERYTHING from her

She won an Oscar for Best Editing for Star Wars and she hasn’t worked since the divorce.

He blacklisted her.

People she thought were her friends stopped talking to her

She dropped off the face of the planet.

Literally I wrote a little essay on her a few months ago and the only recent news about her was that there was a house in Southern California up for sale under her name

And I just think about how fucking unfair it is that this woman who made Star Wars no longer gets to be involved and the redemption arc for the new trilogy that I REALLY want is Marcia Lucas coming back to edit again.

So there was this big tray of jars which had preserved animals floating in liquid inside in Biology, which were going to get thrown out. You know, dead crabs and possum fetuses and cut open frogs and stuff. I noticed one specimen that didn’t have any liquid in its jar, a sea horse.
I asked my biology teacher if I could keep the preserved seahorse (pictured above) and he was like “Sure,” just looking really tired and obviously not caring if some nerd wanted preserved marine life. I called him George.
Timeskip to a few months forward, I now have a different biology teacher and I asked him the other day about the liquid we preserve stuff in. He informed me it was poisonous.
My mind raced back to the sea horse on my drawers at home. The liquid has obviously evaporated since its preservation.
“What about in gaseous form?” I ask tentatively. He looks me dead in the eye.
“It would kill you, that’s why we got rid of them. They’re not legal for us to keep anymore.”
So today I say goodbye to my mummified fugative fish. I’ll never forget you, George.

Mistletoe ~ George Weasley imagine

“Oh my god! That’s you?” You laughed, pointing at the picture.

“I remember that. My birthdays were always messy.” He chuckled.

You, Harry, and your sister, Hermione, were all invited to spend the Christmas break at the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley had pulled out a family photo album and you were looking at the twins’ baby pictures.

“You were so cute, George! What the bloody hell happened?” You teased.

“Oh, shut it!” He laughed, pushing your arm.

You and George were not subtle with your flirting. But even though you two weren’t subtle, you were both completely oblivious to it.

George was a year older than you and has had a crush on you since he saw you at the hat sorting ceremony. Even though you were sorted into Hufflepuff, you two had a few classes together, and he made sure to talk to you whenever he could.

And now, he was your closest friend. But you wanted to be more, because you also had a crush on him.

Hermione looked over at you and saw how happy you looked with George. Suddenly, an idea popped in her head,

“Fred? Can I speak to you for a moment?” Hermione whispered, motioning Fred to the other side of the room where you wouldn’t be able to hear their conversation.

“What’s up, Granger?” Fred asked once they were out of hearing distance.

“Look at them.” She said, motioning over at you and George. You were laughing at another one of his pictures, and he was just looking at you with the biggest smile on his face.

“Do you see the way he looks at her? He obviously loves her-”

“He does. I know my brother. And your sister obviously likes him too.”

“So, what are we gonna do? (Y/N) is too shy to confess.”

Fred looked back over at you two and grinned. “They just need a little help is all.”


“George! (Y/N)! Come look at this!” Fred called out from another room.

You looked over at George and gave him a questioned expression. He just shrugged his shoulders and stood up. You followed him into the room where Fred was calling you.

But he wasn’t there.

“Fred?” You asked, looking around.

Fred and Hermione were hiding. Hermione quietly pulled out her wand, gave it a small wave, and a mistletoe began to form over you and George.

George looked up and began to turn red.

“Oh, bloody hell.” He mumbled, running his fingers through his hair.

You looked up as well, and then turned your gaze back to George.

“Alright, (Y/N), it’s a Christmas law. Pucker up.” Fred laughed, coming out of hiding, Hermione also following.

“Hermione? What-”

“Just do it!”

Before you could even begin your sentence, George had cupped your face in his hands and pushed his lips against yours.

It felt as if time was frozen all around you, and it was just you and him. You felt the spark that everyone talked about when you kiss someone.

When the kiss ended, you looked up at George and smiled.

“Alright, we’ll leave you to sort things out.” Fred said, motioning Hermione to leave as well.

When they were both gone, you turned back to George.

“Would you care to join me on a walk, milady?” George smirked, holding out his arm. You giggled and gladly took it.

The two of you walked outside for a little while, watching the sun set as you talked.

“Since the hat sorting ceremony, huh?” You grinned.

“Yeah. Your face was just too pretty to miss.” George said, smirking once more.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“(Y/N), you are quite honestly the most amazing girl I’ve ever met, and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship with my feelings.” He paused.

“But, I am seriously in love with you. I know you wouldn’t want to be caught dead with a git like me but I’d love it if I could have the honor of being your boyfriend.” George said, taking your hand in his.

Your cheeks turned red again.

“I love you too, Georgie.” You said. You stood on your tippy toes to reach his lips and gave him a quick peck. “I’d love to be your girlfriend.”

“God, you’re cute. You don’t even have to try,” George chuckled.

“I know.” You teased. He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you close to him.

“Merry Christmas, (Y/N),” George said softly, kissing your forehead.

“Merry Christmas, Georgie.”

~The End~
•Thank you for requesting!•

Alex Karev/ George O’Malley Imagine

Alex Karev/ George O’Malley Imagine
2515 Words
Suggestions: Reader is George’s twin sister. Song Shot!
Song: Wish You Were Here by Avril Lavigne
Requested By:
Several Anonymous
Disclaimer: I do NOT own Grey’s Anatomy, NOR WISH YOU WERE HERE, Nor YOU!

Originally posted by dcrek

I can be tough
I can be strong
But with you
It’s not like that at all
There’s a girl
That gives a shit
Behind this wall
You just walked through it

You didn’t wanna believe it was George. Meredith told you there was a John Doe in the ICU. She said it was George. Personally, you thought she was thinking that George hurt himself, that going into the military was a mistake, so you didn’t believe it. When you saw the guy, your thoughts turned. In a second, your mind quickly turned over into fear’s claws as you so hesitantly placed your hand on the ICU glass as Callie went in. Everyone else stood around and watched. The moment she started to cry, your whole world crumbled.

He’s dead, You thought at first.

You stared at him on the ICU bed, repeating those words over and over again your mind.

He’s dead.

You slowly slid down onto your knees and pressed your face against the glass. Callie walked out, only to stare at you, his twin sister, in sorrow. You stared for a few more minutes, while everyone was in silence. You got up on your feet and turned your head. Most of everyone looked at you.

“I’m going home.”

Your voice was dry. Your head was pounding. You walked past everyone, even past Callie, who was trying to grab your arm and reach out to you. You went to the staircase and stared out one of the windows, deciding if you were going to drive or just walk home. Buses and taxis were no longer an option in your brain.

And I remember all those crazy things you said
You left them running through my head
You’re always there, you’re everywhere
But right now I wish you were here.
All those crazy things we did
Didn’t think about it, just went with it
You’re always there, you’re everywhere
But right now I wish you were here

You were paged to Izzie’s room. You got up and sighed.

Help everyone. Help Izzie,” George’s words echoed in your head.

You headed to Izzie’s room. When you got there, you saw Alex, Izzie, and Callie. You stared at the 3 of them.

“Tell her,” Callie whispered to you.

You looked back at Izzie. Alex gave you a look that said ‘Don’t. Your heart was in your throat. You haven’t really come to terms with it yourself.

“(Y/n)-,” Alex started.

“I’m taking a break,” You breathed, tears slowly slipping out of your eyes.

They all looked at you in shock.

“I’m going on vacation,” You muttered, turning around and heading out.

You saw Bailey in the elevator. She looked at you.

“(Y/n),” She murmured.

You crumbled… Like a cookie, you crumbled. You caved in as you started crying, holding your face in your hands.

“He’s dead,” Your voice cracked.

Damn, Damn, Damn,
What I’d do to have you
Here, here, here
I wish you were here.
Damn, Damn, Damn
What I’d do to have you
Near, near, near
I wish you were here.

You were inside Meredith’s house, like always. You’d sit, knees tucked in, watching TV drama’s until you got sick of it. Dr. Webber allowed you to take the next few days or weeks off until you were getting over it in the littlest way possible. You heard Izzie was going to be released, and didn’t care one bit. Your heart hurt, and some part of you wished you didn’t hear that. Occasional people came over other than Meredith or Derek who lived here. You were crashing until you couldn’t crash anymore. You hit your low. You lost your dad a few months ago, now you lost George. He was your other half. You both were outcasts in your family, you both being Doctors, and you being a girl the most compared to your other brothers. You heard the door open, and turned your head and saw Alex.

“Hey,” He muttered, setting his keys on the table.

You looked back at the TV.

“Mer said I could use her keys to get in, so I can talk to you.”

You nodded, not looking back at him.

“So… There’s going to be a merger. We’re merging with Mercy West.”

You nodded again.

“Everyone wants you to keep your job, but you might not get it if you don’t come back.”

You shrugged, not even considering having a job after what happened with George.

“(Y/n), say something. Anything. Tell me what someone can do to help you.”

You looked down slightly. Alex was a good friend of yours, despite the constant feud with George every other while or so. You learned he was going to stick around for a while, might as well get used to it.


“I want George… I want him to come back. I want to run to George and ask him what to do… but he isn’t here anymore. My other half. My brother. He isn’t here. He’s gone. He’s dead. I could’ve done something. I could’ve said something, and I didn’t. Instead, I left him be. I just left him be. Now I can’t help but feel down. I want to do something, but I can’t. I don’t know if I can. I want to come back and not see a ghost following me around every corner, taunting me, haunting me with every fiber in its nonexistent body. I want to get up and walk straight in there and say ‘Hello World, I’m back’. But I can’t now, can I?”

After your some-sort of mini-speech, Alex grabbed your shoulders and made you face him.

“Come back. Everyone’s there. Me, Mer, Cristina, Izzie, we’re all there. It’s been 2 weeks. We want you back. I’ve never seen you quit. I’ve seen you take things head on, helping George in the elevator, helping out when Mer drowned, helping out when Izzie was crashing and burning. You’ve done everyone something good. Don’t break that since George is gone.”

You grabbed his collar and growled.

“Don’t you dare say that. I know I helped, that’s what I was born to do. I was born to take the world by the horns and help. Don’t you dare repeat to me what happened in the past year and a half. You’re not the only person who has told me that!”

You were looming over him, his collar in your fist as you gave him an angry look. He smirked.

“Welcome back.”

You let his collar go.

“You can tell everyone I’ll be back tomorrow. Let me ease back into it.”

You walked into the kitchen.

I love
The way you are
It’s who I am
Don’t have to try hard
We always say
Say it like it is
And the truth
Is that I really mi-i-iss

You walked into Seattle Grace with a few things in mind. You entered the doors with a calm look. You shut your eyes as you walked into the elevator, heading to Webber’s office. When you walked in, he said just a few words. ‘Welcome Back, get to work.’ Honestly, it was easier said than done. You walked in and changed into your scrubs. You saw where George’s stuff was at and saw his lab coat. You put yours on and took a deep breath. You were on Bailey’s service today. You arrived in front of her with a plain and simple look.

“I’m ready for whatever you have set for me Dr. Bailey,” You nodded.

She jumped up and looked at you.

“Oh, O’Ma-… (Y/n). Welcome back. How are you,” She asked.

“I want to get through the day, nothing special needed. I’ll whatever easy or hard task you have for me.”

You nodded your head.

“Alright, I have a couple of labs needed for today, can you get them?”

“Yes ma’am.”

You were back.

All those crazy things you said (things you said)
You left them running through my head (through my head)
You’re always there, you’re everywhere
But right now I wish you were here.
All those crazy things we did (things we did)
Didn’t think about it, just went with it (went with it)
You’re always there, you’re everywhere
But right now I wish you were here

After a few weeks of getting comfortable, you already got used to the merger. You didn’t like Mercy West, but you’re going to have to tolerate them eventually.

“So, O’Malley, what are you doing after work?”

It was that one guy that kept trying to hit on you, what was his name? Oh yeah, Charles Percy.

“Don’t call me O’Malley,” You muttered, finishing off the chart you were filling out.

Izzie left, not much to your surprise. George has been dead for a while now, which is what you noticed greatly. It was a tad bit touchy when people called you by your last name.

“You’re Dr. O’Malley, why wouldn’t people call you by your last name?”

You walked away and went to change, with him following you. You rolled your eyes. He kept asking you, even while you were both were in front of everyone in the changing room.

“Because only patients call me Dr. O’Malley, you finally gave him an answer.”

“On a professional level, people would call you O’Malley.”

“No, they wouldn’t,” Meredith shook her head.

“Why? Is she special,” A red haired girl, you knew as Adamson, asked.

“There were 2 O’Malley’s. She’s the younger one,” Cristina pointed out.

“And the other one?”

“Dead,” You said bluntly.

Alex, Meredith, and Cristina stared at you in shock. They knew it was hard for you to say the words Death, George, and O’Malley in the same sentence.

“He was my older brother. He’s dead. Before that, they called him O’Malley and me by my name. Since I don’t like you guys at all, you can call me that. I just won’t listen.”

You gave them a fake smile and put in your shirt and jeans. You grabbed your purse and walked out. Alex jogged to you and grabbed your arm.

“(Y/n)-,” He started.

“I’m okay. I’m alright. They don’t bother me. People who know me will know what to call me.”

He leaned forward and pressed his lips against your forehead.

“If I need to knock some heads in-.”

“You won’t. I’m okay.”

You got into your car and waited. You sat in the driver’s seat, waiting for a song to be called out and acknowledged. You called the radio station every Friday night and requested a certain song to be played. Katy Perry’s Teenage Dream hit the speakers and you drove off.

Damn, Damn, Damn,
What I’d do to have you
Here, here, here
I wish you were here.
Damn, Damn, Damn
What I’d do to have you
Near, near, near
I wish you were here.

When you saw Izzie return, you didn’t know how to feel. Part of you just said, move on, and the other part said ‘who cares’. You went with ‘Who cares’.

“He’s moved on Izzie,” Meredith said as you, her, Cristina, and Izzie sat at a cafeteria lunch table.

“I know he has,” Izzie sighed.

Speaking of him, Alex walks up and looks at the 4 of you. You focused on your sandwich, suppressing your crush on the guy since intern year. Another thing that reminded you of George. He told you to confess. You haven’t, and probably never will.

“(Y/n), can we talk,” Alex’s voice rang.

The girls look at you as you looked up in confusion.

“Me? I mean… Me,” You squeaked.

“Yeah, you. C’mon, I don’t have all day.”

You got up and followed him with your sandwich in your hand. You heard Cristina laugh and Izzie asked ‘what’s so funny.’

While away, Cristina was laughing really hard.

“Seriously, what’s so funny,” Izzie asked.

“The reason he’s moved on,” Cristina giggled.


“(Y/n) is the reason why he’s moved on from you,” Meredith looked at her.

“(Y/n)? Wait, we’re talking about the same (Y/n) right?”

“Yes, the one he just walked out with.”

“I think he’s going to confess,” Cristina said.

“Of course, he is, he asked me about it this morning.”

“Alright, I’m starting to feel it.”

“Wait, Alex likes (Y/n)? And (Y/n) likes Alex,” Izzie asked.

“To answer your first question, after you left, it became an eye opener for Alex.”

“And to answer your second question, (Y/n) has been in love with Alex since Intern year. Even George said she should confess,” Meredith nodded.

Izzie nodded. The fact that he moved onto you made this even worse.

No, I don’t wanna let go
I just wanna let you know
That I never wanna let go

The constant reminder of George telling you to confess to Alex never left your head, and you didn’t want it to. It was a reminder of his voice. It was a reminder of something he always told you to do.

(Let go, oh, oh)

You didn’t want it to leave you. It was something heartbreaking.

No, I don’t wanna let go
I just wanna let you know
That I never wanna let go


Alex grabbed your attention as you looked up, finished with your sandwich by now.

“What’s up,” You asked, tilting your head to the side.

“I… love you.”

You blinked twice.

“Come again?”

“I love you.”

You stared at him.

“Okay, wait, you love me? As in you love me back?!”

“Wait, love you back?”

“Whoops, I didn’t say that. No, I said love me. Yeah, so, you love me?”

“I’m not brushing off that you said ‘Love me back’. You love me too?”

“Well… Yeah… I do… In a way… Yeah, I really do.”

He had his hands on your shoulders.

(Let go let go let go let go let go let go let go)

“How long?”


“How long?!”

“Since Intern Year! I wasn’t going to tell you then and surely, I wasn’t going to tell you now or in the future for that matter. You’re just… Ugh. I didn’t want to, and I have my reasons.”

“What reasons?”


“Damnit, tell me!”

Damn, Damn, Damn,
What I’d do to have you
Here, here, here
I wish you were here (I wish you were here)
Damn, Damn, Damn
What I’d do to have you
Near, near, near
I wish you were here.

“I remember George’s words clearly. He always told me to confess to you, even when he didn’t like you. He’d tell me ‘You should tell him, and brush those feelings aside when he rejects you’. Honestly, to other people, it’s sounds harsh, but it’s George. He cared enough for me to say it then and he would want me to say it now… But I’m afraid I won’t remember his voice. I want to remember his voice.”

Damn, Damn, Damn (Damn)
What I’d do to have you
Here, here, here (Here)
I wish you were here.
Damn, Damn, Damn
What I’d do to have you
Near, near, near
I wish you were here.

Alex leans down and kisses you deeply.

“You won’t forget. Okay?”


He was a stout, earnest fellow, and I liked him very much.

Detective Llewellyn Watts (wonderful Daniel Maslany –talent does run in this family, it practically gallops!), about Constable Augustus Jackson (nonetheless wonderful Kristian Bruun), and I haven’t stopped crying since Monday.

I let myself be fooled by this instant of hope, like Julia; although, deep down I knew, they could not all be alive. I’m gonna miss Constable Jackson, immensely, he was my favorite Station House 4 Constable. Okay, I adore George as well, and I almost choke on tears when I thought he was dead too (oh, how you got me there Peter Mitchell, how you completely got me!); but there were a few occasions I found him a bit irritating (what with the courting of Miss Cherry when he had freaking Nina Bloom; he might have redeemed himself with her though, and thus with me.) And Higgins can be exasperating at times, oftentimes. I never found Jackson annoying; and Detective Watts said it best, I liked him very much.

It was a brilliant return for Murdoch Mysteries, and I’m excited for what’s in store this season, especially if Watts is lingering a bit. I will miss Jackson, and Kristian Bruun’s sweet, beautiful face for a long while though.

The Ghost of John

Have you seen the ghost of John?

Long white bones and the rest all gone

Ooh,ooh-ooh-oh, oh, oh

Wouldn’t it be chilly with no skin on?


Behind folklore and legend, lies truth. Sometimes it is pretty truth. Sometimes it is partial truth. Sometimes it is ugly truth. Many folk songs have ugly, disturbing truth hidden behind their seemingly innocuous facade.

Consider the nursery rhyme, “Rock-a-bye baby.”

It starts out nice enough:

“Rock-a-bye baby, in the treetop

When the wind blows, the cradle will rock”

And then it turns subtly sinister.

“If the bow breaks, the cradle will fall

and down will come baby, cradle and all”

Death. It finds its way into even the most innocent things. It’s woven into the very fabric of life; the one thing that every person on earth will experience at one point or another is DEATH.

I tell you this story, not because I want to, but because I have to. You see, some curiosities are better left unresolved. As the old adage goes, “Curiosity killed the cat.” Of course, the standard rebuttal is that “Satisfaction brought him back.” However, cats have nine lives, don’t they? We don’t.

Odd, how you can begin reading deeply into myth and legend, folklore, and it all begins to unravel itself. Curiosity of course killed our feline friend, and of course satisfaction brought him back, considering that folklore claims that he has nine lives. Folklore intersects and contradicts until it all begins to unravel at the seams. Or perhaps it knots and tangles itself up?

Behind folklore and legend, lies some sort of truth. It’s rather terrifying if you consider the implications of that. Something existed at some point to cause these stories. Why, in every part of the world, were there ancient stories of dragons? From whence sprang the terror of the bloodsucking vampire? If you read between the lines, it all begins to come undone. I fear that we may one day truly unravel these fictional tales, and find the fact behind them.

And I fear that the truth will be worse than the fiction.

I’m rambling. I apologize for that.

I’m thirty-seven years old. The events of which I’m about to tell happened twenty-seven years ago. They rendered me blind, until two years ago when I became the candidate for a corneal replacement surgery. The surgery was successful.

Oh, how I wish it hadn’t been. I’m in no direct hurry to complete this memoir, but nonetheless I don’t want to waste time; time has a rather nasty habit of running out faster than anticipated when you do. And I am on a schedule. My deadline by my count is this evening, around eleven o’clock. Or perhaps one o’clock tomorrow morning. These things don’t have a set of guidelines I can follow or read through. Eleven is the safe number to assume. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst. You may be wondering what is setting this deadline; I’ll get to that soon enough. For now I’m going to explain the circumstances behind me losing my vision for the better part of three decades.

When I lost my sight, I was only ten years old. The hospital said it was corneal burn trauma. They didn’t believe my story. The shrink assumed I had subconsciously made up my story as a coping mechanism, and simply blocked out the “true” accident.

I can say now just as I could twenty-seven years ago that it was not corneal burn trauma. I did not make this story up to cope with an accident that didn’t happen. This is the true story of how I lost my sight, and how I am going to die tonight at either eleven o’clock or one o’clock.

The first time I heard the song Ghost of John was about a week before Halloween, when I was nine. I loved it. The sense of melancholy, the hint of dread. For that week, the song was all I could think about. I hummed it constantly. Sang it under my breath often. I was a child who grew up reading everything horror from Poe to Lovecraft to Stephen King. The song spoke to me.

Halloween came and went, as it does, and I forgot about the song soon after. A year went by. I became ten, and acquired a vested interest in learning to pilot. I read books about it, I watched movies about it. It became my absolute dream to become a pilot. I tell you this not to illustrate the bitter irony in my losing my vision not long after that, but to explain just how obsessive I could become over one subject when it captured my interest.

Halloween drew nearer. My best friend, Ivan, and I would stay up late on weekends telling each other horror stories. Ivan had the first two Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark books and I had the third one and a collection of Edgar Allen Poe short tales, so there was almost always material to draw upon. Sometimes his Dad would set up his four-person tent and a couple of cots and a campfire and we would tell stories around it. Most times we were in my living room or his telling our stories to the light of the TV. Sometimes we watched horror movies, but they didn’t have the same magic as a good scary story.

I heard the song again a couple of weeks before that Halloween. Back to singing it. Ivan had moved in from Illinois in November of the previous year, so he hadn’t been privy to my previous obsession with the song. It wasn’t as bad this time around as it was the previous year, but I sang it often enough for him to notice. It turned out that he had heard it back in Pawnee as well. It was a common song.

We were sitting in his living room when he noticed me humming it.

“Are you humming Ghost of John?” he asked.

“I am,” I said, “it’s a great song. Creepy.”

Ivan smiled. “I thought I recognized that. It’s really creepy. But I bet the real Ghost of John is even creepier than the song.” I grinned a little and said, “I don’t think he’s real. But even if he were, he seems nice enough in the song. He’s not sad. It says so in the song.” Ivan eyeballed me for a second, and then quietly said “not being sad doesn’t mean you’re nice. I heard from my uncle that there’s a way to summon the ghost of John.” I gave a rather loud snort of laughter at that, and then asked “yeah, but didn’t this same uncle also say that Bigfoot and werewolves are real?”

Ivan, looking affronted, opened his mouth to reply but before he could make a sound the hallway light came on. We turned to look at it. Ivan’s Dad walked down the hallway and, looking annoyed, said “hey guys, it’s almost two in the morning. I think it’s time for you two to go to bed. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Alright Dad,” “Goodnight Mr. T” in unison, and then I was laying on one couch and Ivan the other.

Here’s the part where I’m supposed to say that Ivan dropped right off to sleep while I tossed and turned for hours wondering if the Ghost of John really was real.

Keep reading

George Weasley imagone

You sighed as you turned the page in your book. It was another christmas holiday you were spending at Hogwarts. Your parents were famous muggle celebrities, and they had yet another tour to go on, leaving you alone. You didn’t mind though. You were used to being alone, as sad as it was.

 Tucking a strand of  your (H/C) hair behind your ear, you shivered slightly. You were currently sitting on a window sill in one of the many corridors in Hogwarts. Not many people were around, so it wasn’t as if you were going to be judged or bothered for that matter.

 “Cold?” A voice asked making you jump. “Whoa, calm down (Y/L/N), It’s only me,” You turn to see a Weasley twin towering above you. “Merlin, don’t sneak up on someone like that!” You snip lightly, dramatically taking deep breaths. 

George laughed, “Oh come now, you aren’t dead.” You shrug helplessly, “True… . but you could’ve given me a heart attack!” You say and lightly punch George’s shoulder. “Ow! That hurt!” George pouted. 

 You roll your  big (Y/E/C) eyes, and a soft smile played at your lips. “Quit being so dramatic, anyway, what’re you doing here?” 

 “That, is exatcly what I’d like to ask you (Y/N).” George said smartly. Your shoulders slumped, “Ehh, just trying to get some light reading in, since there isn’t anything to do here without Angelina, Katie, and Alicia gone for the holidays.” 

 “Why aren’t you with your parents?” He asked, as he offered you a hand. You hesitantly take it, and let him pull you off the windowsill. “My parents had a world tour to go on. Being famous and all, they left me behind.” You answer, but add, “As usual,”

 “They do it often?” George asked, you nod, as the two of you began walking down the corridor, your arms were swinging awkwardly at your side.. “Yeah, but I don’t mind. I’m used to it. Anyway, why are you here Mr. Weasley?” 

 “Mum and Dad went off to Romania to visit my brother Charlie. He’s studying dragons.” This perked your interest and you look up at him excitedly. “Dragons? Is he really? Wow, that’s really cool!” George laughed lightly, and you frown slightly. 

“What’s so funny, Weasley?” You asked him. He shook his head waving you off, “Sorry, don’t mind me, it’s just–I never thought (Y/N) (Y/LN) The hufflepuff would be into Dragons of all things.” 

 You huff, “There nothing is wrong with being a hufflepuff! We’ve got excellent seeking skills, and we’re very diligent and hardworking!” You say defensively. “And what’s wrong with me liking Dragons? They’re very fascinating if you ask me, and–”

 You were cut off by even more laughter, “Geez, You’re so sensitive! I was just saying you break the stereotypical Hufflepuffs. You’re rebellious. You got spunk. I like that about you,” You blushed slightly, and let George continue on, 

“If you want I’ll even introduce you to Charlie. You two can have a whole conversation about dragons,” You narrow your eyes, “What’s the catch?” You ask George suspiciously, as you two walked through the corridors.

 “Why (Y/L/N) would you ever think there’s a catch to anything?” George asked innocently. “Because your George Weasley. There’s always a catch when it comes to you and your brother Fred.” You said shrewdly. George shrugged grinning mischievously. 

“Alright, you got me, The catch is, that you’ll agree to have a butterbeer with me at Hogsmeade.” You shrug, “Alright, next Hogsmeade trip it is.”

 George smirked, “No, I meant now.” Your eyes narrowed in confusion. “What do you mean now? We’re not allowed to go now. We only get to go during the trips. Those are the rules.” 

 “Rules are more like guidelines in my eyes.” You widened your eyes, “George!” You scolded. George smirked, “Now or never love,” He said holding a hand out to you. “But–But you don’t even know how to sneak to Hogsmeade.” 

 “Actually, I do know a way. Come on, we’re going to the common room so you can grab a jumper, then we’re leaving.”

 “You can’t be serious about this!”

 “I’m being dead serious.” 

 “We could get in trouble!”

 “Don’t you trust me?”


Interviewer: Are you guys willing to say your real names?

J-Dog: No. At least I’m not…

Me: Your name is Jorel Decker, you were born May 1, 1984. You’re engaged to Vanessa James . You’ve been in 3 bands including, 3 Tears, Dead Planets and now currently, Hollywood Undead. You went to boarding school for 4 years, and you’ve known both Johnny and Charlie (also known as George and Jordon) since pre-school. Would you like me to continue? 

The last thing he remembers is Jim screaming for him. And it’s the broken sound that makes Bones’ heart break and echoes through his ears as he opens his eyes. 

It’s white wainscoting and ceiling that his eyes see and as he struggles to sit up, Jim’s voice echoing gets dimmer and dimmer. 

“Hello, Leonard.” A voice to his right says and Bones whips his head around to see a smiling George Kirk sitting on a blue couch, holding a glass of sweet tea in his hands. 

“I’m dead or having a fucked up dream.”

“You’re not dead.” George Kirk says. If Bones didn’t know it, he could be staring into the face of his husband. But Jim’s eyes don’t have the same laughter lines around them or quite the same innocent mischief. 

George gestures to a chair of a similar color next to the couch and pours Bones a glass. “If I’m not dead, then this is one crazy dream.”

“Consider it a break.”

“I don’t need one.” What he needs to wake up, to reassure Jim that he’s okay. Not have a conversation with his very dead father-in-law. 

Bones eyes the glass that George hands him, knowing that it’s not right to play into a delusion or dream but the other man raises his eyebrows in an expression that’s pure Jim. “Humor me? Not everyday a dead man gets to talk to his son-in-law.”

Bones snorts and takes a sip. It’s refreshing and delicious, a kind of taste he hasn’t had since his Nana made Sweet Tea fifteen years ago. 

“Stop thinking so hard. You start getting into your head how all this is possible, how it must not be real and you lose some of what it’s worth.” George tells him, his eyes losing a little of their mirth. 

“Am I going to wake up?”

“If you want to.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Like I said, Leonard, consider this a break.” George stretches out on the couch and Bones looks around, taking in the rest of the room. He realizes that he’s in the Riverside farmhouse that Winona Kirk raised her sons in after George died, or mostly raised them in. He remembers Jim saying once when they visited, the first and last time, that it belonged to George’s family. 

“I wanted to thank you.” George said. “I’ve got to see a lot of Jim’s life and it hasn’t been easy and I’m sorry for every day that I didn’t get to spend with Jim, Sam, Winona. But I wouldn’t regret that decision I made.”

Bones looks down at his hands, at the the wedding band sitting securely on his finger and then he looks over at George’s hand and at the one there as well. 

“I know and thank you for making that choice. Wouldn’t have met him if you did.” He gives George a small sad smile. 

“You help him, Leonard. You saved him. I cannot thank you enough for that.” George stands and offers his hand. Bones stares at it for a second before taking it. On a list of things he thought he’d do in his life, shaking hands in some purgatory dream with George Kirk. 

“You’re welcome but you’re thanks…it’s not necessary. He helps me to, saved me more than I can count.”

George doesn’t say anything but nods.

“Some would say it’s too late. That once you get here,” George releases his hand and gestures around the place. “That you’re gone. But you brought my boy back. And I’m going to do the same for you.”

Bones takes a step back. “What do you mean?”

“Just going to help you get back to Jim. Just if you can remember, tell him, I’m proud of him. I wish I was actually there to say that.”

Bones swallows and swipes at his eyes. “Thank you.”

“No Leonard. Thank you.”

George Kirk smiles, a sad and watery smile, before reaching out and giving Bones a push. He falls back, surprised by the action and tries to catch onto something but there’s nothing to grab. 

He wakes with a jolt. 

Bones.” Jim gasps, and he realizes that he’s in Medbay, Jim’s hands locked tightly around his own, half of his body nearly on the part of the bed that isn’t occupied. 

“Jim? What happened?”

Jim wipes at his eyes. “Bastard. Thought I lost you.”

Bones can’t help the laugh that comes out more raspy and he chokes on it. “Now.” He says after Jim hands him some water. “You know how I feel.”

Jim moves onto the bed, resting their foreheads together and their lips meet. “Never again.”

“Okay, darlin’” he says and squeezes Jim’s hand. 

[NEWS] FULL "Feel It All" Questions & Answers Session on Twitter by Tokio Hotel [04.05.2015]

Q: I don’t know which series to watch anymore, so which ones would you suggest me ?
A:You have to see House of Cards!
Q: Argentinas floor is asking for Bill, when will you visit Buenos Aires?
A: Not announced yet but YES!!!!
Q: ???
A: Well guess… ;)
Q: R u still planning on releasing a new album by the end of 2015?
A: of course you are!!! #Aliens
Q: What’s your favorite Disney movie?
A: Bill: Lion King Tom: Fox in a hound Gustav: Lion King Georg: Arielle ;-)
Q: What’s the song/artists you’re currently listening to ? :)
A: MAX ELTOQ: Would you be happy to meet some europe fans in the USA, too?
A: yes. we want to see you all on part2
Q: Georg, when will we have a new video of your sport sessions?
A: I need to practise a bit more…:-)
Q: ??? A: Love Me Like You Do. I’m Christian Grey (Tom) in the relationship
Q: Is Pumba with you? :>
A: yep… sitting right next to me
Q: Bill&Tom, did you have fun at Coachella?:D
A: It was our best Coachella so far!
Q: Tom put a picture of you naked and you can open your IG !
A: you post a naked one first and then i’ll think about it :-)
Q: Bill,if u could swap ur voice w/ any other singer for 1 day,who’d it be?
A: Steven Tyler
Q: TOM TELL ME your favorite characters from Sons of Anarchy!
A: Jax Teller
Q: Bill, did you have sometimes secret account on facebook? Greetings from Czech Christie.
A: no! i’m not on facebook.. only IG
Q: Bill, Tom are you still planning to write a book ? :)
A: yes. we already started…
Q: which song was the hardest to play live on this tour? ;-) ;*
A: for Georg pretty much every song was impossible …
Q: Hey guys, in this Part 2 Georg will pole dance?
A: Maybe! Is this a portrait of Georg? looks so much like him
Q: Georg and Gustav don’t you want to write a book
A: Georg and Gustav can’t write… that’s the problem
Q: ???
A: We had waffles
Q: Do you already have some new song ideas? I feel like this tour was full of inspiration.
A: yes. we were in the studio.. can’t wait for you to hear it
Q: Does Pumba have a girlfriend?
A: no. he’s still a puppy
Q: ???
A: i love it! ;-)
Q: Stupidest thing you did on Gustav’s wedding? :D
A: dance to Eiffel65 …
Q: ???
A: auf alten Schiffen…
Q: what is your fav meal?
A: curly fries… is that a meal?
Q: ???
A: Brazil is included
Q: if you guys were a candle, what scent would you be?
A: Gustav: Garlic…
Q: which of you guys is the worst in cooking? :D
A: Bill and Tom
Q: Hiii guys! Who do you think should take the throne in Game of Thrones? ;)
A: Jon Targaryen !
Q: hi guys! Today is my birthday! Could you say “happy birthday” to me? :)
A: Happy Birthday!!!
Q: Gustav, did you do some duckface since the tour?
A: the whole time
Q: Bill, what was your favorite tour costume? I loved seeing you as a king!!
A: Yeah I liked that too…
Q: ???
A: mit Sahne
Q: why Georg without a beard?
A: Tom likes it shaved
Q: why didn’t you play DIDT?
A: DIDT? Don’t know that song ;-)
Q: I want a shirtless tour !
A: We want a topless audience tour!
Q: ???
A: soon
Q: Georg, have you played the Walking Dead videogame?
A: not so far… is it good?
Q: sweets or fast food?
A: fast food for sure!!!!
Q: Are you planning to tell us SOON the dates for Latinamerica concerts?
A: that’s gonna be next

I’ve talked about Gandalf [in The Lord of the Rings], and how the impact of his death was enormous. When I was a 12-year-old kid reading The Fellowship of the Ring and ‘Fly, you fools!’ and he goes into the chasm …  it was ‘Holy shit! [J.R.R. Tolkien] killed the wizard! That’s the guy who knew everything. How are they going to destroy the ring without him?’ And now the ‘kids’ have to grow up because their ‘daddy’ is dead. If Gandalf could die, anybody could die. And then just a few chapters later Boromir goes down. Those two deaths created in me the ‘anyone could die’ thing. At that point I was expecting [Tolkien] to pick off the whole Fellowship one by one. And then we also think in The Two Towers that Frodo is dead, since Shelob stung him and wrapped him up. I really bought it because he set me up with those other deaths. But then, of course, he brings Gandalf back. He’s a little strange at first, but then he’s basically the same old Gandalf. I liked the impact we got from him being gone.
—  George R. R. Martin 
This, again

Tonight I remembered that my mom’s birthday is a couple weeks away. It’s weird that I forgot, but then again, it’s not. She’s been dead since 2007, almost as long as I’ve been on Tumblr. George Bush was President in 2007. Drake was Aubrey. I had yet to scream “GET IT THE FUCK OUT OF ME” during childbirth. Time goes and goes and goes. 

My mom would be turning 65 on November 15.

I feel sad, but I don’t. I just feel…something. It’s an empty feeling, I think. A spot in your gut where the memories would have gone had she lived. 

I googled “Dreading my dead mom’s death” in Google image search because it’s 10:39 and I don’t feel like going to sleep. Most of the pictures were of other dead moms, but this wonderful photo of Wendy Williams marveling at Jillian Michaels’s ass was wedged in there, between the dead moms and pictures of birthday cakes with sad quotes pasted above them. 

I love this. My mom would love this. So if I do start to get sad, if instead of sleeping I think about how I would be flying out to Boston to surprise her at a party with all her friends and she’d still have that same old bob but with more grey and she’d probably be wearing all black and patent leather clogs and she’d smell good, that Dolce and Gabbana Light Blue spritzed on her hair…I will look at this picture, and I’ll laugh. I will think of her laughing, too. And I’ll keep on going and going and going.