thank you everyone but i took george's because it's for her

April 1st (Fred Weasley x Reader smut)

Request: Hello, can I make a request I’m sorry if they are closed but could it be Fred x reader smut where everyone is celebrating the twins birthday and after the party reader has a surprise for him because he says he feels ‘old’ please and thank you Have a nice day goodbye.

I’m a freakin slacker. It’s definitely not April 1st. Just pretended bc I think I’ve gotten a bit better at smut. But, keep in mind I’m still learning, it’s not the best but it was still fun bc I love Fred.

It was April 1st 2017, the Weasleys were gathered around the small dining room table in The Burrow.

Molly was holding two glorious chocolate cakes that she then set gently in front of her twin sons, who looked greedily at each other then at their beautiful cakes.

They were iced thickly with thirty nine candles and due to limited space, some softly floated above the rest.

You were sitting next to your husband, Fred, admiring his longing face.

You adored the way he still bit his lip like a teenager, awaiting the delicious chocolate cake.

Fred looked young for his age, so did his brother. He was starting to get flecks of grey in his flaming hair and had a couple laugh lines, but the childlike gleam in his eyes made him look as if he were 20.

The families sang and after cake they all sat in the sitting room, passing presents to the twins.

“Ron! This is from MY store” George groaned as he opened a box of sniveling snack boxes.

You laughed as you saw a chucking Ron earn a slap on the shoulder from Hermione.

Fred was opening a gift from his mother.

“Oh… Mum, you’re so thoughtful” He said flatly as he held up a pair of socks.

“All of yours have holes in them!” She stated, she leaned close to him and you barely caught what she said.

“They’re enchanted to make the wearer do an Irish jig” Mrs. Weasley giggled softly.

Fred suddenly stood and hugged her tightly.

George was ripping open another present. His face suddenly went white as he read the note inside, yours was identical when you realized he accidentally opened your gift to Fred.

His eyes flicked over to you, wider than you’ve ever seen them.

“That’s not for you” you whispered quietly through gritted teeth.

“Thank Merlin” He sighed, though still looking disgusted at what he’d just read. “Angelina’d kill us both”

Thankfully everyone was too distracted by the present from Bill and Fleur Fred was opening to notice your little scuffle.

“Oi, Freddie, this ones yours” George said, looking glad to get the note as far away from him as possible, and tossed it to Fred after he was done thanking Bill and Fleur for the new assortment of colorful handkerchiefs.

Fred, seeing it was from you, smiled and opened the letter.

His eyes widened much like his brother but his face became almost as red as his hair.

'I have on that lacey black thing you like, Happy Birthday, Love’

Fred gulped deeply, and quickly crumpled the note and shoved it in his pocket. You knew he secretly loved it when you would turn him on in public.

He locked eyes with you, a familiar mischievous grin sliding across his face.

“There’s more.” You said, giggling.

Fred looked back down at the gift and pulled apart the tissue paper. His jaw dropped, he grabbed and brought the tickets closer to his eyes to inspect them.

“Vat are those?” Asked Fleur, curiously.

“Tickets to America” Fred said breathlessly.

“You get to go on a muggle plane!?” Exclaimed Arthur, his voice full of longing.

You and Fred did okay for yourselves but we’re never able to afford trips. You’d been saving since last year to buy them.

“(Y/N)” Fred said looking up over at you, eyes full of disbelief.

“Well, now I wish I’d kept it” grumbled George.

Fred stood and walked over to you, engulfing you in a tight, loving hug.

“I love you” he murmured over and over in your hair.

“I love you too” you said back when he pulled away, arms still around your waist.

“Where In America?” Asked Hermione.

“New York City!” Your replied, excitedly.
“I’ve never been there but I’ve heard it’s amazing”

“Is it a big city?” asked Arthur, sitting, obviously very curious.

“Very, its full of sky scrapers, lights and people”

“Confounding” he murmured to himself.

“You sure at his age, Fred’ll able to handle that?” Ron chuckled, lightly pushing his older brother.

Seeing the sharp look from Fred, Hermione whispered a threatening “Ron” through gritted teeth.

Not getting the clue as usual, Ron continued.

“I really should have gotten you some hair dye for that grey, but I guess it happens when you get old-OW!” He shouted as Hermione jabbed her elbow into his ribs.

“Well, as much as I’m thankful for you all being here I’m going to have to retire to my flat” said Fred, standing.

You could tell he was upset by the way his face twisted, trying not to show his feelings.

“C'mon Freddie, its only 10” Ron said grabbing his brothers shoulder.

“I guess my age is getting to me” Fred snapped, shrugging off his hand.

“Love you all, thanks for coming” and he aparated to your flat.

The room was quiet for a moment.

“Guess that’s my cue” You said with a chuckle, trying to clear a bit of the tension.

You kissed Hermione, Mrs. Weasley, and Fleur’s cheeks and hugged Mr. Weasley, Ron, and Bill.

“Goodnight, thanks for coming”

“Bye, (Y/N)”

Everyone waved as you aparated away.

You felt the pressure from aparatting fade as you appeared in your flat.

“Fred?” You spoke softly.

“(Y/N), You-you don’t have to worry about it, I’m fine.” Fred stuttered.

You saw him sitting in his large chair in the sitting room.

“You know he didn’t mean anything by it” You said as you walked over to him and took at seat comfortably across his lap, your legs over the arm of the chair.

Fred let his head rest on your chest, feeling the soft expansion and depression of your lungs and and the rhythmic beating of your heart.

“It’s true” he stated bluntly.

He heard your breath catch, you guided his chin to look up at you.

“Fred, it’s not true.” You said just as blunt back.

You looked deep into each other’s eyes for a moment then you lightly pressed your lips to his round, freckled nose.

He shuddered at the sensation.

“If anything I love your more with a bit of gray, it’s sexy” You whispered as you kissed his temple

“Oh yeah?” He asked chucking “You think an old man is sexy?”

“Love, I’m the same age as you, do you think I’m old?” You asked as you kissed his cheekbone.

“Of course not!” He said defensively.

He paused and looked at you.

“I’m kinda starting to see your point”

You laughed and and finally kissed his lips deeply.

He moaned softly, bringing his hand up and brushing your hair behind your ear and then rested it on your cheek.

You then moved your legs to straddle his lap.

He brought his hands down and rested them on you bum.

You deepened the kiss by dramatically turning your head, brushing your nose gently across his cheek.

You both parted for air.

You looked in his bright eyes, running your fingers though his hair.

“I guess if you’re such and old man, you won’t be able to fuck me on the kitchen counter.”

His eyes darkened, the same boyish smirk you knew since Hogwarts appeared across his face.

He stood, still holding your bum and carried you over and sat you on the counter, then immediately dipped his head down to collide his lips with yours.

Your fingers were knotted in his locks and his fingers glided under your shirt softly caressing your hips.

You felt his erection growing in his kakis on your thigh.

You brought a hand down and rubbed him through his pants, his mouth causing his breath to hitch.

He pulled from your lips and kissed down your neck, stopping to suck and nibble on your skin.

“Fuck, Fred” You moaned as he found a particularly sensitive spot.

He pulled away causing you to let out a cry, he grabbed both your cheeks with his large hands and looked in your eyes.

“I love you” he whispered, looking desperately at you, as if he were afraid you didn’t feel the same.

You replicated his movements and brought your smaller hands to his cheeks.

“I love you” You repeated.

Fred was satisfied with this and a huge smile grew on his face, his crows feet crinkling as he looked at you.

“Are you going to do something?” You asked raising your eyebrows, your cheeks starting to turn pink at the way he was staring at you.

He let out and chuckle.

“I just still can believe you’re mine”

Before you could answer he kissed you passionately, only parting for a a second for to pull your shirt over your head.

You worked at his magenta, paisley button up shirt that clashed magnificently with his red hair.

He pushed his tongue in your mouth as you slipped his shirt off his shoulders.

He explored fervently as he pulled your jeans down, revealing the tight, black, lacey panties that drove him wild.

He moaned at the sight and before you could, quickly unbuckled his belt and pulled off his pants.

He ran his fingers across your stomach as he pulled away, kissing down you chest then removing your bra, eagerly.

He sucked on your nipples, twirling his tongue causing you to let out a strangled moan.

You reached your hands down and pulled his rock hard erection from his boxers and started to stoke it up and down, feeling the pre cum dribble down your hand.

He groaned and pulled away, tilting his head back.

He slipped two fingers into your panties and felt your warm, wet heat.

“So wet for me” he moaned softly in your ear “Always so wet for me”

He entered his fingers, stretching you out quickly.

You stroked his cock faster causing him to bite his lip.

He pulled his fingers out of you and rubbed your swollen clit, spreading your juices. You writhed, bucking your hips against his fingers.

Then without warning he pulled your panties aside, still wanting to feel them when he fucked you.

You gasped at the cold air hitting you warm core.

You let go of his penis and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Please, Fred” You begged and he rubbed his tip up and down your folds.

He entered, barely filling you, then pulled out, causing you to whine.

He loved to make you beg.

“How much to your want my cock?” He asked, his voice rough in your ear.

“I’ll do anything” you begged, trying to wrap your legs around him to pull him closer.

“Anything? I guess I can’t refuse that.” He stated and shoved into you deeply.

You both groaned loudly, the feeling of this throbbing erection buried deep inside you was like no other.

He gave you open mouth kisses on your neck as he started to thrust in and out slowly.

The pace was agonizing

“H-harder” you stuttered the command, and Fred followed orders immediately.

His pace went faster, and faster.

The sounds of skin slapping and moans of both yours and Fred’s filled the air.

You felt the knot in your stomach growing and you knew you were close. By the look on Fred’s face, he was too.

Then he hit the special place in you that gave you insane pleasure.

You screamed his name as he hit it over and over.

“I’m close, love” he said with staggering breath, his face was heavenly.

“Me too” You squealed.

You clenched around him tightly, you could feel his cock twitch and the sweet sound the left his lips as he finished inside you caused the knot to burst.

Moans fell from your lips as you leaned forward, pressing kisses to his neck and chest as you both rode out your orgasms.

When he pulled out completely, he wrapped his arms around you and pressed your chest to his in a tight hug.

You tangled your fingers in his hair and nestled your nose in his neck.

“I appreciate you a lot, and I don’t know what I’d do without you” he said, muffled from his lips being on your shoulder.

“And I’m excited for that trip” He added.

“Me too” you agreed, humming softly.

“And about that 'anything’ you said you’d do…”

You giggled.

“ Yeah, what about it?”

He looked embarrassed at you, his cheeks turning a bit pink under his freckled skin.

“Could you, um.. swing by mum and dad’s and pick up the rest of that cake?”

You laughed loudly, rolling your eyes your boyish husband.

“I got so mad, I forgot to grab it and it’d be embarrassing going back to get it after I stormed out” he said looking down at you with a small smile.

You pressed a finger to his lips.

“Consider it done.”

anonymous asked:

heya, i know this'll be a load of hassle for you and i completely understand if you don't want to but could you explain the whole mclennon thing a bit more for me? i know they were obviously very close but i'm kinda new to it all so i'm still a bit clueless about things.

Once upon a time, in a land called Liverpool, lived 2 young boys named John Lennon and Paul McCartney.

John was a witty, funny guy, who didn’t like school and preferred to wander the streets with his school mates and play banjo. Paul was a smart guy who had really good grades at school and occasionally played piano with his father at home. Since his mother’s death, Paul became obsessed with music, exchanging the trumphet his father gave him for his birthday for a guitar. He really knew how to play it, and sometimes he showed his music skills to his friends at school. One of them, Ivan, saw his talent and thought it was a good idea to make him know another friend who was into music as well: John. They met on a hot, humid day in 1957 in a church hall, and it was love at first sight.

Paul thought John how to play the guitar, how to tune it, John thought Paul how to skip school and write songs together in his house when Jim was at work. For his birthday John got some money and he decided to spend it in Paris with Paul. They stayed one week, visiting the city, frequenting art cafés pretending to be artists, planning their future, and sleeping in one bed in an old motel. They loved to be alone just the two of them, and sometimes they felt reality and the pressure of their family too suffocating. ‘Playing the guitar is all very well, John, but you’ll never make a living at it.’ said Mimi. “You have to find a steady job.” said Jim. When they wrote ‘Oh Johnny Johnny!’ , one of the very first songs of them, they expressed their hopes and dreams to go away, cause Paul’s father and Mimi were too oppressive and they wanted to leave Liverpool and live happily just the two of them.

When fame arrived, they became closer than before. They wrote songs eyeball to eyeball in Jane Asher’s house, and while they pretended to adress those songs to their supposed girlfriends, they were nothing but love letters they sent each other. If I fell, a song they recorded while holding hands or Here there and everywhere, a song Paul wrote at John’s house while waiting for him to wake up. And Nowhere man, You’ve got to hide your love away...the list is too long to mention them all. They were the most important person in each other’s lives, and the songs they wrote were the proof. “John’s princess”: that’s how the people who worked at Abbey Road called Paul. Maybe they were joking, or maybe they listened to some weird kisses noises while they were busy recording ’Think for Yourself’. When the Beatles made a Shakespeare sketch on tv, Paul played Pyramus while John played Thisbe. After that, they both bought 2 cats naming them Pyramus and Thisbe: John gave Thisbe to Paul, and Paul gave Pyramus to John.

While the Beatlesmania hit the world and the Beatles too, John’s main problem was try to find someone who could keep his feet on the ground (Help!): a crying need for help only Paul could solve. They even had a secret code they used in public to talk to each other, the spider hand thing’. In Florida they ended up crying together one night confessing how much they loved each other. Cause they knew it, but they never had the courage to say it, and in that moment, in which the whole world seemed to love and want the Beatles more than anything else, what they really needed were just each other. When the ‘bigger than jesus’ issue emerged, John was on the verge of quitting. Before the interviews he cried, he couldn’t stand one more question about it without feeing guilty. And it was always Paul who helped him, talking for him, reassuring him, telling him it would pass.

The fame was too much and they decided to quit touring and spend some time alone. The Sgt. Pepper era arrived: John and Paul lived a couple of miles away from each other, they all bought new houses, had an indepent life, but they always spent time together and not just to write songs. In that period they were more closer than ever. One night they were in the studio and John took too much LSD and he went to the roof, scaring the rest of the band. Paul took him home, and for the first time he took LSD too, cause he wanted to be with John, always. In misery and in fear. And they had this incredible, fantastic trip together, looking in each other eyes for hours, and Paul helping John to not get hurt. Their relationship was at its peak. When Brian died, everyone was shocked. The first thing John did after he heard the news was looking for Paul, when they met they hugged tightly. They felt lost, but they still had each other. They went to India, thanks to George who introduced them to the Maharishi, a ‘guru’  John saw as someone who could give him the right answers. But it didn’t happen, it turned out that the Maharishi took advantage of the girls in India, and John and Paul, who went there to try find the meaning of life, ended up discussing about each other and their relationship. Friends? No, we’re more. Boyfriends? Absolutely not. How dare you, we are the Beatles! We are in the 60s, a homophobic society who would bury us alive if we’d admit we feel something for each other. Suddenly, the person who mattered the most for John took a step back, cause John exposed him. Because they never really talked about what they were for each other, and for a long time it was convenient for Paul, who could play and joke with it as much as he wanted. But John never took it as a joke, as something futile. It was important for him, and he suddenly felt betrayed.

When they went to New York for the Apple press conference, in the car that took them to the airport Paul brought a woman he had met: Linda Eastman. John felt annoyed and bothered enough to step in Abbey Road a week later with a new fiancé: Yoko Ono, the woman who soon started to replace John, talking for him, taking decisions for him, and keeping her eveywhere, even when Paul asked to write songs together. Paul couldn’t talk to John anymore. John always needed to be reassured, he constantly needed someone by his side who could stay with him 100%, and this time the partner wasn’t Paul anymore. And he literally started using her against Paul. “I don’t want to hold your hand anymore” he told Paul right after a session at Abbey Road. Paul was devasted, he left Abbey road crying while Mal brought him home. He wrote Oh!Darling, Let it be, The long and winding road, the whole album was filled with tragic love songs. But why? He was engaged with Linda! He loved her. Who he really was talking about? During a Let it be session, they confessed each other that all those tragic love songs made them look like they were lovers.

They married their partners both in May, first Paul, then a week later John. They split up, you would say, this is the end. Well it’s not, they never really quitted. Because they spent 5 years, from 1970 to 1975 writing songs to each other: ‘How do you sleep’ ‘Dear Friend’ ‘Too many people’,Jealous guy’, in which John admitted that he got mad at Paul in the late 60s cause he was jealous.

John separated from Yoko in 1975. He met May Pang, and from that moment he started calling Paul again, dreaming to meet him again. He asked everyone if it was a good move to do. He asked May Pang, who said “Yes! of course! do it!” he asked to Paul Simon who replied Come back to Paul!”. They met in Los Angeles on a weekend. John was playing when Paul unexpectedly stopped by. When they met the room hushed. They looked at each other and started off tentatively, with a handshake and an inside joke: “Valiant Paul McCartney, I presume?” Lennon said, referencing the Shakespeare sketch they did. McCartney immediately responded: “Sir Jasper Lennon, I presume?”.

They played together and it was like coming back to the old times. John felt an excitement he hadn’t felt for years. He was ready, he wanted to come back to him, to England, to Julian. But Yoko came back, and all the hopes and dreams suddenly fell away. In 1976 Paul was in New York and they saw each other again, he didn’t know that was the last time he ever saw John. In 1980 John felt depressed, cause Yoko was leaving him for another man, and he didn’t feel creative enough to write songs anymore. He wrote a desperateJust like starting over’ on the tune of the old 50s song he played with Paul, asking him to come back together. Paul was ready, John too. Destiny maybe not. John died, and left Paul full of regrets and words never said to him that he transformed into songs: ‘Here today’, ‘The lovers that never were’ ‘My brave face‘, just to mention some of them.

John is dead, Mclennon is over? Nope. Cause Paul will not just keep writing songs about John and their beautifully tragic love story, but he even got a song from John, from the afterlife. I’m not kidding. In 1981, Paul worked on his tribute album to John Lennon called Tug of War. One song in this album is Get It, to which he invited Carl Perkins. Carl loved the experience and the following morning he wrote My Old Friend for Paul in appreciation. In fact, he recounted to Paul that usually when he writes he needs a pen and a sheet of paper to record his thoughts on, but this time the words just stuck with him. He then played the song to Paul. And Paul, upon hearing the song, went out of the room crying. Linda who was left with Carl explained that Carl’s words hit Paul hard because John’s last words to Paul when they last met before he was shot down were, “”Think about me every now and then, old friend”, words, which Carl unknowingly put into this song. In an interview Carl Perkins said: “Paul was crying, tears were rolling down his pretty cheeks, and Linda said, ‘Carl, thank you so much.’ I said, ‘Linda, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry.’ She said, ‘But he’s crying, and he needed to. He hasn’t been able to really break down since that happened to John.’ And she put her arm around me and said, ‘But how did you know?’ I said, ‘Know what?’ She said, ‘There’s two people in the world that know what John Lennon said to Paul, the last thing he said to him. But now there’s three, and one of them’s you, you know it.’ I said, ‘Girl, you’re freaking me out! I don’t know what you’re talking about!’ She said that the last words that John Lennon said to Paul in the hallway of the Dakota building were, he patted him on the shoulder and said, ‘Think about me every now and then, old friend.’‘McCartney really feels that Lennon sent me that song, he really does.’”

Close friends to Paul revealed that he talks about John in the present tense, and sometimes he admits that when he is writing a song but can’t finish it, he asks John for help, feeling him by his side and always being able to correct it and finish it.

This is the story of two men who loved each other so deeply that they wrote the greatest songs of music history about it.

answering asks!!


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request: “Hi! Um… since you needed requests I think a good idea would be you and George head to the quiddich World Cup together and when the death eaters come you get hurt and he helps you and there is flirting and fluff (hopefully I described it well!) ✌🏼-thx” by @hey-whatz-up

a/n: i’m glad how this imagine came to be but idk, i just love everything with george weasley on it lmao


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Sleepy //Draco Imagine//

Requested by: @fluffy-unicorn26

Request: Hi! Can you do a Draco imagine where the reader and him are in potions class sitting next to each other because Snape paired them up like that and the reader is so sleepy that somehow she ends up asleep in Draco’s hand and he is confused but bc he doesn’t want to wake her up he lets her sleep until the end of the class and when the reader wakes up she asks what happened and Draco tells her that she fell asleep and he explains it in a really cute way and ahdjhs idk maybe something fluffy. Tysm 💕

Warnings: none

A/n: requests are closed just until I get all these imagines posted. I think I have four more to do! Sorry for the wait guys!!!

This is gonna be a kinda short one btw


“God Y/n, you haven’t stopped yawning since we walked into this class.” Y/n’s good friend, and potions partner, Draco Malfoy laughed as he poured some sort of liquid into the cauldron and stirred it until it turned pink.

“I must have gotten about a half an hour of sleep last night.” She replied groggily as she rubbed her eyes and yawned yet again.

“What on earth could have kept you up so late?” Draco looked at her dumbfounded and she sighed.

“Mcgonagall’s paper.” She rested her chin on her hand and her eyes fluttered shut.

“Ah saved it for the very last day did we?” Draco chuckled and Y/n sighed loudly. “Well you’ll have to make sure to get a good night’s sleep tonight huh?”

Draco felt something fall onto his shoulder and he looked down to see a Y/n with her head on his shoulder, sleeping soundly. He bit his lip as he debated waking her up or not but she looked so peaceful that he shook his head and returned to his work.

As he continued with the potion, he took quick glances at Y/n sleeping quietly on his shoulder. Whenever he looked at her, a smile sneaked its way onto his face. It seemed as if everyone in the world knew about his massive crush on her, except for her.

After about twenty minutes, Draco finished the potion. He looked at Y/n, still sleeping soundly on his shoulder and smiled. He brushed a lock of her silky hair behind her ear and trailed his fingers down her in an attempt to wake her up. He hated to do it but he didn’t want Snape to catch her sleeping.

Her eyes slowly opened and she gradually lifted her head. She batted her groggy eyes and looked around the room with a confused expression. Draco was sure that she had never looked more beautiful.

Y/n finally looked at Draco and he offered her a warm smile. “Good morning darling. How did you sleep.”

“That felt really good.” She muttered as she rubbed her eyes and stretched her arms. “I needed that.”

“You’re going to need more than twenty five minutes to get rid of your sleepy eyes.” Draco chuckled as he got the attention of Snape who strode over to critique their potion.

“Tired today are we miss Y/l/n?” Snape asked as he glared at Y/n from the corner of his eye before turning his attention to the potions. “Well done nonetheless. You will both receive an A for the day.” With that, Snape turned around, his cloak flying off the ground and nearly knocking something off the table as he moved towards mother students table.

“You know, you’re kind of cute when you’re asleep.” Draco noted as he began to clean up some of the ingredients.

“You we’re watching me sleep?” She asked, slightly shocked.

“Well you were in my shoulder.” He shrugged she’s shoulders and her cheeks turned red.

“Well thanks I guess.” She grabbed some other ingredients and held them out to him. “Y’know, i’ve always kind of wondered what it would be like to wake up next to you..”

His eyes flicked to hers and a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Oh really?” He took the ingredients from her and set them down on the counter.

“Well not too often but just sometimes.” She shrugged as she grabbed more of the little vials.

“Like when?” He asked as he took those from her as well.

“Well….now..” She looked up at him and he raised his eyebrow at her. “Don’t give me that look!” She giggled as she hit his arm playfully. “Pansy has told me quite enough about you to make this all completely even.”

“She has!?” Draco’s eyes got wide and she laughed. “It’s okay Drac. I already knew.” She smirked up at him and he relaxed, a kind of half smile forming on his lips.

She sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder again. This time, it was on purpose. He felt butterflies in his stomach as he slowly and carefully wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer into him. “I’m willing to give it a shot if you are.” She looked up at him from hooded eyes and he gave her a genuine smile.

“I’m more than willing darling.” He planted a kiss on the top of her head and he could barely contain his smile.

Birthday Spider

Originally posted by septodragon

Peter Parker:

Warning: Little Fluff


Peter was walking to the Avengers tower after school because Friday had contacted him of a mission that the gang was going on tonight, himself included. Once he got in the building he noticed something strange, no one was at the front guarding the doors but he shrugged it off assuming that George and Hannah were on lunch so he took the elevator up to the penthouse portion of the building. When Peter stepped out he notice a particularly sweet smell, so he followed the smell that led him to the kitchen and what does he see?

The whole avengers clan baking different types of sweets but one thing was the same about them all, they were covered head to toe in flour Peter tried his hardest to hold his laughter but he couldn’t.

He bursted out laughing causing all the avengers to be in defensive mode until they noticed was Peter “Kid, what are you doing here?” Tony asked cleaning his hands from the dough he was kneading “Friday called me saying we had a meeting?” Peter said shrugging taking a seat on the barstool near the island “Yes, at night . Not now.” Tony said sighing holding his temple “So why are you all baking anyway?” Peter asked which caused all the avengers to take a strange look at him “No reason. Now go home kid.” Natasha said holding peter’s shoulder walking him to the elevator he simply nodded and pressed the lobby button but he didn’t go home.

He went for a walk in Bryant Park looking at the ice skating rink from the outside but something besides the rink caught his attention, she caught his attention and all she did was sit on the bench curled up in her book Peter wanted to do nothing more then walk over to her and spark a conversation but he didn’t know exactly how to do that so he didn’t say anything. Only problem is you felt him staring at you , you looked at his direction and smiled curling your hand to him which he picked up on and began to walk over to you “I didn’t mean to stare.” He said bluntly covering mouth as soon as the words came out which made you laughed a little.

“It’s fine, I didn’t tell you to come here to curse you out Parker.” You said which caused his eyes to nearly pop out of his socket “How did you know my name?” He asked moving a bit closer to you “I work with Dr. Banner as his apprentice, so I’ve seen with Mr. Stark on more than a handful of occasions so I know your name.” You said smiling “What? Apprentice ? Meaning you understand science and its laws and nature?” He said leaning toward you with a dorky smile on his face “Yes I know and understand all the good stuff, but my favorite is the science of cooking.”

You said causing both of you to laugh “Hey, speaking of cooking everyone was backing upstairs any ideas why?” He asked, you looked at him shocked how could he not remember his own birthday, maybe he was joking but his face was so serious so all you did was shake your head at his question. “We’ve been talking and laughing yet I didn’t even ask for your name or where you go to school.” Peter asked slightly slapping his forehead but you take his hand and settle it down on his lap “I’m (Y/N) and I’m home schooled.. Dr. Banner is my uncle and new guardian so he’s very protective of me.” You said shrugging looking at Peter making an “O” with his mouth. You felt your phone vibrate and when you went to look at it there was a text from your uncle saying to bring up Peter.

Your uncle knew that you had a huge crush on Peter from the day you saw him, and he would constantly tease you about him “Hey Peter can I show you something?” You asked taking his hand, he nodded and followed you tightening his grip on your hand you lead him through at different entrance to the Avengers building “Cover your eyes.” You said holding the bars of the door in your hands waiting for him to cover his eyes.

You opened the doors slowly then ran to move his hand directing him to the party and once he was completely inside you hear the roars of “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” shouts from the Avengers causing Peter to blush “You guys how’d you know it was my birthday?” he asked smiling “A little spider may have told us through a web.” Tony said winking in your direction which caused Peter to look at you “You planned all this (Y/N)?” he asked walking to you “Yeah, I overheard you tell Dr.Banner that you haven’t had the chance at having a big birthday party and even though it is the BIGGEST party I thought it would be better than nothing…” you said looking at your feet shrugging your shoulders and then you felt it.

Peter Parker had just kissed your cheek “Well it’s the best party I’ve ever gotten so thank you.” he said looking at you blushing “All right Parker, she’s still my niece so relax with these teenage feelings.” Bruce said causing everyone to laugh and just as you were about to walk to the kitchen Peter softly wrapped his arm around you and continued to talk to everyone and as the party went on you began to become more comfortable with the feeling of his warmth.

“So I guess you’re my little spider now huh?” he said whispering in your ear causing you to blush, you nodded slowly “Well, I thought I would be working alone but a beautifully deadly spider like you by my side I could never be defeated.” he said in your ear kissing your cheek once more.

The Daily Prophet - Draco Malfoy

Requested by anonymous.

Really, you had tried to be as careful as can be. Each “date” that you and Draco went on, was in absolute privacy. Your best friend was the only one you told, and that was because they followed you when they saw you acting suspicious. You knew that Draco wouldn’t have told anyone either. Your relationship was still pretty fresh, so keeping it down low was a priority.

So imagine your surprise when one morning, while sitting in the Great Hall, instead of your brother flopping down next to you, its a copy of the Daily Prophet, with your face on it. Of course, it wasn’t fair to say that it was just your face, as your face wasn’t really all that in it, and you weren’t the only one in it, either. A very candid shot of you and Draco snogging graced the cover. 

Looking up, you saw Harry staring at you in disbelief. You opened your mouth, trying to find the words to say. Instead, you looked back down at the article, of course, “artfully penned” by Rita Skeeter.


“Save it,” he said, storming off. You tried to follow him, but as you tried to stand, Fred and George moved on either side of you, eyeing the Prophet.

You studied the doors into the Great Hall, waiting for Draco to enter. However, he never showed up. You made your way towards your first class, Potions, and caught his flash of white-blonde hair. Deciding to ignore your class, you ran after him.

“Draco! Draco, wait up!” He finally turned around and a small smile grew on his face. You met up with him and put a hand on his arm. He pulled away and looked around nervously.

“What are you doing? What if someone sees us?” You sighed, realizing that he didn’t know about the paper, yet. “Don’t you have Potions right now?”

“Yes, but there’s something I need to talk to you about-”

“It can wait. Snape’s in a horrendous mood. Go,” he said, walking towards the stairs. For the second time that day, you found yourself speechless, and for the same man. Reluctantly, you made your way to potions, just a minute before Snape got in there, too. 

You had double potions that day, so by the time class was over, it was time for lunch. When you walked into the Great Hall, your eyes were immediately drawn to your brother. However, Harry didn’t notice as he was currently glaring at Malfoy from across the hall. Looking over at your boyfriend, you saw him staring him down, too. 

“Dammit, Harry,” you said, sliding in between he and Ron. “What are you doing?” He looked over at you, and his expression softened a bit more.

“What do you mean? I’m fine,” he said, in a way that almost certainly meant he wasn’t fine. 

“Can we at least talk about this?”

“What’s there to talk about?” he huffed.

“Harry, do you even care that Rita was following me? How do you think she got this photo? I didn’t just march down to her office and hand it to her.” He sighed, and you could see him start to calm a little.

“What do you want me to say?”

“Anything. I don’t like when you ignore me.” He smiled slightly and you relaxed, too. “I didn’t want to keep it a secret from you, Harry, but you know how you and Draco feel about each other.” He cringed a bit at the fact that you called him Draco and not Malfoy. 

“Why does it have to be him?” he asked. You laughed a little and shrugged.

“I don’t know, I didn’t want it to be him either.” 

“What if I set you up with one of the Weasley twins? I hear they’re a riot.”


“Or what about that Crabbe? He’s pretty fetching.”

“Harry!” He looked over at you and smiled. “I like Draco, and you can’t change that.” He sighed and nodded.

“I know.”

“So you’ll be nice to him.”

“Hell no,” Ron interjected, clearly eavesdropping on your conversation. You looked over at him and shot him a look. “Draco has treated Harry like shit all through school-”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t try, Ron,” Harry said, giving him the same look you gave him. Ron blushed and turned back to his soup. “I do mean it, Y/N. I’ll try to be at least tolerable to Malfoy.” You leaned over and kissed his cheek. 

“That’s all I ask.” You hopped out of your seat and walked towards Slytherin table. You sat down next to Draco, who looked paler than usual. You reached your hand under the table and took his hand in yours. By this time, everyone in school had already read the Prophet, and knew about your relationship. Draco smiled and looked down at your intertwined hands.

“What about Harry?” he asked, looking over towards Gryffindor table.

“He promised to try, as long as you do, too.” He sighed and you rolled your eyes.

“Come on. You got to like me, what’s so different about him?”

“He doesn’t have your eyes.” You snorted.

“No, actually, he does.” He glanced over at you with a frown.

“You know what I mean. He’s not you. He’s Potter.” 

“Draco, please. You knew that this would have to happen some day.”

“Yes, but I hoped it would be a day when we didn’t have to sit across from him everyday.”

“Hey, he is my brother.” He sighed.

“I know, I’m sorry. I’m just so mad about this Prophet thing. How did Rita Skeeter even get this picture of us?”

“I have no idea,” you said, leaning against his shoulder. At first, it felt awkward, sitting like that in full view of everyone else. However, it grew more natural as the seconds went on, and you knew it wouldn’t last like this forever. 

“I promise to be polite to Harry if he helps us find out how she got this picture.” You jumped up and grinned before leaning in to kiss him.

“Thank you, Draco.” He smiled and nodded, before looking back across the hall and seeing Harry staring at him again. He gulped and stopped smiling immediately, looking back down at his soup.

afirewiel  asked:

What is your favorite non-Austen period novel? Movie?

Okay I’m gonna do a rundown of all my favourites because making me pick one is just mean. (Also at one point in my notes on the following books and films I just wrote “Bagels” and I can’t for the life of me think what I might have meant or autocorrected that from. Maybe a shopping list started to take form. I don’t know.)

(If the film Miss Austen Regrets and book Longbourn by Jo Baker count as non-Austen then include them.)


Lagaan: Once Upon a Time in India - 2001 (Sports! High stakes! Sticking it to the Colonial Man!)

Mozart’s Sister - 2010 (Beautiful music! Gorgeous androgyny! GIRLS CAST TO PLAY THEIR ACTUAL AGE AND NOT SOME 20-SOMETHING PRETENDING TO BE FOURTEEN!)

Possession - 2002 (I’ve tried the novel, and A.S. Byatt has some beautiful prose but her structures sometimes do my head in, so never finished it. Ignore Paltrow as best you can and enjoy lush Victorian Gothic mystery and the ending is one of the most poignant things I’ve ever been pleasantly surprised with on film, and it leaves you wondering about many, many things…)

Jodhaa Akbar - 2008 (You could put Hrithik Roshan and Aishwarya Rai in the worst commercial ever made and I would watch it. Costumes, scenery, and, as a friend once put it “I’m not sure how they did it, but they just had a sex scene without any sex.” Bravo.)

Water - 2005 (Deepa Mehta is such a fantastic filmmaker and I loved this whole trilogy but Water is my favourite.)

Elizabeth - 1998 & Elizabeth: The Golden Age - 2007 (The costumes! The caMERA ANGLES!!! The compli-fucking-cated mess that is Elizabeth I.)

[Okay Tumblr won’t let me embed any more trailers, but those ones are easy to find, they’re out there.]

Vatel - 2000 (Any foodie who is also a fan of The Sun King and his era will dig this one. A great score, baddie Tim Roth.)

Alternatively, in the same era: A Little Chaos - 2015. Storyline is a little weak, but it’s so beautiful and the cast is great and the M U S I C. Kate Winslet. Alan Rickman. Helen McCrory. STANLEY TUCCI.)

Also: they’re not films, but TV shows - honourable mentions to the Spanish series Gran Hotel. It’s like a good version of Downton Abbey, only sorta on crack and with a tonne more murder mysteries; and while I have some Issues with its so-called hero and some comparatively weirdo plot-points in S3, overall, it’s fantastic and I’m obssessed. Please don’t mix it up with the Italian re-make which looks horrible in every way. Like, main actors dressed in a poorly-sewn-table-cloth-bad.

And shout-out to the new CBC/Netflix series Anne. I will defend this show to the DEATH, alright? They’ve gone bolder and fresher and have managed to involve period realism in a moving way while retaining the sunshine-and-pinafores element that so many people love about L.M. Montgomery’s work. There’s heaps of women with production credits, and I think it shows. Geraldine James is already my favourite Marilla after one episode, and I feel like R.H. Thompson (HEY JASPER DALE HEEEEY!) and Amybeth McNulty are likely going to become my favourite Matthew and Anne, too. People have complained about this series going off-book and in particular some have condemned it sight-unseen because the writers/directors are putting a feminist spin on it and OH GOD THEY SAID FEMINIST QUICK WE GOTTA SET EVERYTHING ON FIRE BECAUSE CHILDHOOD IS RUINED, but honestly it’s just perky and gorgeous and scrappy and nobody can tell me to my face that Kevin Sullivan didn’t go all the fucking way off-book from the very beginning so I am not gonna sit here and insist that the Megan Fallows Anne of Green Gables was perfection which could never be improved upon because that’s just a plain lie. It was nice and it has its place but it’s time for some new blood. (And NOT the telefilms they’ve also come out with recently with Martin Sheen, bless his heart, but they took a brunette child actor and dumped an atrociously stark box of red hair-dye on her before drawing on her freckles and then telling her to please play everything theatrically to the back of the house even though there is a camera ten inches from her face.) I am HERE FOR ANNE. RIDE OR DIE.


After that you might assume my L.M. Montgomery recommendation would be Anne of Green Gables and sure I won’t say DON’T read them, but for my money the Emily of New Moon trilogy is more my jam and I wish to God and Netflix in all my prayers that there might someday be a decent adaptation of them.

I was really into Cassandra Clark’s Abbess of Meaux mystery series for a time, but then things went a bit pear-shaped in what I think was the fourth(?) book and everything was OOC and honestly I haven’t caught up on the later books after that and they seem to be self-published now but I am a sucker for nuns and mysteries so I’ll probably get back into it when I have time.

The Princess Priscilla’s Fortnight and The Solitary Summer by Elizabeth von Arnim. Vacation-reads! Beautiful prose, some wry wit, and fun hijinks. If you’ve ever wanted to run away and live in an isolated cottage in the wilderness for a little while, these are for you. [ETA: I recently got my hands on a copy of The Jasmine Farm so THANK YOU to one of you who recommended it I am loving it so far only I don’t see the appeal in Andrew so wtf Terry you can do better.]

Edward Rutherfurd’s geographical history novels–Sarum is the classic to start with, but the others I’ve read are very good, too. (London, New York, and I’m now working my way through a first-edition of Russka.)

Amy Levy. A M Y   L E V Y. Criminally under-recognized Jewish Victorian novelist and poet. Novellas Ruben Sachs and The Romance of a Shop. (RS a beautiful and bittersweet story about the conflicts between love, identity, and expectations, and some would say a response to George Eliot’s Daniel Deronda. TRoaS reading a bit like a less treacle-sweet variation on Little Women, where four sisters try to make their way in the world by setting up their own photography studio in late 19th century London.)

The Making of a Marchioness by Frances Hodgkin Burnett. Colonialist racism appears in this one, so be warned. Still the book is a THOUSAND times better than the utterly dreadful adaptation known as The Making of a Lady. Jane is better, Emily is better, Walderhurst is better, pretty much EVERYONE IS BETTER. The pacing is better. The plotting and suspense make actual sense.

The Scarlet Pimpernel by Baroness Orczy. A classic, and the grand-daddy of every secret-identity superhero.

The Forsyte Saga by John Galsworthy. Like, it makes me MAD how good these books are.

And last but not least, a non-fiction selection in Vere Hodgson’s WWII diaries: Few Eggs and No Oranges. Nothing else has ever brought the experience of living (or trying to) under the shadow of the bombs and the threat of invasion quite like these diaries. Fascinating details, engagingly written, and at times a stark reminder that the Allied victory we take for granted in our history could by no means be counted on by the millions who dwelt in daily uncertainty.

fynneyseas  asked:

Suzanne??? Taught Bitty to bake? What kind of baked goods did Suzanne woo George with. We could nod to canon here and go with muffins and cookies, because that looks like what Bitty baked for the thank you baskets. Best way to the heart is through the stomach and all that jazz.


When someone showed up at her apartment with a Devil’s Food cake in a glass dome George’s first thought was What kind of Betty Crocker bullshit is this. Her girlfriend, meanwhile, just thanked the newcomer and told her to put the cake on the kitchen table. She explained offhandedly to George that Suzanne was in her Statistics lecture, and a fan of figure skating.

The cake was a hit, in a low-key way. Everyone in the apartment was pretty focused on the television and the Olympic Games. The cake, in the midst of bowls of potato chips and pretzels, shrimp rings and packaged dips, was uniquely homemade and good-tasting; the first person to come back to the couch with cake on their paper plate caused two others to ask where it had come from and go get their own slices, which extrapolated into a general stampede to polish off the tray before there was none left.

It was good cake.  Suzanne Phelps kept her eyes on the TV through it all and disclaimed praise very primly, but something about her mouth struck George as a little smug.


“Package from Suzie,” Lynnette said confusedly, then dumped her bag in the hallway and went off to shower.

George eked past Lynnette’s bag to dump her own gear in the living room, then stripped down to sweatpants and bra and said hello to the dog before picking up the box sitting on top of their accumulated mail.

God, she hoped it wasn’t a late good-luck package. She liked Suzie just fine, and in a couple of days she’d be less raw about losing the World Championship–again–but right now she’d cheerfully throw a Fabergé egg onto pavement if it had Go for Gold! on it.

Better luck next time, Suzie Bittle’s note said, and beneath it slid a freezer bag full of double-chocolate macadamia cookies. The smiley face on the note somehow managed to convey disappointment and reluctance, like it was a little hard for it to smile right then, and George mirrored it as she opened the bag of her favourite cookies.


“Nope nope nope nope,” George muttered, finally closing her arms around a sprinting toddler and plucking him off the ground. “You are not bugging your mom.” She hugged Eric to her chest and was about to take him back to the bedroom when Suzanne called, “What’s he doing, then?”

Rearranging Eric on her hip, George went back to the kitchen doorway. “I turn my back for one minute,” she said, “and he decides he’s gonna bust in on your Zen time.”

“Oh, he’s fine,” Suzanne said, smiling. The kitchen was transformed from an hour and a half ago; the dishes were gone, the countertops shining, and something delicious-smelling was at work in the oven. The remnants of a glass of white wine stood next to Suzanne’s current project, which looked… involved. Her hands never stopped moving.

“What’s this?” George asked, coming closer but making sure not even an extreme lunge on Eric’s part could put him in range of the hot stovetop.

“Dessert crêpes,” Suzanne said, ladling batter into a skillet and then tilting it to make sure it covered the entire surface.  “Gonna be berries and peaches in a kind of beurre Suzette, with chocolate sauce to garnish.”  Each of these needed its own separate stir, before she starting poking under the crêpe’s edges and prepare for it to flip.

“Crêpe Suzanne,” George said, and her lover smiled at her.

With great care not to disrupt Suzanne’s system, George took a teaspoon out of the cutlery drawer one-handed, and then positioned herself so that Eric was as far from the stove as possible while she stole some of the chocolate sauce. Suzanne made a show of protest, but didn’t intervene. George kept the spoon out of Eric’s reach while she blew on it, then tasted; considered that it didn’t seem to have too much liqueur, sucked the spoon clean, and dipped it in the sauce a careful fraction before blowing on it and handing it over to the baby.

“Geo-gia,” Suzanne said, fondly exasperated. Then, because she’d just put a finished crêpe on the pile and hadn’t poured a new one on the skillet, George took her opportunity to lean down for a kiss. Because it was still so wonderful and so new that it was more thrilling than anything else put together, just to be able to kiss Suzanne because she wanted to.

Suzanne kissed her, but also put her hand flat on George’s chest to warn here that there was kitchen business going on that shouldn’t be forgotten about.

“Tastes great,” George said brightly, and looked down at Eric, who had a trail of chocolate on his face and the spoon in his mouth. “We love it.  Call us when dinner is ready?”

“Yes,” Suzanne said, and, “Scat,” and George resettled the baby on her hip and left the kitchen, humming.

Neighbours: Part Five - Tommy Shelby

The Party

Part One | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six |

As we pull up I find the party already in full swing; jaunty music emanates from a band I can’t see, filling the air with catchy tunes as waves of people mill around the gardens. It’s neither of these that attracts my attention first though, but a full fairground set up and lit to high heavens; a merry-go-round, swings and swing boats, separated by various stands and stalls engulfs the entirety of the Shelby property that I can see from the drive.

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Home - Fred Weasley Imagine

A/N: yaaay! I’m back baby! haha so sorry for the delay but here it is :D


  • Anonymous said: Are you planning to do a part two to the A Right To Be Wrong? Maybe something where Fred tells Molly the whole story and she basically takes the reader in as one of her own children? I think that would be awesome! 
  • Anonymous said: Ok, I know requests are closed, but can you have this ask till they are open again? Please your writings are the best ones I’ve ever read, can you do something like the one you’ve write (Draco’s Girl) but with Fred? But a little bit different, idk, my heart, soul and body needs this, you can change what you want, but pleeeeease I need this

so, I tried my best and here it is! kind of a sequel to Right to Be Wrong but can also stand on its own :D a quick thanks to @rachel-lizzie-dare and @gold-moonlight for their help! you guys are amazing! :D 

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter

Your name: submit What is this?


“But what if they hate me?”

“Love, trust me, they wouldn’t hate you” Fred said bringing his girlfriend closer to him and kissing her forehead.

“I’m a Malfoy, Fred” she said worriedly. It had been almost two months since the Malfoy family had disowned (Y/N) for dating Fred Weasley and standing up for herself. She was going to spend the Christmas break at Hogwarts but of course, there was not a chance that her boyfriend was going to let her spend Christmas alone. So she was going to spend it at the famous Burrow. “And even my own family hates me.”

“First of all, you’re nothing like the rest of your family and that’s why they don’t like you” George assured her. “And besides, Ron, Ginny and I already think you’re great so basically you have half of the family covered” he said shrugging his shoulders.

“That’s not true! There are five left” she pointed out. “And Percy already doesn’t like me!”

“Percy doesn’t count” the twins said at the same time. “He’s not even coming home for Christmas. And I’ve already told Bill and Charlie everything about you. I’m sure they’re going to love you” Fred added.

“Yeah, and dad likes pretty much everyone” George assured her. “So that only leaves mum” he said with a smile making the girl even more nervous.

“Great” she said trying to smile.

She knew all about Molly Weasley and she had always wanted to meet her. She sounded like the perfect mother and she knew how much all of her children, and Harry and Hermione, loved her. So it was only natural that she would be terrified to meet the woman.

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The sum of every song in Hamilton
  • Alexander Hamilton: it me, ya boy ham
  • Aaron Burr, Sir pt. 1: hey Burr, we're both orphans and I'm really smart and I want to graduate college in 2.6 seconds like you
  • Aaron Burr, Sir pt. 2:
  • My shot:
  • The story of tonight: were about to go to war but we have freedom and it's going to be great
  • The Schuyler sisters:
  • ANGELICAAAA (work work) ELiZZA and leggy
  • Farmer refuted:
  • Our boy ham straight up flames our British pal Sammy boy
  • You'll be back: meanwhile
  • , King George III is in Britain and is lying to himself
  • Right hand man:
  • Burr: hey hi hello I exist
  • George washing-machine:
  • Alexandre: general washingmachine you called for me
  • Burr: -,-
  • George washingmachine: HAM YOU'RE HERE BE MY SECRETARY
  • Ham: what no thanks
  • Washingmachine: pls
  • Ham: ok fine
  • A winters ball:
  • The boys: WE ALL LIKE GIRLS
  • Laurens: ,:)
  • Helpless:
  • Ham: hey marry me
  • Eliza: :)ok:)
  • Satisfied:
  • *flashback*
  • Angelica: I like alexandre
  • Eliza: I like alexandre
  • Angelica: oh okay *throws herself out of the window*
  • The story of tonight *reprise*: our boys ham, laurens, Hercules mulligan and Lafayette are really drunk
  • Wait for it: Burr is in politics but has no political opinion and nobody exactly knows what he's waiting for
  • Stay Alive:
  • A ham: daaad commme ooooon let me fiight
  • George washingmachine: ehhhhhhh I don't knooow let's send in lee
  • Charles Lee: IM A GENERAL WHEEEE
  • George washingmachine: that was a mistake
  • Ten duel commandments: Lauren's wants to duel lee because he was being salty towards our favorite dad, George washing machine, and they do and Lee gets shot
  • Meet him inside
  • George washingmachine: wtf ham
  • Alexandre: lee started it
  • George washingmachine: son stop
  • A ham: I AM NOT YOUr SON
  • George washingmachine: go home
  • That would be enough:
  • Alex: Eliza I'm poor
  • Eliza: I know idc lol
  • Alex: :)
  • Guns and ships:
  • General washingmachine: hey alexandre pls come back
  • History has its eyes on you:
  • George washingmachine: hey son, if you make any mistakes everyone in the future will probably only focus on that
  • Yorktown:
  • The colonies: HEY WE WON THE WAR
  • What comes next:
  • King George III: haha good luck running a country lol see ya
  • Dear Theodosia:
  • Burr: I had a baby girl she's cute and her name is theodosia
  • Non-Stop:
  • Burr: Alexandre why can't you shut up
  • Alexandre: Kay I will
  • *later*
  • Alexandre: look I wrote 51 essays in 2 seconds to defend the US constitution
  • Burr: WHAT
  • What'd I miss:
  • Thomas Jefferson: hey I'm back from France
  • Hamilton: who r u
  • Cabinet battle #1:
  • Thomas Jefferson: your financial plan is dumb
  • Ham: ur dumb I don't agree
  • Washingmachine: Alexandre calm down
  • Thomas Jefferson & James
  • Madison: no1 likes you
  • Washingmachine: they right you need to calm down
  • Take a break:
  • Eliza & Angelica: stop writing for once and leave with us to go somewhere
  • Ham: no
  • Eliza &angelica: wow fuk u 2 then
  • Say no to this:
  • Mariah Reynolds: my husbands abusive please have an affair w/ me
  • Everyone: NO DONT DO IT
  • Ham: I guess I have no choice okay I will
  • *later*
  • James Reynolds: ur having an affair with my wife give me money
  • Ham: k here u go
  • The room where it happens:
  • Ham: I'm having a meeting with James and Thomas
  • Burr: wat
  • Ham: we're deciding where the capital is
  • Burr: hey I wanna go
  • Ham: no
  • Schuyler defeated: burr is now senator instead of hamiltons father in law and ham is salty abt it
  • Cabinet battle #2:
  • Jefferson: lets help France with their war
  • Ham: wat no not another war
  • Washingmachine: he's right
  • Thomas: wtf of course you take his side
  • Washington on your side:
  • Jefferson: I don't like Alexandre
  • Madison: he wouldn't be so high up w/ out Washington
  • Jefferson: lets ruin his career
  • One last time:
  • Washingmachine: oops I'm not president anymore
  • Alexandre: dad no
  • Washingmachine: byyyyye
  • I know him:
  • King George III: what john Adams is the president now lol good luck
  • The Adams administration:
  • We know:
  • Madison, burr &Jefferson: you took government funds ur career is over
  • Ham: lol no I just cheated on my wife
  • Hurricane:
  • Ham: I've fought everyone, except for myself
  • Ham: I guess I'll change that
  • The Reynolds pamphlet:
  • Alexandre: Time to publish the details of my affair before anyone else for some reason and ruin my marriage
  • Everyone: wtf
  • Burn:
  • Eliza: hey wtf Alexandre ur the worst
  • Blow us all the way:
  • Philip: I'm really smart and I just graduated
  • Philip: hey wait George Eacker just said somthin mean abt my dad alexandre
  • Philip: hey Eacker lets duel
  • George: what okay
  • *later*
  • Philip: *aims gun at sky hoping that Eacker won't shoot and no one will die*
  • Hey this looks the the perfect opportunity to not shoot
  • Eacker: how bout I do AnYWAy
  • Stay alive:
  • Philip: oh no I'm dying
  • Alexandre: no pls
  • Eliza: WAIT WHAT
  • Philip: mom I'm dying
  • Eliza: wat no
  • Philip: oops I did
  • It's quite uptown:
  • Alexandre: hey our son is dead and I'm sorry
  • Eliza: I accept your apology
  • Eliza&ham: ;-;
  • The election of 1800:
  • Madison: hey burr is probably going to win the election
  • Jefferson: what no
  • Madison: if Alexandre likes you over burr you could win
  • Burr: wow everyone likes me
  • *later*
  • It's a tie
  • Everyone: Alexandre
  • Everyone: Jefferson or Burr
  • Ham: Jefferson
  • Burr: what
  • Oh look Jefferson is president now
  • Your obedient servant:
  • Burr: ham you cause all my problems
  • Ham: that sounds like a YOU problem
  • Burr: duel me
  • Ham: k
  • Best of wives, best of women:
  • Eliza: y r u up
  • Ham: I have a meeting
  • Eliza: Kay
  • Eliza: u better not be having an affair
  • The world was wide enough:
  • Burr: oops I killed ham I didn't mean too
  • Who lives, who dies who tells, who tells your story:
  • Everyone: :( Alexandre died
  • Eliza: I'm going to tell his story :)
Passive-Aggressive Partnership

@coveofmemoriesPart 1 / Part 2

Part 3


Spencer walked out to the car, ready to return to the team with the new-yet-old information; the latest victim had suffered the same abuse as the other two. After a short drive back to the Bureau, he parlayed the information he’d learned to the rest of the team. “The first victim was probably killed with the butt of the broken vase we found at the crime scene. As for the other two victims, I think we’ll probably find a trophy of some kind in a dumpster near the crime scenes. The measurements Y/N took of their blunt force injuries show that a trophy with a squared-off base is the most likely candidate for our murder weapon.” For a split second, Garcia beeped into the room, claiming she had found a connection between the three victims. 

“The kind of rage that this unsub had starting with the first victim doesn’t just come out of nowhere,” Hotch started, looking down the hallway as Garcia teetered in on her impossibly-high heels. “When we find him, we’ll undoubtedly uncover other complaints that no one took seriously.”

“As always you are correct, my liege,” Garcia said. “I found a link between the three victims. All three had been frequenting a local career center after being laid off. I used the basics of the profile to narrow down employees, and as I suspected, they were all helped by George Van Der Vennan. If the crime scenes weren’t so unbelievably brutal, I might actually feel bad for him, but I can’t because he’s a horrible human being. I just don’t understand why people do the things they do. I mean…”

“Penelope,” Hotch said sternly.

“Right, sir. Sorry. Anyway, Van Der Vennan is 41 years old and currently lives with his 67-year-old aunt Betty. He was raised by a single mother, Betty’s younger sister Margaret, who had George at the age of 18; she’s since overdosed on heroin. In order to make ends meet, she worked part-time as a cashier and part-time as a hairdresser, which was my first indication because Y/N said that the weapon used for the sexual assault was likely a curling iron, right?” she asked, turning toward Spencer. With his confirmation, she continued. “CPS was called on more than one occasion because the neighbors claimed they could hear screaming, but every time they arrived, George would say that there was nothing wrong and the authorities would leave. The nail in the proverbial coffin? I looked up a picture of his mother and she has a very distinctive nose. If the blunt force is to their noses, it makes sense that his own mother has a peculiar-looking nose…right?”

Morgan put his arm around Garcia’s shoulder, pulling her into his embrace so he could kiss her on the head. “That’s our guy. You have an address?”

“Do I? Do I have an address?” she asked, her blonde hair bouncing as she feigned hurt. “Of course I do.” After handing Morgan the address, the team was out the door in flash. Hopefully, Van Der Vennan hadn’t already picked out his next victim. 


“George Van Der Vennan,” Morgan screamed as he knocked on the door, his gun cocked and ready to shoot. “Open up!” Instead of a gentleman around his age, an elderly woman, presumably his aunt, opened up, claiming that her nephew was down in the basement. 

“What did he do?” she asked meekly as the rest of the team shuffled in behind Morgan and started down the stairs to the unsub. She really had no clue. It was amazing how family could be so oblivious to the troubles of their loved ones. Undoubtedly, she was aware of the abuse he’d suffered at the hands of her sister, but judging by the look in her eyes, she had no inkling that he was up to anything sinister. 

As the last one down the stairs, Spencer watched, gun at the ready as Morgan called for him to stand up. Van Der Vennan glanced quickly at the basement window, probably wondering if he should try and make a break for it, but with six federal agents training their weapons on him, he had no chance, and he knew it. When he turned around, Morgan crossed the room, handcuffing his arms tightly behind his back.

After so many years with the Bureau, Spencer unfortunately knew what made these unsays tick, but on occasion, their savagery still took him by surprise. Morgan made his way up the stairs with Van Der Vennan, but he stopped himself dead in the center of the staircase, turning to read with the deadest of eyes. “She had to pay.”

“They weren’t your mother,” he said, knowing what the deranged man meant; he hated that he knew without clarification. “They were innocent young women that came to you for help.”

“Well they made a mistake then, didn’t they?” he said calmly, with the slightest smirk of knowing that betrayed his attempt at an insanity plea.

Spencer shoved him in the back up the rest of the stairs, swallowing hard as he went down to where the man lived. Morgan, Rossi and JJ went up with the unsub to handle things on that end, while Spencer, Emily and Hotch stayed downstairs to look for the assault weapon. 

The hiding space he’d kept it in was almost cliched. Conspicuously hidden in a box under the bed was an older model curling iron. From the looks of it, it hadn’t been used for its intended purpose for years. Hotch held out an evidence bag as Spencer dumped the iron wand into it, handing it off to JJ so that she could close it. “Mrs. Van Der Vennan?” JJ asked once they returned upstairs. “Do you recognize this?”

At the sight of the wand, the woman started to cry. “That was my sister’s favorite curling iron she used at work,” she croaked. “It was the one she used to hit him with. I couldn’t do anything to help him. I’m so sorry.”

“This is not your fault,” JJ said, placing her hand on her shoulder.

After handing over the evidence and the unsub to the local authorities, the team headed back to the Bureau to finish up their paperwork for the night. It turned out the only one who actually stayed was Hotch. Everyone else was too tired, sleepily walking out of the bullpen thankful that they’d stopped Van Der Vennan before he had a chance to hurt anyone else.


The case was over.

The adult in Spencer wanted to go and talk to Y/N - ask her what happened and what it meant - if anything.

The child in him however wanted to avoid all awkwardness, go home, go to bed, and forget this ever happened. 

But the adult won out. Before driving toward her office, he texted her to see if she was still there. Thank god she was, because he just wanted to get this awkwardness over it and either do something about it or forget it entirely. “Hello Y/N,” he said, opening the door to the dimly lit room. Apparently, she was also finishing up paperwork for the case.

When she looked up, something had changed. The eyes that had looked so hard in the past looked softer now, but he honestly wasn’t sure if that was because his brain was looking for something or because there actually was a change in her. “You caught him, right?”

“Yea, thankfully,” he stuttered. “When we looked in his basement we found the name of his new clients, so he was definitely not going to stop.”

“The nature of the business, I guess,” she said, taking a deep breath and stilling the pen on the paper. He could see she was tired, whether it was just tonight or the job in general he wasn’t quite sure. He was about to bring things up, when she saved him the trouble. “What exactly happened the other day?”

Spencer opened his mouth to speak, but at first nothing came out. “I don’t know. I was pretty sure we hated each other. But that night, it sure didn’t feel like it.”

“Me too,” she chuckled, putting her paperwork in a lockable drawer for the night. “I can’t take anymore tonight. I need to go home. Another question. Do you regret what happened?”

“No,” he said honestly and without thought. When he stopped to think about, he realized he didn’t. Maybe they clashed so much because they were more alike than they wanted to admit. “No, I don’t. Do you?”

Reaching behind him toward the coat hook, she grabbed her peacoat and hung up the clinical lab coat. “No. In addition to your big brain and hot bod, you’re a good kisser. But I am wary about taking this any further. Given that we work together, I mean.”

“You know a recent study has shown that nearly 15 percent of people meet their long-term significant others at work,” he said without thinking. Of course he would know that. “And you think I’m hot?”

She laughed as they walked outside into the cool night air. As she tugged her coat tighter around her body, she said it again. “Of course I think you’re hot. Who doesn’t?”


“You don’t see the way people look at you, Dr. Reid,” she replied. “Let’s try this. Kiss me again. If we both feel the way we did the other day, we’ll try a date. If not, we won’t.”

They stepped next to her car and he opened the door, bringing his hand to the right side of her face and leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips. Much more tender than the other night. A sigh escaped her as their lips met and in response her hand snaked its way around his waist. “Tomorrow night?” she whispered after breaking the kiss. 

“I’ll probably be in the office late tomorrow night,” he said regretfully. “But the night after?”

“Difficult as always, Dr. Reid.”

“S- Spencer,” he stammered. “Please, call me Spencer.”

“Difficult as always, Spencer,” she said with a smile. “I’ll see you then.”

To the Four of Us (Part Twenty Eight)

premise: modern AU chronicling the squad as they make their way through college and deal with general life things.
words: 2,723
warnings: mentions of drug use, mentions of death, swearing
all chapters: x
tags: @heythereitsloey @anitheunicorn @newyorkyoucanbeanew @lafbagxette @justafangirlwithanavy @iamgrayfox @ordinaryornate @schuylerjoon @georgewashingsin @trashyperson101 @crazydragon15 @but-if-you-had-to-choose @geespilots @marvelous-hamilfan @mynameisalexanderhammyham @panda-powers @lafeyettegunsandships @schokoobananaa @aphboi @hell-yes-puns-and-ships @aham-threw-his-shot-away @hesitantcat @nonstopspook @hamrevolution @alexander-did-you-know @spitaverse-burr @angelizaandpeggy @isis278 @idk-destiel @engulfedinstars @hamiltrashuniverse @ahrupe @just-me-an-asshole @readfizz @skeletonmelodies @gum-and-chips @iminwaytoomanyfandoms @hadleyelizabethuley @fictionalboyfriends @ridiculousn3ssfangirl @pleuxvoir @liallow @kanadianwithashippingproblem @bucket-of-kittens @welcometohamilton @forth-schuyler-sister @fanwaffles @ariadne1004 @inspacewmorty @marshmallow-satan @anbu1997 @sinmineral@esmeraldablazingsky@fictonalboyfriends @i-am-forever–bored @imdiggingdaveed

*pls read!!!!!* a/n: ok so some of you may have missed The Discourse™ last night but TTFOU will be ending on chapter 30 (aka there are two more chapters after tonight, chapter 30 being the epilogue). I feel like it’s run its course and I don’t want to continue it just for the sake of continuing it so I’m at a good place to write the ending and I’m happy with it :-))))) ok pls enjoy !!!! BYE

Hercules and Lafayette sat across the dining hall from Alexander and John, who were talking loudly and laughing at something one of them said. They waved their friends over, but Herc and Laf just smiled and stayed where they were.

“They need to talk,” Hercules muttered.

Lafayette was beaming across the room, revelling in their laughter.

“Why?” he asked through a grin. “Look at how happy they finally are! Let them be, Herc.”

“It won’t last.” Hercules couldn’t help but be skeptical. Alexander and John had gotten back together the previous night and neither he nor Lafayette had any idea what’d changed between them. “They need to deal with their shit.”

“Or,” Lafayette sang, taking a bite of his potato. “They could leave their shit in the past and move on. Like they clearly have.”

“Laf.” Hercules turned to his boyfriend and stared him dead in the eye. “You remember what happened at the funeral. There’s no way they both just got over that. Like I said. They. Need. To. Talk.”

Lafayette rolled his eyes and looked at Hercules. “Let them live.”

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Fool(s) In Love|| Nick Clark

Originally posted by karanna1

Requested by Anon

Prompt: Can you write an imagine where the reader is Nicks best friend but is secretly in love with him but he’s with Luciana. Madison knows that Y/N is in love with him and tells him and he realizes he’s in love with her also!! 


y/a - your age 

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“Brisé, pourtant vivant” Part II S.B

A/N: Part II! I know, I know… it’s not very exciting but! there are plenty more to come… if you want! As always, I would love to receive any kind of feedback. 
 Adelaide Kane as Rose(in my mind) 
[Warnings: My poor English, as always. Triggering thoughts(sorry about that) and swearing. (Age gap?) Let me know if I missed something]
{Friendly Reminder: Requests are open!}

Part I  

   I climbed the stairs trying to get to the attic so I could sneak out of the window and into the roof. As I have done many times. But, emphasis on the trying.
“Rose!”, a voice gasped out. I took one look at her and understood that she wanted to know where Harry was.
“Hello Hermione”, I greeted her. She was such a great witch, but she was always so tensed.
“Do you know when Harry will be arriving?” she asked worryingly. I offered her a reassuring smile.
“Soon. Don’t worry Mione. He is going to be okay”, I told her and all I could do was wish for all of us to be okay. She smiled back and nodded, returning to her room… And I hurried through the rest of the floors until I reached the door that led to my freedom. Momentarily free. How bittersweet.
   I snuck inside and closed the door behind me. I crept out of the window and sat down near it, but hidden behind it as well. That was all I would ever be. Hidden away in the dark of an old place, never truly belonging anywhere. Not even to my own self. Alone.
   I have tried to convince myself that I was okay with being alone. That it didn’t matter. That I didn’t need someone in my life. That I could do this by myself; I didn’t need to be saved; I was fine.
   How many lies? How many times did I have to repeat them, in order to finally believe them?
   I took a deep breath. How was I going to survive another year? Another day?!
Nothing in my life seemed to be okay. My “parents” were the very people I had to fight. There was a war coming up and everyone knew it. Well, everyone who could think, that is. So how was I supposed to face them on the battlefield? How was I supposed to-
  They weren’t nice. They weren’t family material. They had used all of the curses and even some more on me… so many times that I had lost count. They hated me. They disowned me, for Merlin’s sake. The house itself never-not once-felt like home. I was forced to do things, learn languages, master the piano and dance like a professional at those fake balls. I was forced out of everything a child deserves.
   I still remember how they would react when even the slightest mistake was made. They expected nothing less than the cold perfection. However, the worst was yet to come. I was a pureblood. A royal pureblood. Every time someone said they were jealous of that very fact, I would really wish to just trade places. Because who would want their head to be on the line? Who would want all that cruelty and all that misery? The guilt that keeps you up at night due to the things your “family” had done? The loneliness that creeps into your heart and never leaves?    
   I had to create a façade… But, unfortunately, that façade never lasted very long. Once I was left alone…the pain would be waiting for me.
    I first tried to kill myself when I had just turned eleven years old. Eleven. And to this day I remember everything. How easy was for me to push myself inside that bathtub and keep my head under the water. How easy it was to ignore the burning feeling that was building up in my lungs as my body was screaming, with the urge to survive, to my mind, which had shut down and wanted to let go. As though I was born with the capacity to self-destruct.
   I said it was an accident. I lied and denied everything so casually that for a second I was truly grateful for that fake façade.
   I was built with an addictive personality. I could not deny that. I liked pretty little-well hidden-white lines and smoking cigarettes. I couldn’t give it up. Maybe I didn’t want to.
   I was decomposing. I was burning out.
   I looked at the sky, wondering…was there someone else looking at it too?  Were we looking for the same things? What did they see? Were they mesmerized or were they trying so hard not to feel alone? And failing? Miserably…
   I had come up here to smoke, but I was already numb. After, what felt to be, hours, I climbed down and got inside.
   Harry was here. His voice was loud enough to be heard across the country. I didn’t want to deal with this. However, it seemed rather inevitable. I plastered a fake smile on my face and walked towards the group.
“More issues than Vogue, Harry” I said in a playful tone. He stopped yelling for a second and cracked a smile.
“Hey, Rose. Sorry for being so loud” he answered sheepishly. I smiled and shrugged it off.
“What is Vogue?” Fred asked all of the sudden. He looked puzzled. Like he was actually trying to find out on his own. Hermione snorted and started laughing. I gave him a funny look.
“Muggle stuff, ginger” I nonchalantly answered, wiggling my eyebrows once.
“So, do you know what are they talking about?” Harry interrupted before Fred could say anything. Or worse. Come up with a cheesy pickup line, as always.
“Not really”. Well, that was not entirely a lie. Okay, maybe it was. I did know about the prophecy. But that was not my secret to tell. Or my call to make.
“Maybe we should get in there” Ron said in a haze. My eyebrows shot up into heavens.
“Maybe you do want to be killed by your mother after all” I said sarcastically. The tips of his ears went pink and a blush crept to his cheeks.
    After a few brief moments, they started talking about Percy and how he had gotten the promotion that he so desired. It was rather strange, really. Fudge must be a complete idiot. Why would anyone doubt that Voldemort is back? Hasn’t he saw that the Dementors were out of the ministry’s control? That Deatheaters were roaming the streets? How many more deaths before he could realize that we were in danger?
   Hermione tried to explain what had happened and why people wouldn’t believe that he was back. It was true that the Daily Prophet was indeed against Harry. Like on a personal level. It was a mockery. Who would want to become famous because somebody murdered their parents and failed to kill them too? I mean, it was sickening to describe Harry, or anyone for that matter, like that. Not all people were attention seekers. Harry was definitely not.
“…you really shouldn’t be, not if they abide by their own laws, there’s no
case against you ” Hermione trailed off, referring to the disciplinary board Harry was facing.
“People don’t want to believe you because they still remember what happened last time, Harry. I do not condone it, but I get it. Imagine having lost family members and friends… loved ones, the last time Voldemort was on the rise. How easy would be for you to accept the fact that he was never truly gone?” I tried to reason. And it was probably true. I mean, after all this time and the assurances, who would want to-
   Harry didn’t get to answer because Molly had walked on us. Fred was trying to hide his expendable ear, George was too busy pretending to look innocent and Ginny was trying to hide her hands. Dungbombs. I smiled faintly.
“Dinner is ready. Come on Harry everyone is eager to see you. Oh, Rose… Tonks wants to talk to you” Molly said. She went on but I had already left the room and was heading toward the kitchen.
But before I could manage that, I saw Dora knocking over the troll-leg umbrella stand with a crash. A really loud crash.
  “Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness! Half-breeds, mutants, freaks, begone from this place! How dare you befoul the house of my fathers-”. I glared daggers at Dora. She kept apologizing and Walburga wouldn’t shut it.
“Shut up. SHUT UP”, Sirius yelled at her. And just like that… welcome headache! Sirius yelling at her wasn’t the best idea, judging by the fact that she started spitting insults even louder. It took almost twice the strength to pull the curtains down. If she wasn’t dead alright, I would have murdered her.
  “Hello, Harry, I see you’ve met my mother" Sirius said grimly as he looked over at his godson. That was my cue. I grabbed Dora’s arm and dragged her all the way to the kitchen before anyone else could follow. That earned me a confused glance from Remus.
  “So, besides being clumsy, what else do you want to tell me?” I asked her as we sat down next to each other.
“Oh, hello there Rose”. I looked up and gave a sweet smile to Bill and Arthur.
“Hi, Bill. Mr. Weasley. How are you? Need any help?” I said gesturing at the papers he was trying to fold.
“Yours, yes. Dora’s… no Merlin, no” he laughed as a grin made its way into my face. His words though made Dora turn abruptly to fire something back but… she knocked a candle down. And a scroll was covered in wax. I laughed at Bill’s expression.
“Oh no. I am sorry. I-”. She looked sorry. But I couldn’t help it; a giggle left my mouth and she glared at me.
“It’s okay dear” Molly said clearly tired of all the accidents that had occurred.
“Just sit down, trouble. And do tell what’s up” I light-heartily told her while the others tried to clean up the mess.
“Okay, don’t get me wrong, but I need to ask you something. Rose, do you li-”. But let me thank Merlin one more time. Molly was preparing the table for the dinner. And it was kind of chaotic. Fred and George happened. I just stood there, doing nothing, thinking about everything.

Part III
Part IV
Part V (smut)

“We’ll Be Waiting”  ~  George x reader

“Hey best blog in the world!👋🏼 i was wondering if you could do an imagine with George where they are a couple and the twins wanted to pull a little prank on her so when she kissed him, George acted like if he was Fred and the reader begins to panick and cry but he finally tells her it was a prank and its actually him. Idk if you understand what i mean its quite complicated…😂 but thanks in advance!!!💕” ~Anon

Aww! Thank you! You are so sweet!! I loved the request!! It was so fun to write! I’m so sorry it took my forever! I’ve had so many requests to do, and I’ve been so busy with other things that I just had to slow myself down. I’m also sorry that it’s a bit shorter than my usual imagines, but I hope you enjoy!😘💕😊


Y/n walked down the sunlit corridors. She was heading to the library to find some information for her History essay. As she turned the corner, she heard the familiar voice of her boyfriend.

“Hey, you!” George flirted. He wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace. “Where’ve you been?”

She hugged him back with a smile. “Outside.” she replied. “I was trying to work on this essay, but I have no idea what I’m supposed to do.”

“Come on.  I’ll help you.”

George took her hand and led her to the Gryffindor common room. For once, it was empty. Y/n was surprised. They took a seat beside each other on the sofa, and y/n got out her essay.

“So,” he began. “What’s your topic?”

“The Hogwarts’ founders.”

He chuckled. “That’s an easy one. Just write about how they formed together to make a school, and then split because Slytherin had a different view of how things should have been run.”

She sighed with a smile. “I was already going to do that.”

“Don’t forget to add how he put a basilisk in the school, causing mortal danger to everyone.”

Y/n rolled her eyes with a giggle. “Alright.” She took out her quill and ink and began writing. By the time she finished her third sentence, George was growing antsy.

“Y/n!” he whined.

She set her quill and parchment on the table. “What?”

“I’m bored…”

“Are you now?”

He nodded childishly. “Mhm.”

She knew what he meant by that. She scooted closer to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Then what do you want to do?”

He shrugged as he pulled her closer. “I don’t know…” he said, sounding as if he really did know.

Y/n didn’t reply. She didn’t need to. Slowly, she leaned closer to him, pressing her lips to his. It wasn’t long until they were full on snogging.

The portrait hole opened, but the two didn’t notice. The boy gasped. “Fred? What are you doing with my girlfriend?”

Y/n pushed George away. Or, who she though was George. She looked at him as her eyes swelled with tears. “What?”


Y/n bawled as she sat on the sofa. Her hands covered her face. “I’m sorry, George! I thought Fred was you!”

The twins couldn’t keep a straight face. They both started to cry with laughter.

Y/n lifted her head. “What’s so funny?” she sniffled.

“We got you!” announced the standing redhead.

“Come here.” The other sitting beside her held her tightly. “It was only a little prank. I didn’t intend for you to cry.”

She sobbed into his shoulder. “You two are so mean.”

He rubbed her back gently. “I’m sorry.”

Fred continued to laugh lightly as he walked to the empty chair beside them. “I can’t believe you fell for it!”

“I‘ll never do it again.”

Y/n wiped her tears with her sleep as she raised up.

“And, I can promise you, if Fred EVER pulls a stunt like that, I might have to kill him.”

She giggled slightly as Fred pretended to scoff.

George placed his chin on her shoulder, still embracing her. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” she responded. “But, don’t think I won’t be getting you two back.”

“We’ll be waiting!”

Watching Smile for the first time

-Oh dear, what an ominous title. Sounds like someone’s gonna die if they don’t smile.


“What do we do?”

-That moment when you get together with your friend(s) but don’t know what to do

-I remember how some of my friends used to come over and we would just sit awkwardly and then “…wanna play hide and seek?”

-Now I want to see a game of Hide and Seek in the Tardis

-That would actually be great, people could hide anywhere, they’d have to bring meals because the game could last days, and there would have to be rules about the hiding person revealing themselves if it takes too long to find them

-”You can’t reach the controls from the seats”

-But then again, you can’t exactly jump from console to console while sitting down

-”You never thought of bringing it six feet closer?”
 “No, not so far, no…”
 I love Bill so much

-My episode started buffering at the exact moment of the knock


-Eh it’s probably Nardole

-Called it

-”I’m over 2000 years old and I don’t always want to take the stairs.”
 Aren’t you like 4.5 billion years old considering Heaven Sent

-It’s a bit confusing… It’s all a bunch of wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey stuff.
 For now, let’s just consider him as over 2000 years old because he said so.

-Wait, he said OVER 2000 years old. That could be anywhere between 2001 to 4.5 billion and on. I’m not technically wrong.

-Nardole be like “I’m suspicious”




what’s that face supposed to be



-Those smiley face robots are homicidal maniac machines of doom

-On the other hand, a psychopath might be able to thrive in this environment if he likes to smile, since he doesn’t care about the emotions or mishaps of anyone else other than himself… or herself or whatever

-Side discussion: I would die very quickly, being the ball of hatred and anger and scowls that I am.

-Why can’t people cover that sticker on their backs? Get a piece of paper or something if you can’t reach it…

Don’t cry at me bitch I can clearly see the blueprints of murder in your robot brain







-I bet that when he was planning Series 10 he just wrote down a list of things that’d be entertaining to make people get scared of as a writing prompt

-He’s had the time of his life


-Screw you bitch, I’m an Asian, I’ll fry the lot of them locusts and eat them for lunch

d i e    h u m a n ,    d i e

-The face of death everyone

-”Smile” by Frank Cotterell-Boyce

-So it’s not Moffat, huh?
 That’s a first.
 This frank guy better not be the next Moffat.



Reminds me a bit of the Sidney Opera House for some reason…

-That being said, why is there a vast field of wheat?

-Are they there to feed the locusts

-”They say the settlers have cracked the secret of human happiness.”
 If by ‘the secret of human happiness’ they mean ‘forcing everyone to smile in a psychopathic, creepy, George-Orwell’s-1984-ish way’

-”A long time ago, a thing happened. As a result of the thing, I made a promise. As a result of the promise, I have to stay on Earth.“
 Okay…. *looks at episode summary list of the past 9 seasons* um

-*looks at episode summaries of the entirety of Classic Who* umm

-Later I guess

-By which I mean never


holes in the shirt

-Tiny robots huh? Guess I’ll have to eat something else for lunch then.

-Don’t you pull that face at me you white kiiler robopotato

-”Well, you can’t offend a machine.”
 “Typical wet brain chauvinism.”

-*offended R2D2 noises*

-”You’ve just downloaded an upgrade for your ears!”
 You mean you’ve downloaded a convenient plot device in case you two get separated

-”Who needs loos? There’s probably an app for that.”
  I wish.
  Also, proof that the Doctor doesn’t give a shit (literally).

Imagine if the eyes of its eyes were also smiley faces and their eyes were smileys and THEIR eyes were also smileys and it just went on and on and on like that

-”It speaks emoji!”



-*raging internet person voice* DON’T WEAR THE CANCER!!1!!!

WHOoa there betch

-It’s got to feel unpleasant to have a badge scuttling down your back…

-Especially if said badge is an indicator of how close you are to death by robot locusts…

Okay, okay, I’ll admit, that one is cute. It suits him. I wanna draw him with that sort of face. Although I’m not sure if I’ll get around to it.

-But that DOESN’T mean I’ll be using that particular emoji in any text messages I send EVER

-And yes in case you haven’t noticed I belong in the emoji-hating half of the Internet population

-”It knew I was starving!”
 Because smiling means you’re hungry, right?

Looks like jelly…

-Random thought: If you tried to destroy one of those robots while all smileing and happy, would they make no resistance?

It’s like someone took a blurry white brush in Photoshop and trailed it around the edges of his head and his left side

-”In the future we don’t eat living things, we eat algae.“
 Yeah, right, because algae are non-living objects.

-”I met an emperor made of algae once. He fancied me.“
 I uh
 I don’t know what to do with that information

-But thanks anyway

-”Is there gonna be food sexism even in the future though”

-”Is this bloke utopia”

-Bill is by far the companion who was most shocked by ‘two hearts’.

-Man I adore Series 10 dialogue

-”You’re thinking! Tell me what you’re thinking about.”
 “A magic haddock.”


-Like Bone Meal in Minecraft

-Except that it’s made by killing people and not walking skeletons


-wait, so they’re killing all the people in order to make fertilizer to grow crops to feed the people? That’s nonsense. Are they feeding something else here?

*cue multiple overlapping Hamlet voice clips*

-”The skeleton crew”

Plaster cast much?

shit does that mean he’s crying inside

Rise, my locust children

-Yikes that smile is creepy

-Okay it’s starting to be cringey

-Yep I’m gonna die there




burn my friends

-Can’t you detach the badges though

-For one thing I can reach that spot on my back

-”There’s broadband in there. Go! Go and watch some movies or something!”

-Why do I feel like there’s always been broadband in there, but it sounds like a recent addition because the old companions were simply out of date by our standards

-”Penguin with his arse on fire…”
 Leave Frobisher alone will ya


-Well I’m not happy

-I fact I feel like

screaming FUCK YOUUUUUUU in your smug lil shit of a face

-The dialogue is top notch

-”Why are you Scottish?”
 “I’m not Scottish, I’m just cross.”

-I mean

-”Is there a Scotland in space?”
 “They’re all over the place, demanding independence from every planet that they land on.”

-I feel like they just took Tumblr’s most stupid yet essential questions and put them in Bill’s lines

-”Don’t sentimentalize me.”

-”You couldn’t even leave me serving chips, so I’m not going to leave you.”

“I am the wall.”

-Reminds me of the bit in Night At The Museum 2 where the kid guides Larry through the Smithsonian via an online map and a phone.

-How is she tracking him on the map though


-the killbots are at it

-Oh dear, catwalks.
 Catwalks are never good.
 People fall off of catwalks.
 Like poor Han Solo in that other franchise.




Really, do you have to have a face for unlocking doors

-A book of human history?

-I wonder what’s on the pages behind those?

Don’t you dare

Don’t you fuckin dare

I love how it’s not a scared face or anything, it’s just a plain, emotionless frown, as if saying “Oh, this is happening again.”


-Wait, does this mean BBC’s props department had to spend their time making numerous yellow plastic stickers with various emoji faces on them



-”If I look purposeful, they’ll think I’ve got a plan. If they think I’ve got a plan, at least they won’t try to think of a plan themselves.”


-So the ‘Vardy’ didn’t know what grief was and the first thing they did was “yeah let’s kill everyone who has grief”

-”What’s the opposite of a massacre?”
 Um, mass birth?
 …Okay, let’s not go there.


-”Have you seen her?”
 “Do not talk to me about her. She was an unworthy victim.”

Humans: “We’re gonna do the thing!”
The Doctor, running after the humans: “No, don’t do the thing!”
Every. Single. Damn. Time.

Oh shit, those are guns.

-”You mess with one of us, you mess with us all.”

-It’s like going to Tumble and yelling “DOCTOR WHO SUCKS!!!”
 Millions upon millions of fangirls will swarm upon your dashboard and eat you alive.

-Not that I’m going to partake in any of that.

-Okay, maybe I’d eat someone alive if they insulted Doctor Who to my face…

Weren’t you thinking of murder just a few seconds ago


-That story reminds me of the Monkey’s Hand; actually I think that’s basically the same story.

-”A migratory conglomerate known as the human race“

-”Would you like me to discuss rent?”

Okay, I’m laughing really hard here BUT why are they still using euros


-But why are they still using pounds? Does Britain still use pounds? I thought they switched to euros or something?

-Ahh, nevermind, they’re still using pounds.

-”Did we just jumpstart a new civilization?“
 “It’s a dirty job but someone’s got to do it.”

-”You live in a police box.”
 “That’s a pure coincidence.”
 “Yeah, of course.”

-”Back at the exact moment we left.”
 I’m calling it, they’ve landed in like 1000 years into the past or something. He never lands right when he says that sort of thing.

-”Maybe I do need a steering wheel.”

-Called it… Kinda. Not exactly 1000 years but still.


-”Have  you ever killed anyone?”
 Ohhh boy, Bill’s gonna trigger the Doctor. That’s not good.

-That’s never good.

Are you telling me there were people walking around in those things?!

-(I looked them up and apparently Craig and Kiran up there are just really short people. No offense. I just thought they were remote-controlled or something. But then, that would’ve taken a lot more budget.)

-Anyways, enjoyed the episode, I feel like “yay gotta go save some people” was a more Tenth Doctor than a Twelfth Doctor thing to do, but it was interesting overall. I’m looking forward to the next episode - not a two-parter, but it connects to this one.

Not A Perfect World: a Nurse Offstill fanfic

In which my OC Nurse Offstill and Harold have a private talk in her office. 

A lot of students came to her office in tears, because of some pain or another. If it wasn’t a skinned knee, it was a classmate’s mean remark. A nosebleed, or Principal Krupp’s severity. A splinter or a broken heart over a bad grade. Nurse Offstill considered it her duty and her privilege to cure all of it, and cure it all she did, with her supplies, her equipment, her secret stash of biscuits that she shared only with the kids, and her sympathetic ear. The students at Jerome Horwitz Elementary came to her for care and support for almost everything. 

Well, it had been almost everything, until the day Harold Hutchins stepped into her office, looking deeply distressed. 

Without a word, Nurse Offstill put the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door and closed it so that they could be alone and uninterrupted. She knew that look on his face. It was the look kids made when there was something eating them alive, a woe or a guilty secret they had to share before it led to their mental breakdown. Throughout her career as a pediatric nurse she’d heard more confessions than a priest. And, like a priest, she considered the confessions to be sacred and never shared them. 

Keep reading


A/N: This is my last request!! When I open up requests again I will have a post with the rules of requesting a fic from me! So look out for that. ALSO THE ENDING IS SO BAD BECAUSE I NEEDED TO END IT SOMEWHERE AND IF Y’ALL WANT A PART 2 YOU CAN ASK FOR IT!

Request: ( @bluesnowyangel ) Is there anyway I could get 46 with General George Washington?

Prompt: 46: “For some reason I’m attracted to you.”

Warnings: none hun

AU: Historical

Word Count:1,632(holy)

Being the 2nd eldest child of Philip Schuyler has never been much of a burden. You have 3 sisters, all of which are gorgeous. Your sisters consist of your older sister Angelica, and your younger sisters Eliza and Peggy.

Of course you are also gorgeous but you are not as well known as your sisters. You have always went to balls with them, never finding a suitor.

Today was the day of the winters ball. General George Washington and his troops were going to be there and your sisters were all swooning. You on the other hand, were not as thrilled.

Of course you were excited and, very much like your sisters, wanted to meet a suitor. However, you were not thrilled because you were almost positive that this ball would end just like all the others. Meeting no men that caught your eye.

Men swooned over you and your sisters all the time. You did not like most of the men, as they seem to be impolite and arrogant. Most were also not attractive in your eyes. Some could call you picky, but you call it smart.

You searched through your large wardrobe for a dress, eventually choosing a long purple dress. The bottom was trimmed with lace, much like your sisters dresses. 

You walked out of your room, completely ready to leave, finding your youngest sister, Peggy. “Hey Peggles.” You smiled in pure adoration at your sister. She was wearing her signature yellow dress and looked as beautiful as always.

Your sister immediately smiled back at you. “Y/N! You look gorgeous!” Peggy gushed. You blushed softly before smiling widely.

“Oh. Not as much as you dear sister.” You smiled, bopping her nose with the tip of your pointer finger softly causing her to scrunch up her nose slightly.

“Y/N! You must find someone at the ball today! Angelica has already found Mr. Church. Eliza is…. Well Eliza. Needing to feel helpless all the time.” Peggy said, rolling her eyes.

“Oh sister. You seize to understand that I am looking for the right man. Eliza is doing that as well. You have not found a suitor yet either. Shall I be pushing you for it?” You asked, smiling wide. Peggy pouted before shaking her head.

“I suppose not… But I’m younger than you! By many years! It is different for younger women.” Peggy refuted, trying her best to win the argument sw before the sisters.

“In a way, I suppose. However, you shall not rush love. It will take its peak one day but for now it has decided to stay out of sight. It is possible that love will peak at the ball. But it is also very possible that it will not and continue to be out of sight. These things take time my sister but one day the wait will come to an end. Do you understand?” You smiled as you ran your hand through your sisters hair.

Peggy huffed. “Fine.” She sighed before Angelica and Eliza walked downstairs.

“Goodmorning ladies!” Angelica grinned. She was wearing her amazing pink dress that was ever so delightful, lighting up an entire room.

“You both look gorgeous!!” Eliza gushed at you and Peggy. Eliza was wearing her blue dress that was ever so breathtaking in her eyes, although it was just as brilliant to everyone else.

“Ah! Thank you sisters.” You smiled, standing from the chair where you and Peggy were sitting and opening your arms wide, basically asking for a hug to Angelica who happily obliged.

You hugged Angelica lightly before moving to Angelica’s left and hugging your younger sister Eliza. “I am thrilled for the ball sisters! What if Y/N and I meet a suitor?!” Eliza questioned excitedly.

Peggy cleared her throat as if to say ‘I haven’t found a suitor yet either,’ making you and Eliza laugh. “Oh Eliza do not forget dear Peggy. She also has the time to meet a suitor.” You smirked. You could visibly see Peggy blush but decided to not say anything.

“Oh how could I?” Eliza said, smirking. Peggy huffed and opened her mouth to speak, cut off by Angelica.

“Now now sisters. Let’s cut the chit chat. Our carriage has arrived!” Angelica smiled. Eliza squealed in excitement, causing you to giggle quietly. You and your sisters walked into the carriage, taking random seats.

When you finally arrived at the ball, being held at your Fathers’ extra mansion, you were in absolute awe. The mansions was huge, as expected. The outside was decorated with gorgeous vines and lights, further pushing you into the state of awe. Eventually, Eliza pushed your side with her elbow slightly, gesturing you to step out of the carriage.

You obliged, stepping out of the horse drawn carriage. You thanked the coach as he went off and turned to your sisters, smiling brightly. “Let us be off then sisters?” You smiled. All 3 of your sisters nodded.

You walked into the mansion, your smile beaming. You looked gorgeous. Your H/C hair was put up into an elegant bun, your E/C eyes gleaming. Little did you know, General George Washington was admiring your beauty from afar. He was in just as much awe as you were about the mansion. You turned to your sisters, seeing Angelica smirking at someone. You followed her gaze and spotted George Washington.

You blushed softly as he averted his gaze. Eliza was starstruck by a man standing next to George. Peggy was no where to be seen, until you spotted her standing with a man with slightly darker skin, his hair put up in a ponytail. You giggled as Peggy spoke to him before Eliza spoke to both you and Angelica. “Yo, this one’s mine because boy….. Has he got me helpless.” Eliza said, pointing to the smaller man, also complimented with a ponytail similar to the man Peggy was speaking to.

You turned to Angelica and smirked, only to find her with the same smirk on her face. Angelica put her hand out for you to hold and you gladly took it, beginning to walk over to the man with your sister.

When you and Angelica arrived to the man Angelica spoke. “Hello sir. My sister over there has seem to found you attractive.” She smirked, pointing to Eliza, you standing right beside her.

“Is that so?” The man grinned. “Oh! How rude of me! I am Alexander Hamilton. Washington’s right hand man. And who might you ladies be?” Alexander smiled.

You and Angelica curtsied to Alexander, you introducing yourself first. “Good evening sir. I am Y/N Schuyler.” You smiled. Angelica beamed at you before Angelica spoke.

“And I, Angelica Schuyler.” She smiled. Just as Alexander was about to speak, General George Washington walked over. You smiled wide at the sight of the general. He was wearing his General coat and was as attractive as always. Wait what?

George smiled at you and Angelica. He took Angelica’s hand and kissed the back before moving to you. He softly took your hand and pressed a soft kiss to the back of your hand making you blush and smile wider. “George Washington, at your service.” George smiled. You and Angelica curtsied at the general standing before you. Alexander had practically dissapeared and found Eliza. They were dancing happily. Eliza looked absolutely helpless and you envied her happiness, however, little did you know that the key to that happiness was standing in front of you in the form of General George Washington.

“Good Evening Sir. I am Angelica Schuyler.” Angelica smiled politely. You immediately smiled when he looked at you.

“Good Evening General. Y/N Schuyler. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You introduced. George grinned at the two of you.

“Sisters?” George asked, his grin still plastered on his face. Angelica nodded, her smile also politely painted on her face. 

“Thank you for all your service.” You added, smiling even wider if possible.

“Well Y/N. If it takes fighting a war for us to meet it will all have been worth it.” George smiled as you blushed a darker shade of red.

“I’ll leave you to it.” Angelica smirked, winking at you slyly before walking away. You turned back to George, taking in his facial feautures. He was a few feet taller than you and was basically towering over you, although you didn’t mind much.

“Would you like to dance Y/N?” George asked. You quickly nodded your head and took his hand in yours. You both walked onto the dance floor hand in hand. He wrapped his arm around your waist softly as if the tiniest rough action would break you as you put your hand on his shoulder, your other hand still inertwined with his. You both began to sway to the music, moving your feet along the ballroom floor. 

“You are quite the dancer General.” You commented, smiling happily. Now you knew how helpless Eliza felt. And damn did it feel good. George immediately smirked back at you.

“I could definetly say the same thing to you Y/N.” He smiled. You blushed softly as you continued dancing.

“For some reason I find you attractive.” You smiled out of nowhere. He smirked back at you.

“Well it seems we both find each other attractive then.” He smirked. 

Before you knew it, the song ended and you and George walked off of the dance floor, smiling wide. Your sisters and Alexander soon walked over to you and George. Angelica squealed slightly at you and George causing you to blush profusely.

George turned to you quickly. “May I write to you Miss Schuyler?” He asked. You blushed extremely red causing your sisters to smirk and quickly nodded your head, telling him the address.

You finally walked away and told your sisters everything. Especially how attractive he was.