#I was thinking about this after reading about how George hasn't been quite as well recieved as Lewis or Lando this weekend

[yesterdayiwrote]

Y'know what, I'll say it... George Russell isn't a 'PR robot', and the only reason people believe this is because he's actually got a relatively weak and amateur PR presence around him...

Let's not forget, a lot of these drivers, especially some of the more beloved ones, genuinely do have very large PR and branding teams around them, whose entire job is to manicure their image so precisely and carefully that you as the public believe it's natural and effortless. Some of them have huge PR agencies handling their image. Lewis, Lando, Daniel, Charles, Alex... all fan favourites and whaddya know... all have huge agencies handling their public image.

George wants to be liked... they all want to be liked, but actually he's one of the few drivers in top teams who doesn't have someone specifically dedicated to driving his PR presence. His sister seems to handle his diary and act as his assistant.

The reason George looks like he's trying so hard to adhere to a specific image all the time isn't because of an overabundance of PR influence, it's actually because of the opposite.

He's polite and he's well spoken and also a pretty intelligent guy. He has a very methodical and professional way of speaking which can read as rehearsed, but the reason you can clock when he's trying is because his PR 'machine' is a bit of a slapdash homemade affair with all it's inner cogs exposed, unlike the slick, well oiled and smartly packaged ones some of his peers have working for them.

He's not 'unlikeable' because he's a horrible person, and when you ask people why they don't like George, the 'PR Robot' excuse often gets wheeled out, but I think the main crux of the issue is that people have become so conditioned to accept the PR generated ideal of what 'humble and down to earth' should look like, that they find it hard to comprehend when someone doesn't quite fit into it in the way they think they should. He's not painfully unnatural, he's humanly awkward...

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

HOW COME?

Pairings: Fred Weasley x Fem!reader Summary: you go to the Joke shop and take a look around, not realising one of the owners watching you the whole time Warnings: none?

the shop was filled with kids and their parents, looking at everything that piled the shelves, kids wanting to buy everything and the parents shaking their heads at them. you managed to squeeze through and get some room to breath

they'd only been open for a week and it was this packed, it was an understatement to call this shop a hit.

the fluorescent colours were blinding you as you turned to see a boy, his face turning green with his mum by his side.

you looked around, smiling at every item you see. not knowing you were being watched from the second story of the shop.

you always knew the twins were gonna open a joke shop, but now that you're in it, reality hit you, they had really made their dreams come true. and they were successful.

you were friends of theirs, sort of- you weren't in their group but you three definitely talked quite a bit. if there was a project for potions- they would ask for your help and if you were paired up in transfiguration they would do their part.

you made your way over to the area that was glowing with pink and saw a large stand in the shape of flowers, glowing pink and creating little heart bubbles, it made you smile.

you picked up one of the bottles and read the label. you shook your head with a slight laugh as you read love potion in a pretty font.

"I'll give you a discount for that if you want" you heard his voice from behind you

you turned to see Fred with a smile on his face

"but, then again, it would be a useless purchase" he smirked at you, stepping closer, looking down at you

"how come? do they not work?" you asked curiously

"oh they work perfectly, but you're not gonna need it" he shook his head ammused

"and why is that?" you questioned, tilting your head

truth be told, you always had feelings for the boy, he ticked all your boxes. funny, loyal, tall, confident, passionate and witty.

but he was just so popular and almost every girl you know was swoon over him

"why try to use something when it's already worked without it?" he chuckled.

Fred would be an idiot to deny his feelings for you. he never would've told you this in Hogwarts, he never would've been this straight forward with you about this before, because even THE popular Fred Weasley was self-conscious sometimes.

he sometimes just looked at you and felt as though he wasn't enough, that he couldn't give you what you deserved

but now he was a successful business man, making big bucks. when he saw you enter the shop 10 minutes ago, he knew what he had to do, he knew he could give you anything your heart desired, if you'll have him

"how so? last time i checked I've had no guy chase after me" you laughed, putting the bottle down beside you on the flower stand.

you raised your eyebrows at him, waiting for his response

"who knows, maybe he hasn't been around you for a while, maybe he was waiting for you to come to him" he shrugged confidently.

you knew what he meant, he never failed to make flirtatious comments, so you brushed it off, even though the butterflies made their way to your stomach.

"and who might this young man be? I should probably go find him, I wouldn't want to keep him waiting" you smiled coyly

"I can't remember his name, but I can describe him for you, maybe tell you were he is" he smirked, leaning down

"do tell" you leaned in too, eager to continue and get to the point

"well I heard he has red hair, he's pretty tall too, I heard he's 6'3. he's pretty handsome too, I think you'll like him, he comes from a pretty big family, and I'm pretty sure I see him in the shop everyday" he informed you cheekily

"wow, I never knew George felt that way about me, I should probably go find him" you snickered, looking at his annoyed face. you were only teasing.

"George? that doesn't seem to ring a bell, I'm pretty sure his name started with an F" he rubbed his chin, looking deep in fake thought

"wow" you gasped "you're not implying what I think you are, are you Fred?" you gasp in faux shock

"Fred! that's his name, he sounds dreamy, doesn't he?" he clicked his fingers

"you should see him in person" you chuckled, his smirk dropped and instead, a small smile made it's way onto his lips

"maybe you should go and ask him out, I heard his favourite place is the three broomsticks" he replied joyfully

you hummed, thinking for a second "nah, I'll let him ask me since he's so in love with me"

"I don't know, he might be nervous" he tilted his head

"then you should go tell him he has nothing to be nervous about" you leaned in and whispered to him, as if it was a secret. he smiled and looked at the ground, his tongue running along his upper teeth, tapping the wood of the floor with his boot

"will do" he answered, a sweet grin on his face

"you stay right here, I think I just saw him" he pat your shoulder, stepping away from you before coming back a few seconds later

"hello there" he said happily

"hello Fred, fancy seeing you here!" you beamed

"I know, I thought I'd pop in and see how successful the shop is" he looked around, motioning to all the chaos, making you shake your head in amusement

"it's incredible isn't it? I must say I'm very proud of the two" your comment made him blush slightly, and you could tell it caught him a bit off guard

"so, I don't know if you know this but some handsome young bloke came up to me just then and said you would go on a date with me" he responded

"only if you asked" you blinked

"well then, how would you like to go the three broomsticks with me this weekend, Saturday maybe?" he asked you

"your favourite right?" you raised your eyebrows

he gasped "how'd you know?" he placed a hand over his heart

"lucky guess" you giggled

"so what do you say? will you go out on a date with me? a successful businessman, who is -said to be- very attractive" he question sheepishly

"Saturday?" you asked "I don't know I might be busy-"

"-Sunday?" he cut you off

"I was kidding, Saturday sounds perfect" you grinned up at him

"great, perfect. Meet me here at 11- in the morning, or night, is night better?" he rambled quietly

"11 at night? bit late don't you think?" you questioned

"right yeah, morning is more reasonable" he nodded

"well th-" he started but got cut off by George

"-Fred, I need help!"

Fred looked back at his twin and back at you, sparing a kiss to your cheek

"see you then, Love" he winked before rushing to George

--------------------------------------------------

[bella-rose29]

Anthony Lockwood x fem!reader: reverse damsel in distress situation

I just thought this was funny so I made some head canons about it

I don't think there are any warnings? like a couple of vague references to stuff (like they're on a horse together 👀 and they go in a lake together 👀) and possibly a swear word or two??? but I can't remember

I wrote these while I was meant to be writing my essays and I'm not gonna go back and proof read

ok so

instead of the royal child locked in a tower that's guarded by a huge ass dragon being the princess, it's the prince

and the prince is Anthony lockwood

I know he would totally want to be a knight or train or something

but instead he gets kidnapped when a dragon (think Smaug sized) attacks the city

(we're gonna pretend that his family are all alive for this)

so lockwood gets carried off (he's like... 15? 16?)

put in the ruins of a castle in the middle of a thick and dangerous forest that takes like... a week to get to

and for the next three (ish) years parties are sent out to rescue him

none of them are successful

they are either killed by the dragon

or they get scared and run away

lockwood doesn't really mind living with the dragon

Lucy becomes a knight to try and save her friend and George is like a really well respected scholar or something (because lockwood was friends with him and made sure everybody appreciated George's talent for research) who researches dragons and how best to defeat them

lockwood does miss his family but he figures that he can go back any time he wants, and now he actually has some freedom for once in his life

it's a breath of fresh air (just like the air that's all around him because he lives in a forest now)

and the dragon is actually really nice

brings him food, makes fires to keep him warm, lets him practice his sword fighting on its hide (since it's basically impenetrable)

lockwood gets really good at sword fighting really quickly (of course he does)

and soon he's venturing out into the wilds to hunt for food or to discourage the hunting parties from coming to rescue him

also he just likes going for walks sometimes and there are nasty things living in those trees

but one day

not long after his 19th birthday

a single figure approaches the ruins

now the dragon starts gearing up for a fight (even though it's wondering if this is really a fair fight)

but when the singular knight starts bowing to the dragon and pandering to dragon pride

well

safe to say this knight won't be getting eaten today

lockwood of course ventures downstairs to see what's going on

and when he sees his terrible, fear-inducing dragon on its back having belly rubs from some random knight he almost faints in shock

"uh, who are you? And what are you doing with my dragon?"

the knight is surprised and pauses the belly rubs (the dragon lets out a huff)

"oh, I'm here to rescue you I think!"

then lockwood is surprised again because holy shit this knight is a woman

normally women in the army was rare since when lockwood was in the city the patriarchy was still in the progress of being abolished

but in the time he's been away the army has sorted itself out

(not that he knew that)

so he's all confused and frowny

and then he remembers to speak

"oh, well I'm quite happy here, thank you. Sorry for making you travel all this way, but I shan't be being rescued anytime soon."

he expects the knight to protest or something

instead she replies with:

"Alright then. Could I at least stay the night? I haven't slept properly for a while"

he agrees

the dragon is happy because the knight staying = more belly rubs

she goes out to hunt for dinner for the three of them and comes back an hour later with a lot of food

they spend the night talking about what's been happening in the city since lockwood hasn't been there for like, three years

turns out a lot has changed

like it was mentioned earlier, women are now in the army (and can train from a very young age like the men)

the city opened its borders and trade routes have been established between them and neighbouring cities

this means a lot more money has come into the city

and building programmes have started so that people have jobs and then housing

schooling is free

all good things

lockwood spends most of the time the knight (who has introduced herself as Y/n) is talking feeling as though he missed out and wanting to go home

he doesn't want to stay there, he just wants to catch up with everyone and let them know that he's fine

and could they please stop attacking his dragon thanks

omg and while the knight is getting ready for bed she takes her armour off (she has clothes on underneath don't you worry)

and lockwood doesn't realise but he's staring

because that armour is fitted but shapeless and he hasn't seen a woman for nearly three years (and he's a honey teenager let's face it)

and while he might not realise that he's looking

the dragon absolutely does

flicks him with its tail to get him to stop even though the dragon thinks that the whole situation is hilarious

because the dragon had also seen how lockwood had been looking at the knight while they were talking

and boy oh boy is he in trouble because he is definitely crushing on her

the next morning they're having breakfast:

(lockwood went out to get it because the others were still asleep)

and she's laughing at his jokes

and lockwood thinks oh shit I think I'm falling for her

and then he agrees to make the journey back to the city with her and she smiles and it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen

(mostly he agrees to go back so that he can spend more time with her but shhh)

they hug the dragon goodbye (refuses to leave the hoard)

set out on the knight's horse

and omg they both get on and they're really close together because they don't entirely fit and-

lockwood is really struggling to concentrate he won't lie

so is she

anyway

they get back to the city and everybody is cheering because someone actually managed to defeat the dragon and bring the prince home???

and then she has to explain to his parents (after a very tearful reunion from all members of the family) that no, she didn't kill the dragon, she just told it that she'd never seen a dragon more impressive and gave it belly rubs

then lockwood has to break the news that he's not staying

and more crying ensues

the knight is kind of just... stood there awkwardly because these are her monarchs and she has no clue how to act right now

they invite her to dinner

she says yes (she didn't feel she could say no when lockwood turned to her with puppy dog eyes)

it's very loud

and more of a party than a dinner

lockwood spends a lot of time around George and Lucy (and Y/n totally isn't jealous of how gorgeous Lucy is and how lockwood looks at her like she's the sun that would be true ridiculous)

she's used to the noise of it all, she's a knight for god's sake

it's just been a long couple of weeks and she needs a break

so she heads out to the balcony for a breather

and is surprised to see the prince there because she thought he'd be in the middle of the celebrations

he gives her a small smile when she steps out

and she looks gorgeous against the glow of the room behind her and lockwood thinks he might be falling again

they talk for hours

literally until sunrise

everyone else has gone to sleep

they've moved from standing to sitting with their backs against the wall of the castle watching the sun come up over the horizon

there is absolutely no need for them to be sat as close as they are but-

and lockwood almost feels sad to be leaving again

but then he remembers how constricted he'd felt earlier when people were fussing over him and getting him ready for the party

and he thinks he's much better off living with his dragon in the forest

the journey back Y/n comes with him

she says it's to protect him

she knows he can fend for himself she just likes spending time with him promised his parents that she would (they hadn't asked her to)

they get ambushed on the way by bandits or something

they fight together like they've been doing it their whole lives

and when she pulls out two knives and throws them with perfect accuracy and without even looking and saves his ass, lockwood knows he's screwed

yep he's definitely fallen for her

the dragon knows What's Up when they get back because they're both giggling and stumbling over each other as they walk in

they stopped for a dip in a lake on the way and he totally didn't nearly faint when she started stripping

they didn't go far (just a lil kiss because they finally admit their feelings for each other) but the journey was quite long so they've had time to talk about how it's gonna work

she decides she'll move in with him

the dragon is happy because once again, the knight staying = more belly rubs

lockwood is happy because he's got the girl of his dreams

and they live in their ruins in the middle of a forest, occasionally travelling back to the city for birthdays and celebrations and such

the dragon gets a lot of belly rubs when it comes with them (which doesn't happen much because of the hoard)

George and Lucy travel to see lockwood a lot (and basically live with them now)

tag list: @anathemaloren, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @briar-rose23, @dangelnleif, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @light-23, @locknco, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @ran23sblog, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife

[coral-island-player]

Spark's other parent

I know the identity of Spark's other parent. Long post under the cut

Ok, so this is about a game called Cattails Wildwood Story. I wholeheartedly recommend it, it's sometimes described as "stardew valley but cats" and while there is no farming, the relationship system is quite similar, and maybe even better in some aspects (dialogue for every relationship stage which is 12 if you marry the npc, specific dialogue for when your hunger or health is low, getting gifts, you have a birthday, etc.). But if you're reading this, you probably already know all that! So, let's get into it.

So, the identity of Spark's other parent has never been explicitly confirmed, however I have a strong theory on who it may be.

Often it is speculated that Spark's other parent is a member of the Forest Colony. Or another colony. And while it seems likely, there is one singular piece of dialogue from Ember, which you get at 3 hearts, that puts all that into question.

"I spent some time as a house cat, (Name). Well, sort of. The humans let me come and go as I pleased, but they always left out food for me. It was a decent life, but I could never go back to it. That's when I met my ex. Too many bad memories associated with that time in my life."

So from that dialogue we find out that Ember used to be a house cat and that they met their ex partner and the other parent of Spark during that time. Is there a game where Ember is a house cat and we can find out more about them?

Well, there is.

So, for those of you who are familiar with the Warrior Cats book series (and that's probably 99% of Cattails players. It's not needed to enjoy or understand it, as even the game developer hasn't read it, just the field guides because his little sister wanted a game about her favourite book, but worth a try if you want to understand how Cattails became what it is today), you might have heard of a game Warrior Cats Untold Tales.

It's a game that was made by the Cattails developer. For those of you who haven't heard of it, it's an old game that you can download on your computer for free. It's very low quality when it comes to graphics and gameplay, but hey. It's better that 99.9% of what you can find on mobile for free. It's basically a very early version of Cattails when it comes to mechanics. If you take Cattails and take away Stardew Valley, you're pretty much left with a higher quality version of WC:UT. It's an oversimplification and obviously Cattails is more that the combination of these games. Just trying to give you a general idea what it's like. It's worth a try - after all, it is free. There will be spoilers here for the part with Ember - because as you probably can tell, they are in the game.

So, as you play the game, you might encounter a cat named - yeah you guessed it - Ember. They're a kittypet (the clan cats' name for a house cat) and willing to show you their house and let you visit them and possibly live there if you pay 40 reputation points (representing the fact that it's dishonorable for a clan cat to accept anything from humans). Now if it wasn't for that one piece of dialogue, I'd just think that it doesn't take place in the same universe - but given what Ember said, it probably does.

When you visit Ember, you find out they live with an owner named George and a little kitten named Fuzzy who you can play hide and seek with. But you can also find a passage to BloodClan (for those of you who don't know, it's a group of street cats that are kinda evil and look like Charlotte). There is one cat that is white (unfortunately I couldn't find a high quality photo, just look up "warrior cats untold tales thrash"). His (that's right, that cat is referred to as "he") name is Thrash (not a typo, that's legit his name. I was today years old when I found out his name isn't Trash) and he can actually live with you and Ember and Fuzzy! If you let him live in the owner's closet, he will give you something every day, but Fuzzy won't play hide and seek with you anymore because Thrash is mean and Fuzzy is upset that you let him in the house.

So, it is plausible that Thrash and Ember fell in love when that happened and had a kitten. Now, I have no idea how Ember got to the Forest Colony, but I am almost certain that Thrash is Spark's father.

Also that means that Spark is half BloodClan (unlike Charlotte)

[toomuchracket]

dad!george at parents evening is all ive been thinking about today i cant cope

i think he'd actually be quite nervous about it! like obv george knows his daughter is The Shit (she's his kid, hello), but he's been away doing some shows since the start of the new term (he was of course there for her first few days, though!) and he hasn't really seen firsthand how she's progressing in the same way that you have when you've been checking over her homework. but you'd never know he was nervous - he's as cool-looking as ever, tall and dilfy in his yellow glasses and blazer over a loose button-up, walking in with you and your daughter between you holding one of your hands each, chatting and laughing with her friends' parents and organising to take some of the kids to the park next weekend. and the nerves dissipate completely when it's your timeslot to go into the classroom and chat to the teacher, who immediately describes your daughter as "an absolute joy, who's come on so well since she started school", describes how positive and social she is, and pulls out some of her spelling and maths and drawing work - george, arm slung over your shoulder, cannot wipe the smile from his face. he glances over at his baby, sitting cross-legged on the classroom carpet contentedly reading a picture book, and honestly starts to well up at how proud he is of her (but you can't see, because of the glasses. strategic king). what he's most proud of, though, is when the teacher smiles knowingly at george and says "we have a music class once a week, and she's REALLY excelling there. i might be preaching to the choir here, given your line of work, but if she's not already getting some form of official music lessons then i would really recommend them for her"; he's internally like "that's MY BABY!!" and externally like "oh definitely! she comes to the studio with me sometimes and faffs about with the instruments, but we've never done anything official. we will, though". and you're jokingly like "oh GOD not another one smh", but you're just as proud - to show your daughter how proud you are of her, you make a pit-stop at mcdonalds on the way home lol. after she's shown you everything in the classroom she's ever touched, that is <3

[stylistiquements]

Day 1 : Soap Bubbles.

𐐪𐑂 Pairing : Sapnap x fem!reader {Playlist}

𐐪𐑂 Summary : You're being introduce to the internet in a peculiar way, it's up to you to decide what you're going to do with it.

𐐪𐑂 Word count : 1.4k | W: written part underneath

𐐪𐑂 Warning : very few swears

Masterlist | Previous | Next

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・　　 .・゜゜・　　・゜゜・

The coffee that sinks inside your stomach brings out a grimace and a click of your tongue where the taste stains; too bitter, too acidic but you’ll drink it anyway and to the last drop; there is something about the idea of spending time with three best friends that is so made of spring and honey that you wish to miss none of it.

“Someone is lurking,” George contemplates out loud, and the call goes silent for a second as if to look for the intruder. And it would so easy to flinch, to hit the back pedal, because you almost feel like one being exposed front stage like that. But today- today is not that day.

It's not that you don't want to join the discussion, it's that it takes a second to warm up, to absorb the energy and become one with it.

And sometimes, all it takes is Sapnap to exclaim, “Panini head, my beloved!” for your smile synchronizes with his chuckles. Somehow, once noticed by the right person, life flows back naturally.

George and Dream greets you in trailing unison, like two kids forced to greet their unwelcomed aunt on a sunday afternoon.

“H-hey troublemakers,” you finally say. Your voice is still quiet, not reluctant, but rather uncertain. It doesn't bother anyone.

“I’m beating Dream’s ass at chess and he’s bitter,” Sap explains, and you silently nod, as if they were able to see you.

A long silence follows along, rythmed by clicks of mouses and keyboards and it falls in your ears like high droplets. It's comfortable. It's intimate, shared with friends only.

"We haven't heard from you in a while," Dream says. "I mean ... before the clout fiasco."

You wouldn't exactly call it a fiasco, even though you don't really like the idea of being perceived a little too closely from the eyes of twitter.com, but you do agree anyway, "I've been caught up on college essays lately."

"That sucks," George probably adds.

“Good thing you’re here, then,” Dream notes, simple as a breath. “This is a worry-free zone.”

It hovers for a second, carried by George’s approval hum.

You squint suspiciously, detective mode, at the profile pictures that light on and off before your eyes, “Thanks, dream.”

He scoffs a “sure” and you’re not sure why you sense a bit of irony stuck on the back of his teeth. You're so tempted to call him out, but you don't. Instead, you write a mental note of this odd moment.

“It’s because I told him about your three brothers and now he’s scared they’re gonna find him and kick his ass,” Sap explains as if he just read your mind.

Sometimes, there’s this thing in the air, though you’re miles away. Something like a connection. There’s this thing when you don’t need to talk for Sap to understand. Sharing one brain cell, you dismiss ironically. Probably coincidences and predictability, but it always sounds a little special, a little like something you’d wish to be out of this world, like morning dew and fairy circles. And it makes you feel safe, at home, just like snuggling up in the sheets during a stormy night. Your smile washes up the sleeve of your hoodie, covered palm carefully hiding your chuckles.

“Three older brothers,” George muses, and there’s no telling if it’s something meant for you to hear. “That’s kinda scary.”

“You better be scared, one of them is probably your FBI agent,” you tease mindlessly, though there's nothing scary about those three grown men.

“I’m British, Bunny,” he points out. Whether the exasperation in his tone is fake or genuine, that, you can’t tell, but you play it cool, grin carved so deep it almost hurts. Dream’s wheezes rise and fall in the background.

“Say that to his face then,” you outbid smirkingly after a second of silence, heels growing into the carpet to make your chair spin slowly left and right, so breezily.

“I’d praise you for the rest of my life if you-Oooooooh your ass is wacked. Your ass is so wacked, dude. You fucked up so bad,” Sapnap chokes out between strings of giggles.

“Oh no, my streamer is losing his game?” You theatrically pout. “My streamer Dreamwastaken, have you met him? Guess you don’t need any of my brothers to kick your ass.”

“Okay yeah- no- it’s not my fault if your- they’re distracting me, okay?” Dream defends.

Slowly, the energy lowers again and the call remembers peace as Dream admits defeat.

“I’m not playing against you anymore,” he mumbles through greeted teeth, your hoodie shelters a muffled giggle. “Let’s talk about y/n’s twitter fame instead.”

“Let’s just not-” you mutter, both because seeing Dream lose at something is a miracle that has to be witnessed once and because you’re somewhat reluctant. “Let’s just not talk about that.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I had no idea it would draw this much attention to you,” Sap admits.

“Well, you talk about her all the time it was only a matter of time before twitter finds out,” George taunts and you secretly smile, listening to the way your best friend tries to defend himself, mind flooded with the last memories you have of when you were able to see those chuckles for real.

“Yeah, Quackity already told me you guys talk behind my back,” you fakely muse. “That’s totally fine, I don’t wanna know what you guys are talking about at all.” It’s a lie, obviously, the idea creeps upon your mind with assumptions you can’t quite get a grip of nor let go.

“You and Quackity talk?’ Sapnap asks, hint of surprise, and you hum.

“Or rather, he talks to me. He keeps calling-.” Shit. The forsaken word traps itself into your mouth. It’s too silly anyway.

“Come on, just say it,” Dream pushes as if he knew too much, more than you even do, and your cheeks flush mindlessly. You don’t notice.

“Dream, quit it!” You demand.

“Quit what?”

“You talk as if you knew more than anyone did.”

“Maybe I just do,” he coos, so dream-like.

Oblivious or careless, Sapnap asks, “Is Quackity bothering you or something?”

“He-" you begin but stop to look for the right way to put it, "He triggers my flight or fight response.”

"I mean, duh," Sapnap probably rolls his eyes.

"But I like him. He's funny."

After a second of silence, George says, “Well that was unexpected.”

“Not so much, I think we’re both chaotic neutral people.”

“What is that neutral chaotic thing anyway?” Dream is confused.

Roll up your sleeve girl boss because now is your time to shine! You offer your best dream smp alignment chart to the classroom. They're speechless, but they listen carefully.

"Then you're more chaotic good than neutral. You're too sweet anyway," Sap says.

"I'd even say lawful good," George debates.

"That's because you haven't seen Bunny during her crazy cat hour."

"True," you note.

"She'll go absolutely batshit."

“What?" George burst between confusion and surprise. "We've never seen you like that."

"A lady never reveal her secrets," you retort. No one answer.

It leaves a second for your mind to enjoy peace. For your eyes to lay on c!tubbo on lawful good and think true, then on c!dream on chaotic evil and think also very true. You huff and it's like a wave; as sarcasm leaves your breath, an idea comes in.

"Sap, check your DMs," you request.

Surrounded by the evening lull, Sapnap’s laugh pops like soap bubbles, "God, you’re so stupid. Why can't you just marry me?"

“So, is it Sapnap approved?” You chuckle lightly to prevent Sapnap’s morning fresh laugh to fill your chest and leak everywhere.

“Just press ‘send tweet’ please,” he confirms with leftovers of a smile in his voice.

"George, get me out of here. They're doing it again," Dream whines.

"Doing what?" He asks, unbothered.

"Act like they're alone in the convo. Just get a room." And you don't get to stand up for yourself that you and your best friend are actually sent to another room.

"Well this one is chaotic evil confirmed," you mumble as you roll your eyes but the vibes are much peaceful, much more comfortable in here. "So ... hi."

"Hi," he chuckles in return.

Maybe that's for the best; a moment that needs to stay a little timeless, secretive and special. It hasn't happened in so long, you don't even remember the last time it did.

"I'm glad you're here. I miss you, you know?" He says, and it's hard to not feel so bittersweet about it. It's hard when longing involves a craved touch, a real smile and an eye contact. Your shoulder sinks in the chair a little harder.

"I miss you too. I'll be here soon," you promise. And soon couldn't come any sooner.

But the conversation, soft and free, will wash up any worries, as always, and you'll end up talking about everything and nothing, about streams and planned videos and college and god knows what. As long as it makes the two of you happy and smiling. Just like the old days, you'll both think and it's fair to say until the evening turns into night and night turns into fatigue.

"Are you sure you're okay about that clout?" He asks once again. "I know you don't like being exposed like that."

"Yeah, yeah don't worry too much about it. I'll try to make good use of it."

"I'm sure you will," he murmurs, but oh boy did he not know what was about to come until you two meet.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・　　 .・゜゜・　　・゜゜・

Taglist : @open-minded-chip-101 ; @itsoakaa ; @gaysludge

A/N : so first of all it has come to my attention that 129 days from now on is actually my birthday so that's a weird coincidence lol. Hi how are you guys?? welcome to the first part I hope you liked it. I'm fairly new to the mcyt community and that's the first time I write for them, so bear with me. Feedbacks are always appreciated. Until next time (ɔˆ ³(��⌣ˆc)

[eppysboys]

hi eppy !! do you know how the boys were like as students? as in, their behavior and academic performance? i think i have a general idea lol but i just wanted to know if there is something else you know:))

Hi darling! I apologise for the lack of links to sources and ugly formatting, tumblr is being a bit silly and not allowing me to do anything?? Sorry about that!

George:

I think as clever as we know George was, his distaste for the institute was very strong. He was disappointed that the school's music programs didn't offer enough/any guitars, which was his primary love. His focus was on music/guitars completely. I remember reading he used to just draw guitars in his notebooks at school (he was smitten!)

"George, on the other hand, hated school and all the teachers, simply hated the Institute with a passion. He refused to work ("it's impossible to judge this boy's work because he hasn't done any" says one of his reports), he hated the dress code and deliberately wore as many colourful items as he could get away with under the uniform, transforming himself into the Institute's tiniest teen rebel, and he hated a lot of the other students. Paul's actual younger brother Michael, also at the Liverpool Institute at the time, comments: 'One of his new friends was George Harrison, who at this time was a bit of a joke at school because he wore his hair so long. And the more the kids laughed and jeered, the longer George let his hair grow. I think in the end he'd have let it grow below his knees if they hadn't all got fed up and left off jeering at him.'" (x)

John:

We know young John was a little bookworm, reading beyond his years and had a keen interest in art and writing in particular. He clearly had a lot of energy and when the subject didn't interest him he created mischief. He did end up failing his O levels by a few points, his interest in school just wasn't there.

1956 report card from Quarry Bank High School for Boys in Liverpool:

In art college John was much the same, and relied on Stuart Sutcliffe tutoring him after class on all the things the teachers had just said. There were certain teachers that did encourage him and try and guide him down the right path, but I think John was just very restless, a tad insecure and simply not right for the traditional academic route, despite his intelligence.

Paul:

"Before the double whammy of his mother dying and meeting John Lennon, Paul was a good student ("I ruined Paul's life," John informed Ray Connolly once; "he could have been a teacher, you know"), and fond enough of some of his teachers to rave about one of them, Alan Durband, decades later. ("I had the greatest teacher ever of English literature, called Alan Durband, who was a leading light in the Everyman Theatre, when Willie Russell and everybody were there. He led the fund raising. He'd been taught at Cambridge by F. R. Leavis and used to talk glowingly of him. And he communicated his love of literature to us, which was very difficult because we were Liverpool sixteen-year-olds, 'What d'fuck is dat der?' He'd actually written a ten-minute morning story for the BBC, so I respected this guy. He was nice, a bit authoritarian, but they all had to be in our school because we would have gone had they not held us. We needed holding. He was a good guy. "

“I got to know Paul McCartney in my last two years at the Liverpool Institute. I had seen him around, but I didn’t know him very well. Someone dug me in the ribs and said, ‘We’re in for a couple of good years here,’ because Paul already had a reputation for being a guy who could create quite a bit of mayhem. Butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. He was able to turn it on and off. He could look as sweet as an angel just after he’d done the most incredibly disruptive things, and usually the blame went to someone else.” Iain Taylor, The Beatles: An Oral History

"McCartney was not much of a student, Taylor, a retired history teacher, recalled. In fact, he left on a trip to Hamburg before the finals. Taylor remembers McCartney as "quite a character."

"I still have very vivid memories that I'm trying to put down in this history of the school. He was very artistic, a left-hander, and he wasn't particularly good in the early part of his school days with mathematics and science. He hated organized sports and games. He was a bit of an anarchist and wouldn't participate," Taylor said.

"He seemed to excel verbally in being able to mimic the teachers, but do it quietly so the teachers didn't hear but everybody else did. He was kind of a rebel," Taylor said.

Harrison and McCartney were among the youngest boys to hang out in the smokers' corner, a spot out of sight of the teachers.

"George Harrison was beaten many times for many things. Paul McCartney was usually quite skilled at negotiating his way around things without feeling the consequences," Taylor said.

The cafeteria had an interesting reverb and McCartney spent his lunch hours drumming out Little Richard songs.

"I nearly did very well at grammar school but I started to get interested in art instead of academic subjects," Many Years From Now

So clearly Paul was a really intelligent kid with a rebellious streak who had his head turned by music and that's where he decided all his interest would go to. His parents wanted him to be a doctor/scientist, and provided him with all the support and encouragment he needed to excel. He was reading encyclodpedias and solving crosswords left and right, and many teachers and students commented on his artistic and academic abilities.

Ringo:

Ringo's schooling life was constantly interrupted by illness and hospital visits. He simply did not have the oppurtunities the others did, being the poorest and obviously so ill so often.

"Ritchie is not learn to read until he was nine years old when he was taught by a friend of his mother, the daughter of Annie Marie Maguire. Later attended Dingle Vale secondary modern; he left at the age of thirteen due to him being so behind."

He talked later about being self conscious about not knowing as much, or not speaking as well as others could. But Ringo was/is a very smart guy, and has always had a really wonderful attitude towards learning new things which I personally admire a great deal.

[george-fabian-weasley]

diving deep down — g.w.

Summary: Sometimes you just needed to know that you’re not alone in this world.

Words: 1,726 words

Warnings ⚠ : TW implied depression, TW mental health, TW drowning, mentions of lack of breath, TW implied suicide, Read At Your Own Risk, platonic!george, neutral!reader, mentions of crying, Angst, Happy ending (sort of), comfort!au

Disclaimer: I am sad for a few days now so here I am, writing yet another comfort fic. Please note that if you’re struggling and you need someone to talk to, my messages is always open for you. I love you all so much, you’re not alone. Comments andReblogs are appreciated, enjoy!

masterlist! | general taglist! | buy me a coffee!

It was a quiet night at the Astronomy Tower, most of the students had gone to sleep and there were very few prefects patrolling the school hallways.

You felt at peace.

There was just something about being alone on the Astronomy Tower that feels so... intimate. At this point, it had become a personal spot for you to just come and lay down on the floor, and stare up to the sky. Sometimes the sky would give you a show, a comet shower on rare days or a bright full moon on the other. And sometimes even the sky needs rest, yet still gifting you a night of clouds and rain, lullabying your thoughts to slumber.

Nothing to do up here actually, but that’s what you desired. To do nothing, to wait for nothing, to talk nothing, to be expected of nothing, to expect nothing. In the life of yours that is full of ups and downs like merciless tidal waves of the bottomless ocean crashing upon your small wooden ship, doing absolutely nothing is the spine that holds your sanity in a piece.

In peace.

None of your friends knew about this spot of yours when you're stressed or disheveled, or simply need some time alone. But you're quite fond of it; the thought of them not knowing. Don't get me wrong, you absolutely adore your friends, but alone time is needed very badly for a while. To just be yourself and calm down without the bickering noises or the loud laughter or the constant jabs or the playful sneers.

What you didn't know, though, was one of your friends had kept his eye on you. Every week after dinner, you would always disappear right after dinner to Godric knows where. And George always wondered where you’ve had been.

"So this is where you disappear to every other night," George's voice startled you as you flinched slightly. "Bloody hell, Weasley..." You groaned as you massaged your chest, trying to ease your fast-beating heart from the shock.

"Sorry 'bout that," George muttered and cleared his throat, walking over to sit next to you. You watched him sit down and looked up to the tower's internal dome, "Wow, someone hasn't dusted that ceiling for a while."

You rolled your eyes at his quiet remark, you assumed he's talking to himself in the hushed tone he did. "So, what do you do here?" He asked you, turning to you curiously.

“Nothing.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Nothing like... literally or figuratively?” You sighed quietly, “Literally nothing. I just like to lay down here, stare up to the ceiling or the skies, and take a break from everything,” You briefly explained.

You laid down on your back, hands on the back of your head as you stare up to the dark sky. You saw from the corner of your eyes that he followed you suit, laying down beside you with his arms as his headrest. You glanced at him, he was looking up to the sky with a blank expression, causing you to furrow your eyebrows.

You had expected him to say ‘How boring’ or any other sassy remark, but George just stayed silent, being by your side without any other word. And when he did speak, all he said was:

“Do you mind if I join you any other time?”

You pursed your lips at his ask of permission. As much as you would like to have company, the Astronomy Tower has become your safe space for a long while. Suddenly sharing it with someone else, and whisk away the peacefulness and serenity, you only fear for the tidal waves to grow bigger by time; before swallowing you whole like a beast it is created to become.

“I... I don’t know, George. I like it when it’s just me up here,” You answered honestly, sighing heavily, “Let’s just say that this spot is my safe space, and by sharing my safe space with someone, I might lose my mind.”

“I-I don’t expect you to understand so I don’t care if—” “I do understand, so don’t sweat about it.” “... What?” George turned to you with a smile, “I understand, Y/N. You don’t need to explain it to me, I get it,” He said gently, before turning his head back to the sky.

“Sometimes... A safe space is all you need to escape for a while; to make sure that you won’t run away for good.”

You looked at him with narrowed eyes, “Do-do you...” You trailed off, not wanting to say what it was in your mind. It’s impossible, George has everything he wanted in his life, fame, a loving family, loyal friends, great pranks. His life is incredible.

But with only a somber look he sent your way, you figured that you might be wrong.

“George...” You trailed off, not knowing what else to say. He uncomfortably chuckled, “You know, sometimes I think to myself, why do I feel like this? When I have an amazing family, a supportive twin brother, great friends, and incredible pranks to accomplish. But what I learned over the past few years...” He paused, licking his lips slowly.

“... is that the monster chooses randomly. It chooses without criteria, without any care of the good things in your life. If it chooses you, then so be it.”

You wish to say you don’t know what he’s talking about. But you do, oh you do very well. 

“... You could be having a wonderful time with your friends, and when it touches you, everything vanishes and all you could think of are the bad thoughts,” You spoke quietly. George turned to you, huffing a sad smile at the mere thought of you understanding him. 

So you’re like him.

“Yeah, what an arsehole,” George tried to joke to lighten up the mood, but the smile on his lips didn’t really last long. “... I don’t even know why it chooses me. Out of all people in the world, it chooses me to be the host of these-these crumbling thoughts...” You continued, eyebrows furrowing at the frustration brewing inside of you.

“And they stayed,” George muttered. You sighed, “For a while, too.” George huffed a cynical smile, “It’s giving us such a cruel game to play. Winning or losing, but at what cost?” You blinked slowly, feeling your heart ache heavily at the thought of your friend suffering as much as you do, or even more than you thought.

“... Everything.”

“Truth to be told...” You trailed off, gulping at the nerves you had to say this sudden confession to George. “I think I’m losing the game,” You whispered, wishing to God that he wouldn’t hear you so you won’t have to repeat yourself.

“Why would you feel that?” His soft voice didn’t do you any justice.

“At first, I found the feelings as silly, so I brushed them away,” You bit your lips, still debating whether you should tell him or not. Whether you should burden him with your feelings or not. “I kept getting these thoughts one by one and I thought I can endure it but it just,” You find your eyebrows furrowing at the lump of your throat growing bigger and bigger, “it keeps coming and coming and coming until I had to accept them all at some point at the same time and I just... I felt so out of breath,” The words coming out of your mouth were getting faster as time passed by as if if you don’t let them out in time, they’ll never come back out again.

The dams of your tears had broken down. Your chest was heaving up and down without rhythm and you felt your lungs constricting all the air you had.

“They’re- they’re choking me and I can’t breathe I- I feel like I’m drowning, I’m diving deep down in the ocean and-and I can’t swim and slowly and slowly and slowly I- I can’t see the light anymore and I- I’m losing the game, George! I’m losing the game-” Your voice had cracked and you were sobbing on the floor, the desperation in your voice was so painful for George to hear, he felt like your words had created a mirror; broken down into little pieces of sharp-edged glass. And each one of them had struck him straight into his heart.

But his hand gripped yours securely.

You looked down to the intertwined hands, and you looked up at him already staring at you, “You’re not losing the game, Y/N,” His voice; firm yet trembling, the glint in his eyes tells you that he’s saying this not only for you, but for himself as well, “You’re fighting it.”

“You’re fighting it, and you are so strong for doing so. The cruelest game to be created, and you’re fighting through it. You’re fighting, like the fighter you are,” George’s sudden words of encouragement caused you to feel your chest constricting. Your eyes suddenly feel heavy with teardrops, you felt heard. You felt needed. You felt supported.

So with tears still rolling down your cheeks, you squeezed George’s hands, “Like the fighters we are,” You voiced out, a small, quivering smile on your lips. George felt warmth in his insides, grateful to have an understanding and supportive friend like you. He nodded and cracked a wide grin; amidst all the tears rolling down and wetting the floor, “Like the fighters we are.”

You stared at his bloated eyes and red nose, smiling to yourself gratefully, “I don’t know how you do it,” You said honestly. “What? Staying alive? I’m scraping on the floor,” George deadpanned, causing you to laugh at the sudden brutal honesty.

George scoffed a curious smile at you, wiping away his tears, “Is my agony funny to you?” You couldn’t stop laughing so you only nodded, causing you to be shoved at the shoulder with a dramatic “Hey!”

It only caused you to laugh more, unfortunately for George.

He watched as you laughed at him, and without him knowing it, he was laughing with you. As the both of you calmed down, you smiled gratefully at him, your hand squeezing his again, “At least we’re not diving deep down in the ocean.”

“Well, this time,” George turned back to the sky, the first genuine smile on his lips of the night, “We’ll fight our best not to.”

TAGLIST:

@multifandom-but @sirenswhispers @lilac-skies-xd @obsessedunicorn24 @foggyturtleknightangel@evewithluv@softlyqoos @fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13 @lilypad-55449 @fiantomartell @hopemalfoyweasley @just-here-to-escape-from-reality​ @bucketandpotato@klausdatprettyboi @adoregin @littlechillies @phuvioqhile @sweetnspicysimp @wand3ringr0s3 @harrypotter289 @emptyporsche @tallyovie @the-unmanaged-mischief @missmulti @gcdricreads ​ @moonvicake @amourtentiaa @lunalovecroft @loveboyhalo @lupinsclassroom @breadqueen95 @iwritesiriusly @weasleyclaw @sevsbitxh @freds-slut @acosmis-t @colorfulprofessornickelangel @vote4weasleys @anchoeritic@alluringshawn @cute-sidney@anna-banana-13 @lostaurorax @emrysts @rosietoesy @lilgeorgie78 @prismarts @an2402lths

[kerie-prince]

change of pace

Fred Weasley x Slytherin!reader

requested: (@pinkdevile) hey bae, can i request a one shot or headcanon about fred being whipped by one of ron classmates that is a non-pureblood slytherin and kind of prodigy in magic and how would he react to her being a typical dry slytherin and being a prodigy and good at everything?

summary: What happens when a red lion who lives in the moment falls for a green snake with plans for her future? Romance, of course.

a/n: stereotypical, yes but i had fun writing this :) also, i know my posting schedule keeps changing, so sorry about that 🥺 i got lots of requests (thank you guys SO much!) and i'm trying to not make them all sound the same. i'm looking up synonyms and all that stuff lol

(gif cred)

You were the least Slytherin person in your house. But maybe that's made you even more of a Slytherin. Your traits were that of a typical member of the house of snakes. No, you weren't a rude bitch; you had ambition that rivaled that of a Gryffindor and it wasn't even one of their traits. You aimed for the stars and your pride proved that you could do that and more. You are the best witch of your class, and maybe even your school.

And it was this reputation that caught the attention of someone who is quite the polar opposite. You were calm and collected. He was a wild card and unpredictable. Fred Weasley had his eyes on you and was going crazy for you. It all started when one day, he was with his friends and brothers in the Great Hall during lunch when you had walked up to Ron and Harry, “Hey Ron, were my notes able to help you?”

“Yeah, loads. Thank you, Y/N.” Lee was in the middle of a conversation with his best friends when he noticed Fred wasn't responding to anything he was saying. “Mate, you okay?” When you walked to your table, Fred scooted closer to his younger brother, “Dearest brother, how are you?”

“What do you want?” Ron saw right through him. He knew when Fred wanted something from him, just like now.

“Well I’m offended that you would assume something,” Fred held a hand over his chest with a fake offended look on his face, “can’t a person ask about the well being of his baby brother?” Ron had a deadpan expression and Harry was laughing at Fred’s exaggeration. “Fair enough. Who was that?”

“Who? Y/N? She’s in mine and Harry’s class, why?” Ron had taken a large bite from his turkey leg.

“What’s she like?” Fred inquired. Ron thought about it for a minute, “Dunno, she’s pretty quiet.”

“If I didn't know any better, I’d say that Freddie here fancies someone,” George teased. The surrounding friends laugh and point towards Fred. “I don’t fancy anyone. I’m just asking a simple question.”

Hermione and Ginny later joined the group. “What’s all this fuss about?” Hermione questioned.

“Fred’s asking about Y/L/N,” Harry caught Hermione up to speed. “Why? You’re not thinking of doing anything to her, are you?” Hermione started to scold the older boy.

“Why is it that you lot always think I’m up to no good,” Fred sighed.

“Because you’ve never been up to any good,” Ginny teased her older brother. Fred rolled his eyes and turned back to try and find you at your table. You had a couple of friends with you and a small book in your hand as you ate. Fred was determined to get your attention somehow.

✿✿✿✿✿✿

You sat in the library by yourself. You had spent the majority of the afternoon grading first years’ papers for Snape’s class and working with Hermione and Katie on a project for Ancient Runes. Giving up your weekends to study wasn't all that bad. The feeling of being on top was rewarding.

It was funny; your parents had stopped caring about your grades all together because they already knew what they were going to read. Not that they weren't supportive or proud of you. At family gatherings on your father’s side, he loved seeing the looks on his relatives’ faces when he boasted that you were the best student at Hogwarts.

But they have told you on many occasions that it wouldn't kill you to have at least one E. They wanted you to be able to have a normal teen life and have fun. Go to parties, get in trouble every now and then. You assured them that you were fine and all and even believed it yourself. You never had interest in breaking the pattern you had set.

The library was nearing its closing time and you packed your things. When you walked out the grand doors, a tall figure came in front of you and nearly knocked down all the books you carried. His hands caught whatever you couldn't hold before it hit the floor.

“Sorry about that,” you looked up at the towering boy. Your breath slightly hitched at the sight of his attractive face. His cheekbones were defined and his skin looked soft. You didn’t realize that you were staring, nor that he was also staring at you as well. Finally, he spoke up and handed you the book he was holding for you. “I believe this is for you.”

His mouth moved, but you were so distracted that it didn't occur to you he had actually said anything until you saw him looking at you expectedly. “Oh, thank you.” You started heading towards the dungeons when he jogged towards and stopped in front of you. “Aren’t you in the same class as Ron?”

“Yes, how did you know that?”

“I saw you talk to him the other day,” he told you. “I’m Fred.” He reached to shake your hands but then pulled it back when he remembered that your hands were full at the moment.

Ah, so this is Fred you thought. You've heard of him, who hasn't? Years of being at Hogwarts, tales of him and his equally devilish brother creating havoc around campus have traveled from one student to another. How you two had never seen one another until this point was surprising. It’s not like Hogwarts was a large school, but it wasn't small either.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N.” You nodded your head towards him to replace a handshake. Ten seconds of silence caused you to walk past him and return to the path to the dungeons. “W-wait!” Fred called out.

He stood in front of you once again, one of his hands positioned in front of you to block you from walking past him again. “Would you like to get a butterbeer tomorrow?”

If there was anything you didn't like, it was being put on the spot. And another thing? Your routine being disturbed. Your Sunday was all planned out. Helping Sprout with her greenhouse to earn extra house points, tutoring some younger years, and getting a head start on your homework that wasn't even due for another week.

“I’m sorry, but no.” You gave him an apologetic smile as you walked away. Once again, he ran in front of you but this time merged with you and actually caused all of your books to fall.

“Merlin, I’m so sorry,” he bent down to help you pick them up. Fred usually isn't this clumsy or nervous. He usually charms his way through anything, but he was becoming like putty out of nowhere. “Okay, well what about Honeydukes next Saturday?”

“Sorry, but no again.” You started walking away for the nth time and turned around to look at him for the last time, “Please don’t follow me again.” And you were gone. But did this mean that Fred gave up on any chance he had? No. Far from it. If anything, it gave him reason to want to try harder.

He walked all the way to the Gryffindor house and luckily found Hermione studying in the common room with Pavarti and Lavender. There was a spot open next to her and when Ginny was about to take the spot, Fred grabbed her arm and pulled her away to steal the seat.

“Um, excuse you, I was going to sit–”

“Tell me everything you can about Y/N,” Fred interrupted his sister.

✿✿✿✿✿✿

He had tried to learn as much as he could about you. Fred learned that you had the top grades. Much like Harry did, you had learned the Patronus Charm before not only before your own class, but even Fred’s charms class. Your dad's a wizard, and your mum's a muggle. But most importantly, you were a picture perfect student, and although you didn't have any apparent hobbies, you picked up just about everything with ease.

A couple of weeks had passed and every other day, Fred had made any type of excuse to come see you.

‘Oh, my next class is in this direction’ It wasn't.

‘I like that book, too!’ You were, in fact, not holding a book but your personal journal.

‘Funny running into you here!’ It was in the Great Hall during breakfast.

Now, you didn't hate these interactions. They didn't do anything to your routine, and they were actually cute attempts to get your attention. But you didn't think you had any time for anything else. Or anyone else.

“You should give him a chance, Y/N/N. Live a little. I think the top student can take a bit of time for herself at least once,” your friend Millicent advised. Astoria agreed with her, “He’s cute~.” You slightly blushed in your book and pushed their arms away.

“I’ve never been on a date before,” you whispered. The two girls looked at each other confused before turning back to look at you. “Huh?”

“I’ve never been on a date before!” You flinched when you realized your voice was louder than intended. Your friends laughed when you looked towards the Gryffindor table to make sure Fred didn't hear you. He was talking to his friends, so that meant he didn't. Only he did, but felt your eyes on him so he pretended he didn't.

“So this is the perfect reason to go out with him! Go ask him out,” Millie pushed. She was persistently tapping on your arm until you eventually stood up. You took a deep breath to gather confidence and walked towards the table of red and gold.

When Fred's eyes met yours, you turned around and walked out of the Hall. He stood up from his seat and chased after you. He kept bumping into people, including Filch in the hallways. Filch yelled for him to stop, but of course Fred ignored him and kept going.

Momentarily, he lost you in the crowd of mixed color robes until he saw you sitting by yourself on a bench under a tree. He walked towards your direction and asked you with his eyes if he could take the seat next to you. You scooted down more to let the tall boy sit down.

Neither of you said anything for a few moments. You fiddled with your fingers on your lap and he stared up at the sky. “Nice day, innit?” Fred started the conversation. “Yes, it is.”

“Good weather to go walking around Hogsmeade” Fred tried one last attempt in asking you out.

“It would be,” you accepted.

He let out a sigh in defeat, “I know I ask a lot, but maybe just this once– wait, what did you say?” You looked up at him and smiled for the first time. His heart skipped a beat and the butterflies fluttered about inside.

“I’ll go with you.” He was so excited that he jumped up and did an air punch of victory. You laughed to yourself and when he looked at you, you had an eyebrow raised. He blushed in embarrassment and scratched the back of his neck. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Promptly at 2 in the afternoon in front of the Slytherin dorms. Don’t be late,” you stood up with confidence. You walked back to the Hall to tell your friends, cheeks warmed and ears blushing. “So?” Astoria asked.

“It’s just a date, that's it,” you sounded nonchalant about it, but the smile on your face said differently. You were excited for your day with Fred and for all, unpredictable adventures to come.

A much needed change of pace.

—

requests open!

[ryuzakemo128]

The Angel Of Death

Chapter Fourteen: To Live Is To Die

A/N: Here is an idea of what Galina looked like when she was younger.

<-- Previous Chapter / Next Chapter -->

Chapter Summary: Bullet shells, dances, drinks and an unlikely union taking place. Red returns home.

Trigger Warning: Angst, Drug usage, Cursing, Mention of Death, mention of suicidal thoughts.

Red hasn't been seen in England, any largely populated part of Russia. Her current whereabouts are only known to a select few now. She travelled all the way to her old home again, to pray to the very Slavic gods she gave herself to years ago. She never knew death could have been a kindness since this began in the hopes of getting something out of it. Monetary gain is one part of it.

No one knew where she was before she went back to that place, in Russia. Not even Galina knew where her old home is. Red never returned once during that time. Grace's death took a hold of Thomas and Red took it as sign of failure to protect. So she never spoke to any of the Shelby's afterwards.

During that time, she had to mentally prepare herself to dive back in that part of England again. Red didn't know how to piece things back together. Red didn't know how to ask for help.

"George and Fred are two people that are dead that I knew from the start. Scott, Steven and Charles are now hung up like animals. I am surrounded by death, more so now than I ever have been in my life." Red felt like death warmed up to it's core, "Dancing with devils, weeping with angels instead. Dancing with the demons inside my head and break bread with angels who are well read."

"I couldn't do it, I tried ending my own life and I couldn't fucking find the will to go through with it." Red thought to herself, the hallucination of her mother becoming more and more clear, as if she blended in well through crowds of people.

"Have I lost everything mother or is this the final damnation seeking to kill me at last?" Red continued to think to herself while she slept on the train, around Russian places, only stepping off for a few days and once she decided to return to Small Heath, she received a message that Galina would be at her home waiting for her.

Her mother whispered into her ear, "You know for a fact that you're not done yet. It's your curse after all, both you and your father are Slavic Pagans."

"So were you mother, so were you" Red thought to herself, "At one point before, before they hauled you off kicking screaming to baptize you like one of theirs. Only you never were and you will never be theirs mother. You will never be theirs."

"Your father never shows himself to you, for a good reason love"

"What reason might that be?"

"That he never seems to have a clue of what to say to you. You're so much like him in ways that scares him" Her mother continued to whisper in her ear. "He's the voice in your head and fighting spirit in your bones. Continue like we would love,"

"I'll try my best to do just that mother, don't you worry about that." Red thought to herself as she arrived back to Small Heath and walked straight to her small home. Where her friend and business partner were waiting for her.

"Galina, I got your message-" Galina punched Red in the red causing Red to stumble back, both in shock, fright and confusion.

"You left me worrying about you Red, you didn't say anything for months and you show up here like you never left in the first place." Galina shoved Red inside her home, "I'm pretty sure Mister Shelby will have words with you. I hope your sober enough to both hear and understand them"

"I haven't drunk anything while I was in Russia or even before I got here." Red responded, "So believe it or not, I'm sober and I haven't had more than five hours of sleep a night. So cut me a little slack in that department please?"

"You never failed in this side of business have you" Galina says ignoring what Red said before scoffing, "You never know when to quit do you?"

"Probably not until I'm dead," Red responds with a slight smirk and continued to talk as Thomas Shelby walked inside her home.

"Where the fuck were you?" Thomas asked Red.

"I went home, not the one you think you know about Thomas, the one I grew up in. I went there to see if my parents had answers to the question I had after your wife died." Red started explaining, "I'm afraid they came to a conclusion that no I'm not. Even though I feel compelled to say I absolutely am."

"I have no clue what she's on about, so don't look at me." Galina says to Thomas Shelby.

"I have failed to protect both you and your wife, mister Shelby. Therefore, I ask you kindly to get your gun out and kill me"

"No. Red I will not being doing any of that."

"I will continue to ask you kindly to do so, I have failed the both of you. Unlike the other side of my business, I take pride in my ability to protect other people." Red continued to speak, "I don't think you understand the nature of my request even after I asked for it. Now do you?"

"No, no I do not and nor do I want to"

"Why might I ask?"

"Because you never fucking failed, in your eyes you might have. In mine you did everything you could have in that scenario Red."

"I doubt that with full certainty, I doubt that quite a bit."

"I know you do Red, I say this on behalf of George and Fred." Galina points out, "that you have been more caring and loving than they anticipated. When they died, I was told to pass on their final words to you and Thomas Shelby."

"For Thomas Shelby, "Hurt Red and we peck your eyes as Ravens or even crows." and For red, "You're enough Red, you'll always be good enough. I know for a fact that you will loose sleep over our deaths and Fred says he might hate you for it. Might hate you for it, if you don't let go of it."

"You're seeing hallucinations of your mother again" Galina says to her, "You went to the hallucinated version of your mother instead of talking to me."

"You were with Masha and the others, I couldn't bring that mess to you." Red replied looking away from her, "That mess being me if you haven't gotten the hint."

"I certainly have, by the looks of things you have more explaining to do. But now that I'm here, why don't we sit and you can tell us the entire truth this time yeah?"

"As you wish Thomas."

[devilbat]

Quarantine Online

A/N: sorry I have been MIA for months now. A lot has going on in my life and Depression sucks, making it hard to write, so forgive me.

Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Warnings: Just fluff

Summery: dating is hard it's even harder when a Pandemic happens.. 

     The picture you stared at only showed a well-toned lean body in a well-tailored suit. Most of the photographs showed the same, never his face. His name was Tom 39 years old, living in London. Though he dose travels a lot for work. Shakespeare fanatic, runner, enjoys cooking, long walks with his dog when he's not running and lots and lots of dancing. Six foot one, six foot two on a good day. Who was testing the waters out there, but will be the perfect gentleman and very respectful.

        His profile stated as you looked through it. He had messaged you right as you thought about giving up once again. Everyone on these dating apps only wanted one of two things. Nudes or sex nothing more. No connection, no relationship, not even a friendship. Sure, you were offered friends with benefits.

That was something you were not looking for. Did it not state in your profile that you weren't going to do any of that. Do men even read?

       The few dates you have gone on all ended up a bust. Then the quarantine happened right as you were getting yourself out there. So it was conversations via text. But soon you were ghosted far too many times because you wouldn't send nude.

        You were all about to shut down your account when this man named Thomas H. sent you a message. You weren't even sure why you click on the email from this man without a face. Here you were reading what he had to say.

       Y/n,

           My name is Thomas, but naturally, I go by Tom. I'm sure you might not even respond to this as there is no face to this profile. With my job and for my privacy would be one of many reasons why. But I thought I might give it a shot. And I have to say I'm quite mesmerized by your beauty. You are quite lovely, and I'm sure you get that a lot. But I genuinely mean it. I was a bit fascinated by your profile as I read it, might have had chucked at a few bits of it. I would like to know more about you.

       Like what type of nerd are you? Marvel or DC?

Star Wars or Star Trek? And of course, I'll answer any questions you might have for me. As well I would not ask for any pictures of you clothed or nude as I would like to get to know you as I'm hoping you wouldn't mind getting to know me without the nudes as you put it. Ehehe.

     I genuinely hope to hear from you. But understand if I don't.

Sincerely, Tom.

    Ps, I do hope this quarantine hasn't made you gone completely bonkers.

       Usually, you wouldn't have responded, but something about him told you not to pass this up. What was the worst that could happen that already hasn't happened on an online dating app? Well, there was always the fact he could be a serial killer.

       Hello Tom,

    You may have messaged me in time I was about to give up on this site and return to my habit.  Marvel all the way. I would hope you would agree or we can't continue talking. Though, I can't deny that DC needs to just stop with Batman movies. The should have stopped before George Clooney. Though I will give Christian Bale props, he did a better job than Clooney.

         As for Star Wars and Star Trek? That is a tough one, so I'm just going to say both are good. But let's face it. Captain Kirk is the better star fleet Captain. Sure Picard is excellent as well. But anyone after them just doesn't do it for me. Ha ha..

     And it's all about Baby Yoda. If you are not a baby Yoda fan, you're just wrong. Yes, I'm one of "those" girls.

Coffee or Energy drinks? I would say I dabbled in both. Pancakes or waffles? Yes, there is a difference. I'm a waffle girl myself. Well, that is all I can think of right now.

Y/n.

You hit send before setting your phone down on the table next to you as you yawned. Maybe it was an early bedtime, not like you had anything better to do. You puddled around your usual routine before bed. A loud ding brought you back to your phone.

"That was quick." Recognizing the chim of the app all too well. Grebing your phone, forgetting your face cream as you were curious about what he had to say—settling into bed, getting comfortable before you opened your phone.

Y/n,

I'm delighted to hear from you. If I'm quite bold, and for starters, its tea for me. With two sugars and a splash of cream. As for waffles or pancakes, I'm French toast kind of man, duh. Lol. Though you can't beat a good old fashion English Breakfast and a side of Earl gray. Eheh.

I'm quite a fan of marvel though it is a rather vast universe. What movies/comics praytell do you prefer?

Sorry love to disappoint, but I'm going to say Doctor Who I am British. The tenth and the eleventh doctor. I do hope you've seen the show. I used to watch the reruns of the original with my father when I was a young wide eye lad. I am a fan of both Star Wars and Star Trek. And there is nothing wrong with liking a baby Yoda. He is exceedingly loveable.

          It says your new to England, where are you from originally? How long have you've been here? Seen any of the sights England has to offer?

       That's all for now.

Sincerely, Tom.

          Emails went on for weeks talking back and forth first on the dating app than via text. You were the one to leap by giving him your number. After hitting send your phone vibrated with a text.

         Unknown number: Hello love, this is Tom. I'm delighted to receive your text.

        More weeks had passed. Still, you had yet to see his face though he did send you photos of random things during the day. You did the same as your toes sticking out from the bubble bath. Then you got a text of his toes sticking out from under the blankets. The two of you would watch a movie together. The quarantine was still in effect. Each of you would pick a film out every other weekend and sit back and watch it—text throughout the movie.

          Y/n: Omg did she just run up the stairs like a dumb big boobed bimbo!!! She makes the rest of us look bad.

Tom: Eheh, you said it darling, not me. Though I think she might survive this.

Y/n: Wanna make a beat? I think she will die within the next few minutes.

Tom: Oh, it's on. Now, what do I get if I win?

Y/n: Whatever it is you want cause mister you are going to lose.

You both patiently wanted to see what happens next. The movie ended, and you waited in annoyance for Tom to respond to gloat about being right. And to see what he desired for his spoils of war.

Tom: Well, Love, it looks like I have won this round.

Y/n: It seems you have butthead. What is it that the winner wishes for?

Tom: Did you just call me a butthead? Eheh. Hmm, let's see. How about a Skype date? I figured it was about time to reveal myself.

Y/n: Tom, I just meet you. I'm not sure I'm ready to see your eggplant. Haha.

Tom: I probably should have rephrased that better. My face love, my face. Eheh. Tomorrow at 7 pm?

Nervous was an understatement. You had cleaned your whole flat even if you were going to stay on the couch, laptop resting on a large pillow setting on your coffee table. You sat playing with your hair, unsure if you wanted it up or down. A chim from your computer startled you from straightening out your dress you finally had settled on. Soon a well-tailored suited chest came on screen.

       "Hold on, darling, trying to adjust this blood screen." The deep British, very attractive yet somehow familiar voice rang through the computer speakers. You only assumed it belongs to Tom.

           You watched the man attempting to fiddle with the view, cursing ever so quietly. Making you giggle relaxing a little bit more. Your laughing came to an abrupt halt when Tom's face came into Focus. Your jaw dropped. And now the unmistakable "ehehe" came in to play as you stared at none other the most eligible bachelor in England none other than loki himself Tom Hiddleston.

           "Darling, I think your drooling." Tom teased point to the side of his clean, shaved face. Tom fidgeted with his now raven-colored hair.

          "Oh, I-I," You stammered out, trying to compose yourself.

           "Didn't see this coming did you?" Tom smiled, wetting his lips with that blasted tongue of his.

           "Well, no. I wasn't expecting Tom

Hiddleston."

           "Is that a bad thing?" Tom spoke up.

           "Oh, no, no. I would be an idiot to say it was. Hey, wait a minute. I've told you that, that, that. Shit." You muttered.

          "That I was your hall pass if given a chance. Eheh. Well, it looks like you'll have had wasted your hall pass privileges. You only get one and can't use it on someone if you are already seeing them."

        "You know, sir, you are still a butthead." You stuck out your tongue at the man.

        "You do like calling me that. Why are you calling me a butthead this time?" Tom grinned.

              Your time with Tom was extraordinary, the two of you talked throughout most of the night. He told you things you never knew about the actor every woman pined over. Here you were, the one woman out of a billion he seems to fancy.

           "Well, love." Tom cooed as he watched you try not to nod off to sleep. "I should let you sleep."

         "I'm sorry." You muttered sleepily.

          "Do not apologize, my dear. I should be the one to apologize I've kept you up most of the night.” Tom smiled softly. He watched as you rub your eyes, a shy smile softly graced your lips. Making Tom’s heart flutter.

”Perhaps, my dear, would you like to meet for coffee at the cafe that opened back up?” Tom hummed in high hopes.

”Hmm, I don't know.” You smiled, trying hard to look like you were contemplating though you were going to say yes. To hell with this virus, it was Tom Hiddleston asking you to coffee.

”I mean, I'll wear a mask and stay six feet if needed.” Tom added quickly.

”No, no, there is no need for that. I don't mind unless you feel like it's needed.” You pipped up—Tom grind like a fool shaking his head no.

[lewis-winters]

(gif by @lyselkatzfandomluvs)

oh? me? writing about single dad!lewis who is a disaster human being but a good dad to a precocious little girl named Bea who adores him but at the same time thinks her daddy is the silliest person to ever exist?

you bet your ASS i am.

anyway, here have this headcanon list:

Bea is Lew's little girl from a one night stand. her mom didn't want to abort, but she didn't want to keep her, either. Lew considered putting her up for adoption, but the second the doctors let him hold her he knew that that just wasn't an option.

at that point, Lew never really knew what love was. not really. but looking down at that lil bundle in his arms that resembled more a bean than human, he decided then and there that that is exactly what true love feels like.

Bea is AMAB and has always known she was a girl. Lew always indulged her, especially when she finally learned how to talk and walk and have opinions. if Bea said she wanted to wear a dress or play with dolls or grow out her hair, he'd let her and he'd sass down anybody that let her feel like she couldn't. bc of that, Bea never thought that she was anything but a girl for ages.

i mean, the only thing she truly hated was her name. bc it was a boy's name and was therefore very ugly.

when she was four, she told Lew and everybody that would listen that she wanted to be called Beatrix-with-an-X instead of the name they gave her. she heard it on tv one day and loved it so much, she just decided to use it and that was that.

I wouldn't say Lew didn't have his moments of crisis over it-- he had a whole paradigm shift, and he definitely had to read up some stuff and talk to people, but he never let Bea know it. that's his baby girl. and he loves her. he'd never forgive himself if he'd ever let her feel otherwise.

he calls her BumbleBea on a regular basis, but in his head and when referring to her to anybody else, he calls her Little Miss Nixon

occassionally Little Miss Hypochondriac if she's being particularly fussy that day

bc Bea is VERY fussy

she's under the belief that her daddy doesn't take care of himself very much. she is right. Lew does not like to admit it.

she prepares his vitamins and reminds him to drink water and eat his veggies

they take care of each other a lot

Lew makes sure Bea does her homework and is polite and gets dressed real nice and is making the right friends

Bea makes sure Lew remembers to brush his teeth or eat breakfast or drink water or dress up warm during the winter

their little mantra in the morning is--

Lew: Be good, but if you need to be bad--

Bea: Don't get caught!

Bea also understands sarcasm a bit too well for a baby child

Lew says it's the natural Nixon gene. Blanche says it's bc Bea spends way too much time with Lew.

Bea calls Lew two things: Daddy, on the regular, and Dada when she wants to be cuddled or carried or held or comforted

Lew has NO idea why she does, but every time he hears her call him Dada while holding out her arms in a silent request to be picked up, he melts into a puddle

George, Lew's old college buddy and Bea's godfather, and Blanche are her regular babysitters. she loves them both so much but she definitely loves Blanche more because when she's with Aunt Blanche she gets presents

George treats her like a mini adult, which just kinda reinforces why she's so fluent in sarcasm to begin with or why she's half as mischievous as she is.

Bea is a morning person. Lew is a night owl. when Bea was a baby, this was definitely a problem, bc she'd have Lew running to her side at 3 am, so much so that he just moved her bassinet to his room and then just little by little let her migrate to his bed and let her serve as his alarm clock.

but when she started to walk and talk and become big enough to do things on her own, they've come up with a system where she'd get up, try her best to make Lew coffee, then wake him up with kisses

the coffee is never good but Lew swallows it down anyway

Lew is very good at braiding hair for some reason

Bea always did say that her Daddy is fit to be a stay at home husband bc he keeps track of their household stuff better than his at work stuff

Lew doesnt work at the plant-- Stanhope didn't like the name Beatrix, let's just say. Lewis told him to go fuck himself. thankfully before doing that, he saved enough money to sustain him and Bea until he could find a job. also, he has a group of very good friends and an amazing sister who stuck by him and Bea, so really, leaving Nixon behind to get a fresh new start in New York with his baby girl was the best decision he has ever made

(Lew always says Bea saved him somehow-- taking care of another human being helped him learn, little by little, how to take care of himself. how to function. he wants to be a better man for Bea, wants to be able to be somebody she's proud of. and by wanting that and doing everything to be that, he's managed to heal himself. day by day. it hasn't been easy. but it has been worth it.)

(he still drinks, though. but never in front of Bea. and never more than a glass. he can't afford to go down that road right now. not with Bea.)

Bea meets Dick first. she's seven years old in a brand new school being run by her dad's college friend and her godmother, Kitty and Dick, fresh from his last tour in Iraq, is there to visit Kitty's boyfriend and fellow teacher, Harry, who is his old college buddy.

Bea likes Mr Winters very much and talks about him to Lew when she gets home

Dick, of course, is easily charmed by this precocious lil girl with an inquisitive nature and an oddly dry sense of humor. He's planning on getting a job in the school's administrative branch so he's there quite a lot. Bea always stops to talk to him, and he never fails to humor her. He rather enjoys her company.

Lew, otoh, is getting very jealous

all Bea can talk about is Mr Winters said this and Mr Winter said that and ooohhh did you know Mr Winters was a soldier? that's pretty cool

Lew has a 9-5 desk job. Bea doesn't think that's very cool.

bc of this, Lew does not like this Mr Winters on principle

All of Bea's godparents (George, Kitty, Lip, and Ron) and her Aunt Blanche think this is hilarious

Everytime Lew sees them, he grumbles about Mr Winters. This, of course, drives Kitty to find a way to introduce them.

so, during during the Parent Teacher Conference, Lew meets Dick. and he finds he does like Mr Winters after all. he likes Mr Winters a lot.

Dick, otoh, sees Bea light up and run into Lew's open arms, giggling when Lew peppers her face with kisses and raspberries, and immediately knows he is very much In Trouble.

Bea, being perceptive as she is, picks up on their mutual crushes on each other and thinks they're meant to be (she's right, of course) and immediately starts trying to push them together.

Bea: Mr Winters, do you like bad boys?

Dick, who most definitely has always had a thing for dark haired, rakish characters with hearts of gold and is also blushing very hard: Uh... sure I do

Bea: Great. Because my daddy is bad at everything.

it becomes Bea's mission to get her daddy and Mr Winters together

she doesn't have a plan for it. she just waits to throw them at each other at every opportunity until something happens.

she's very determined. Lew would stop and admire her ambition if only he wasn't busy fumbling into this new relationship with Dick while also doing his best to be a good dad.

and it's all very cute and fluffy and nothing bad ever happens ever bc this is my au, gdi, and i'm allowed to be as indulgent as i want, thank you.

[thewidowsghost]

The Unknown Muggleborn - Chapter 9

3rd Person POV

Hermione, who had come back with (Y/n) the day before term had started, takes a different view of things. She is torn between horror at the idea of Harry being out of bed, roaming the school three nights in a row - "If Filch had caught you!" - and disappointment that he hadn't, at least found out how Nicholas Flamel was.

(Y/n) had opened her mouth to say something, but Fred and George had darted across the Common Room and dragged her away and towards Oliver Wood, her three friends staring after her, and catching her apologetic gaze before Oliver snaps at her to pay attention.

Oliver seems to be working the Quidditch team harder than ever. Even the endless rain that had replaced the snow couldn't dampen his spirits. The Weasleys complained that Wood is becoming a fanatic, but Harry and (Y/n) are on Wood's side. If they win their next match, against Hufflepuff, they would overtake Slytherin in the House Championship for the first time in seven years. Quite apart from wanting to win, they find that they has fewer nightmares when they're tired after training.

Then, during one particularly wet and muddy practice session, Oliver Wood gives the team a bit of bad news. He'd just gotten very angry with the Weasleys, who kept dive-bombing each other and pretending to fall of their brooms.

"Will you stop messing around!" Wood orders. "That's exactly what'll lose us the match! Snape's refereeing this time, and he'll be looking for any excuse to knock points off Gryffindor!"

George Weasley really did fall off his broom at the words.

"Snape's refereeing?" he splutters through a mouthful of mud. "When's he ever refereed a Quidditch match? He's not going go be fair if me might overtake Slytherin."

The rest of team - besides (Y/n) - land next to George to complain, too.

"It's not my fault," says Wood. "We've just got to make sure we play a clean game, so Snape hasn't got an excuse to pick on us."

Which is all well, thinks (Y/n), but I don't need a repeat of what happened last time, whoever did it.

The rest of the team hangs back to talk to one another as usual at the end of practice, but Harry and (Y/n) sprint straight back up to the Gryffindor common room, where they find Hermione and Ron playing chess. Chess was the only thing Hermione ever lost at, something Harry and Ron though was good for her.

"Don't talk to me for a moment," says Ron when Harry sits down beside him and Hermione shifts to make room for (Y/n).

Then Hermione catches sight of (Y/n)'s face. "What's wrong?" she asks, a worried look on her face and Ron looks over at (Y/n).

Speaking quietly so that no one else would hear, Harry tells the other two about Snape's sudden, sinister desire to be a Quidditch referee.

"Don't play," says Hermione at once.

"Say you're ill," Ron offers.

"Pretend to break you leg," Hermione says.

"Really break your leg," at Ron's words, everyone turns to him.

"I can't," says (Y/n), then she signs. "There isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can't play at all."

At that moment Neville topples into the Common Room. How he had managed to climb through was anyone's guess, because his legs had been stuck together with what they recognized at once as the Leg-Locker Curse. He must have had to bunny hop all the way up to Gryffindor Tower.

Everyone but (Y/n) and Hermione laugh, and (Y/n) leaps up an performs the countercurse. Neville's legs spring apart and he gets to his feet, trembling.

"What happened?" (Y/n) asks him, leading him over to sit with Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"Malfoy," says Neville shakily. "I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice that on."

"Go to Professor McGonagall!" Hermione urges Neville.

"Report him!" (Y/n) agrees with the brunette.

Neville shakes his head. "I don't want more trouble," he mumbles.

"You've got to stand up to him, Neville!" Harry says.

"He's used to walking all over people, but that's no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier," Ron says.

"There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Malfoy's already done that," Neville chokes out.

(Y/n) feels around in the pocket of her sweatshirt and pulls out a chocolate frog. She gives it to Neville, who looks as though he is about to cry.

"You're worth twelve of Malfoy," (Y/n) says.

"The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn't it? And where's Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin?" Harry finishes.

"Thanks, (Y/n), Harry ... I think I'll go to bed ... D'you want the card (Y/n), you collect them don't you?"

As Neville walks away, (Y/n) looks at the Famous Wizard card.

(Y/n), reading the card, smacks herself in the face and everyone turns to her. "I found him!" (Y/n) hands the card to Hermione and she sprints upstairs and grabs a alchemy book from her nightstand.

"I never thought to look in here," (Y/n) says, sprinting back downstairs and over to her friends. "Snape gave me this a few weeks ago to read."

(Y/n) opens the book and flips through the pages. "Nicholas Flamel is the only know maker of the Sorcerer's Stone."

This doesn't have the effect she had expected.

"The what?" ask Harry and Ron.

"Honestly, don't you read?" Hermione asks.

"The Sorcerer's Stone," (Y/n) begins pacing back and forth, her friends watching, "it was a legend, but I guess now it's true." (Y/n) runs a hand through her (H/C) hair. "It can transform any metal into pure gold and can produce the Elixir of Life, which makes the drinker immortal. If I remember correctly, Flamel just turned six hundred and sixty-five."

"The dog must be guarding the Sorcerer's Stone!" Harry begins.

"I bet he asked Dumbledore to keep it safe for him, because they're friends and he knew someone was after it, that's why he wanted the Stone removed out of Gringotts!" Hermione finishes.

"A stone that makes gold and stops you from ever dying!" exclaims Harry. "No wonder Snape's after it! Anyone would want it!"

At Harry's mention of Snape, (Y/n)'s mouth spreads into a frown.

"And no wonder we couldn't find Flamel in that Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry," says Ron. "He's not exactly recent if he's six hundred and sixty-five, is he?"

. . .

The next morning in Defense Against the Dark Arts, while copying down different ways of treating werewolf bites, Harry and Ron are still discussing what they'd do with a Sorcerer's Stone if they had one. It wasn't until Ron said he'd buy his own Quidditch team that (Y/n) remembers about Snape and the coming match.

"I'm going to play," she tells the other five. "If I don't we'll be behind in the cup. If we win, I'll show them ... it'll really wipe the smiles off their faces."

"Just as long as we're not wiping you off the field," Ron comments and (Y/n) shoots him a incredulous look.

As the match grows closer, however, (Y/n) becomes more and more nervous, whatever she told her friends and sister. The rest of the team isn't very calm, either. The idea of overtaking Slytherin in the House Championship was wonderful, no one had done it in seven years, but would they be allowed to, with such a biased referee?

Harry doesn't know whether he is imagining it or not, but he seems to keep running into Snape wherever he goes. At times, he wonders if Snape is following him, trying to catch him on his own. Potions lessons are turning into a sort of weekly torture for Harry, Snape seemingly getting worse in each class. Harry didn't see how he could - yet sometimes he had to horrible feeling that Snape could read minds.

(Y/n) knew, when they had wished her and Harry good luck outside the locker rooms the next afternoon, that Ron and Hermione were wondering whether they'd ever see her alive again. (Y/n) hardly hears a word of Oliver's pep talk as she pulls on her Quidditch robes and picks up her Nimbus Two Thousand.

Ron and Hermione, meanwhile, had found a place in the stands next to Neville, who couldn't understand why they looked so grim and worried, or why they had both brought their wands to the match. Little did (Y/n) know that her friends had been secretly practicing the Leg-Locker Curse. They had gotten the idea from Malfoy using it on Neville, and were ready to use it on Snape if he showed any signs of wanting to hurt (Y/n).

Back in the locker room, Oliver Wood had taken (Y/n) aside.

"Don't want to pressure you, (Y/n), but if we ever need an early capture of the Snitch it's now. Finish the game before Snape can favor Hufflepuff too much."

(Y/n) nods, a determined look on the Seeker's face.

"The whole school's out there!" says Fred, peering out of the door. "Even - blimey - Dumbledore's come to watch!"

Harry and (Y/n) exchange looks. "Dumbledore?" Harry asks, dashing to the door to make sure. Fred is right, there's no mistaking that silver beard.

Harry could have laughed out loud with relief. (Y/n) was safe. There was simply no way that Snape would dare hurt (Y/n) if Dumbledore was watching, Harry thinks. Maybe that's why Snape is looking so angry as the teams march onto the field, Harry thinks, which Ron notices as well.

"I've never seen Snape look so mean," the ginger tells the other girls. "Look - they're off. Ouch!" Malfoy had poked Ron in the back of the head.

"Oh, sorry Weasley, didn't see you there," Malfoy grins at Crabbe and Goyle. "Wonder how long (L/n)'s going to stay on her broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley?"

Ron doesn't answer; Snape had just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George had hit a Bludger at him. Hermione, who had all her fingers crossed in her lap, is squinting fixedly up at (Y/n), who is circling the came like a hawk, looking for the Snitch.

"You know how I think they chose people for the Gryffindor team?" says Malfoy loudly a few minutes later, as Snape awards Hufflepuff another penalty for no reason at all. "It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter and (L/n), who've got no family, then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money - you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains."

Neville goes bright red but turns in his seat to face Malfoy. "I'm worth twelve of you Malfoy," he stammers.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle howl with laughter, but Ron, still not daring to take his eyes from the game, said, "You tell him, Neville."

"Longbottom, if brains were gold you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something."

Ron's nerves are already stretched to the breaking point with anxiety about (Y/n), "I'm warning you, Malfoy - one more word -"

"Ron!" says Hermione suddenly, "(Y/n) - !"

"What?! Where?!"

(Y/n) had suddenly gone into a spectacular dive, which draws gasps and cheers from the crowd. Hermione stands up, her crossed fingers in her mouth, as (Y/n) streaks towards the ground like a bullet.

"You're in luck, Weasley, (L/N)'s obviously spotted some money on the ground!" says Malfoy.

Ron snaps. Before Malfoy knows what's happening, Ron is on top of him, wrestling him to the ground. Neville hesitates, then clambers over the back of his seat to help.

"Come on, (Y/n)!" Hermione screams, leaping onto her seat to watch as (Y/n) speeds straight at Snape - she didn't even notice Malfoy and Ron rolling around under her seat, or the scuffles and yelps coming from the whirl of fists that was Neville, Crabbe and Goyle.

Hermione watches to see Snape turning on his broomstick to see something scarlet shoot past him, missing him by inches - the next second, (Y/n) had pulled out of the dive, her arm raised in triumph, the Snitch clasped in her hand.

The stands erupt; it had to be a record, no one could remember the Snitch being caught so quickly.

"Ron! Ron! Where are you? The game's over! (Y/n)'s won! We've won! Gryffindor's in the lead," shrieks Hermione, dancing up and down on her seat and hugging a beaming Pavarti Patil in front of her.

(Y/n) jumps off her broom, a foot from the ground. She couldn't believe it. She had done it - the game was over; it had barely lasted five minutes. As Gryffindors come spilling onto the field, Harry sees Snape land nearby, white-faced and tight-lipped. Harry lands beside (Y/n) and they feel a hand on their shoulder and they look up into Dumbledore's smiling face.

"Well done," says Dumbledore quietly, so that only Harry and (Y/n) could hear.

The Gryffindors run to lift (Y/n) onto their shoulder; Ron and Hermione in the distance, jumping up and down, Ron cheering through a heavy nosebleed.

Harry leaves the locker room alone some time later, to take his Nimbus Two Thousand back to the broomshed. He leans against the wooden door and looks up at Hogwarts, with its windows glowing red in the setting sun. Gryffindor in the lead. (Y/n) had done it, she'd shown Snape. . . .

And speaking of Snape . . .

A hooded figure comes swiftly down the front steps of the castle. Clearly not wanting to be seen, it walks as fast as possible toward the forbidden forest. Harry recognizes the figure's prowling walk. Snape, sneaking into the forest while everyone else was at dinner — what was going on?

Harry jumps back on his Nimbus Two Thousand and took off. Gliding silently over the castle he sees Snape enter the forest at a run; he follows.

The trees are so thick he couldn't see where Snape had gone. He flew in circles, lower and lower, brushing the top branches of trees until he hears voices. He glides toward them and lands noiselessly in a towering beech tree.

He climbs carefully along one of the branches, holding tight to his broomstick, trying to see through the leaves. Below, in a shadowy clearing, stands Snape, but he isn't alone. Quirrell is there, too. Harry can't make out the look on his face, but he is stuttering worse than ever. Harry strains to catch what they are saying.

". . . d-don't know why you wanted t-t-to meet here of all p-places, Severus . . ."

"Oh, I thought we'd keep this private," replies Snape, his voice icy. "Students aren't supposed to know about the Sorcerer's Stone, after all."

Harry leans forward. Quirrell is mumbling something, but Snape interrupts him.

"Have you found out how to get past that beast of Hagrid's yet?"

"B-b-but Severus, I —"

"You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell," says Snape, taking a step towards him.

"I-I don't know what you —"

"You know perfectly well what I mean."

An owl hoots loudly, and Harry nearly falls out of the tree. He steadies himself in time to hear Snape say, "— your little bit of hocus-pocus. I'm waiting."

"B-but I d-d-don't —"

"Very well," Snape cuts in. "We'll have another little chat soon, when you've had time to think things over and decided where your loyalties lie."He throws his cloak over his head and strides out of the clearing. It is almost dark now, but Harry can see Quirrell, standing quite still, as though he was petrified.

. . .

"Harry, where have you been?" Hermione squeaks.

"We won! (Y/n) won! We won!" shouted Ron, thumping (Y/n) on the back."And I gave Malfoy a black eye, and Neville tried to take on Crabbe and Goyle single-handed! He's still out cold but Madam Pomfrey says he'll be all right — talk about showing Slytherin!"

"Everyone's waiting for you and (Y/n) in the common room, we're having a party, Fred and George stole some cakes and stuff from the kitchens," Ron continues.

"Never mind that now," says Harry breathlessly. "Let's find an empty room, you wait 'til you hear this. . . ."

He made sure Peeves wasn't inside before shutting the door behind them, then he told them what he'd seen and heard.

"So we were right, it is the Sorcerer's Stone, and Snape's trying to force Quirrell to help him get it. He asked if he knew how to get past Fluffy — and he said something about Quirrell's 'hocus-pocus'— I reckon there are other things guarding the stone apart from Fluffy, loads of enchantments, probably, and Quirrell would have done some anti-Dark Arts spell that Snape needs to break through -"

"So you man the Stone's only safe as long as Quirrell stands up to Snape?" asks Hermione in alarm, (Y/n) shifting thoughtfully on the desk she was sitting onto of.

"It'll be gone by next Tuesday," says Ron.

Hermione glances over at (Y/n), who is sitting silently, a thoughtful expression on her face. "What is it?" (Y/n) asks.

"The thing about the loyalty confuses me," (Y/n) says, jumping off the desk. "Who would Quirrell need to prove his loyalties lie to? Dumbledore right, what if Quirrell is trying to get the stone? What if that whole stuttering thing is an act? I've never been a hundred percent about him myself."

Ron shrugs her off, "It must be Snape."

"Not necessarily, not to be rude or anything, but I'm his favorite student," the others nod in agreement. Then (Y/n) turns to Hermione. "Who was sitting behind Snape at the first Quidditch match?"

"Quirrell," Hermione says.

"My point exactly," (Y/n) says but Ron and Harry shrug her off again.

"It's definitely Snape," Harry says and (Y/n) shakes her head and walks back to the Gryffindor Common Room alone.

Despite herself, she grins when she portrait whole swings open and the Common Room erupts into cheers as she steps through. Oliver and Fred come over and lift (Y/n) up onto their shoulder and everyone begins to cheer:

"(Y/n)!"

"(Y/n)!"

"(Y/n)!"

Word Count: 2963 words

[enlightened711-blog]

Enlightened The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science. Albert Einstein Look deep into nature, and then you will understand everything better. Albert Einstein Enlightenment: The act of enlightening or the state of being enlightened. Enlighten: Give greater knowledge and understanding about a subject or situation. Give spiritual knowledge or insight. Enlightened: Having or showing a rational, modern, and well-informed outlook. Spiritually aware. Meditation and mindfulness are useful tools in this process of creating a more accurate perception of reality, a more focused life and a more joyful experience. As we delve into our inner world the study of the sciences, psychology, the brain and consciousness can help us interpret our experiences. Our enlightenment is effected by our ego's need to see the world in a certain way and to maintain it's own existence. Meditation can help us see the world more clearly, not as we as we think we need to see it. When we remember we are all mad, the mysteries disappear and life stands explained. Mark Twain All this worldly wisdom was once the unnameable heresy of some wise man. Henry David Thoreau Delusions are normal parts of existence, assume that they are there even though you can not see them.   Mindfulness helps us live in the present without the demons of the past tearing at us or the desires and fears of the future distracting us. It's not that I'm so smart, it's just that I stay with problems longer. Albert Einstein We must let go of the life we have planned, so as to accept the one that is waiting for us. Joseph Campbell And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. Anais Nin Participate joyfully in the sorrows of the world. We cannot cure the world of sorrows, but we can choose to live in joy. Joseph Campbell The best way to make your dreams come true is to wake up. Paul Valery For all life is a dream, and dreams themselves are only dreams. Pedro Calderon de la Barca Myths are public dreams, dreams are private myths. Joseph Campbell Living in dreams of yesterday, we find ourselves still dreaming of impossible future conquests. Charles Lindbergh One of the most tragic things I know about human nature is that all of us tend to put off living. We are all dreaming of some magical rose garden over the horizon instead of enjoying the roses that are blooming outside our windows today. Dale Carnegie The Universe is one great kindergarten for man. Everything that exists has brought with it its own peculiar lesson. Orison Swett Marden There are always flowers for those who want to see them. Henri Matisse Follow your bliss and the universe will open doors where there were only walls. Joseph Campbell Most sets of values would give rise to universes that, although they might be very beautiful, would contain no one able to wonder at that beauty. Stephen Hawking The price of anything is the amount of life you exchange for it. Henry David Thoreau To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else. Emily Dickinson Who will tell whether one happy moment of love or the joy of breathing or walking on a bright morning and smelling the fresh air, is not worth all the suffering and effort which life implies. Erich Fromm It takes a long time to become young. Pablo Picasso There is always some specific moment when we become aware that our youth is gone; but, years after, we know it was much later. Mignon McLaughlin An intellectual is someone whose mind watches itself. Albert Camus Alas, after a certain age every man is responsible for his face. Albert Camus Beauty is unbearable, drives us to despair, offering us for a minute the glimpse of an eternity that we should like to stretch out over the whole of time. Albert Camus For if there is a sin against life, it consists perhaps not so much in despairing of life as in hoping for another life and in eluding the implacable grandeur of this life. Albert Camus He who despairs of the human condition is a coward, but he who has hope for it is a fool. Albert Camus How hard, how bitter it is to become a man! Albert Camus That God does not exist, I cannot deny, That my whole being cries out for God I cannot forget. Jean-Paul Sartre There is only one day left, always starting over: it is given to us at dawn and taken away from us at dusk. Jean-Paul Sartre We do not judge the people we love. Jean-Paul Sartre When we love the world we do not judge it, rather we make a choice in the moment. Respond intelligently even to unintelligent treatment. Lao Tzu Always respond intelligently to unintelligent treatment even if to an outside observer it appears that you are not responding intelligently. Everything happens to everybody sooner or later if there is time enough. George Bernard Shaw Time is but the stream I go a-fishing in. Henry David Thoreau Until you value yourself, you won't value your time. Until you value your time, you will not do anything with it. M. Scott Peck The more you value yourself the more that you will be able to focus your efforts. He that would live in peace and at ease must not speak all he knows or all he sees. Benjamin Franklin Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall. Confucius Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage. Lao Tzu For in all adversity of fortune the worst sort of misery is to have been happy. Boethius The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched - they must be felt with the heart. Helen Keller All men are children, and of one family. The same tale sends them all to bed, and wakes them in the morning. Henry David Thoreau As a single footstep will not make a path on the earth, so a single thought will not make a pathway in the mind. To make a deep physical path, we walk again and again. To make a deep mental path, we must think over and over the kind of thoughts we wish to dominate our lives. Henry David Thoreau A pathway starts with a single footstep. Friends... they cherish one another's hopes. They are kind to one another's dreams. Henry David Thoreau It is a difficult decision to wake someone from a delusional dream. Wake oneself first. How can any man be weak who dares to be at all? Henry David Thoreau If you can speak what you will never hear, if you can write what you will never read, you have done rare things. Henry David Thoreau Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them. Henry David Thoreau The greatest compliment that was ever paid me was when one asked me what I thought, and attended to my answer. Henry David Thoreau The squirrel that you kill in jest, dies in earnest. Henry David Thoreau There is no remedy for love but to love more. Henry David Thoreau There is no value in life except what you choose to place upon it and no happiness in any place except what you bring to it yourself. Henry David Thoreau True friendship can afford true knowledge. It does not depend on darkness and ignorance. Henry David Thoreau You must live in the present, launch yourself on every wave, find your eternity in each moment. Henry David Thoreau A loaf of bread, a jug of wine, and thou. Omar Khayyam Drink! for you know not whence you came nor why: drink! for you know not why you go, nor where.   Omar Khayyam Living Life Tomorrow's fate, though thou be wise, Thou canst not tell nor yet surmise; Pass, therefore, not today in vain, For it will never come again. Omar Khayyam The moving finger writes, and having written moves on. Nor all thy piety nor all thy wit, can cancel half a line of it. Omar Khayyam That though the radiance which was once so bright be now forever taken from my sight. Though nothing can bring back the hour of splendor in the grass, glory in the flower. We will grieve not, rather find strength in what remains behind. William Wordsworth Thinking isn't agreeing or disagreeing. That's voting. Robert Frost Adapt or perish, now as ever, is nature's inexorable imperative. H. G. Wells Fame will go by and, so long, I've had you, fame. If it goes by, I've always known it was fickle. So at least it's something I experience, but that's not where I live. Marilyn Monroe For every person who has ever lived there has come, at last, a spring he will never see. Glory then in the springs that are yours. Pam Brown Forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair. Kahlil Gibran I've made an odd discovery. Every time I talk to a savant I feel quite sure that happiness is no longer a possibility. Yet when I talk with my gardener, I'm convinced of the opposite. Bertrand Russell Let us learn to appreciate there will be times when the trees will be bare, and look forward to the time when we may pick the fruit. Anton Chekhov Every religion is true one way or another. It is true when understood metaphorically. But when it gets stuck in its own metaphors, interpreting them as facts, then you are in trouble. Joseph Campbell I, not events, have the power to make me happy or unhappy today. I can choose which it shall be. Yesterday is dead, tomorrow hasn't arrived yet. I have just one day, today, and I'm going to be happy in it. Groucho Marx A truly good book teaches me better than to read it. I must soon lay it down, and commence living on its hint. What I began by reading, I must finish by acting. Henry David Thoreau