#we've been asking for a British L

[ruindunburnit]

I just found out: not only is Dean John-Wilson the first Brit to play L, he's also from Yorkshire! I am trying to be so normal about this.

[two-white-butterflies]

she's poison | m33

Description: Your relationship is leaked to the public. No one believes that you're dating Max.

Pairing: max verstappen/it-girl!reader

There was only one reason that a woman would fall in love willingly - and it was because the man was enchanting. The first time that you met him - he ignored everything that you did. He ignored your existence - because there was no fucking way that a goddess like you would choose to come down to earth and be with him.

He held his head high - holding his ego close to his chest. He'd be perfectly content in going back to his apartment, knowing that he blowed off the chance of a lifetime. He figured that you'd fade - and be one of the girls that he could've loved.

He'd be happy with your memory, but Lando had to open his mouth: "No damn way that Max is bagging that hottie." his friend muttered in his thick British accent. The entire table erupted into drunken laughter - and he could feel his ego shatter into a million pieces.

Without another word - he sashays towards you. Smiling with those innocent eyes of his. "Hey, I couldn't help but see that you're alone. Do you have friends here?" Max asked with a smile, trying to keep the conversation long enough for his friends to realize that you were 'somewhat' interested.

You turned to look at him - shock flooding through your features. He wasn't like the guys that you spoke to - nothing like Earl Westfort or that Taiwanese tycoon that your parents force you to tolerate. Shit, this man who you've known for only 3 seconds was a breath of fresh air. He was the calm after a storm.

"Sadly, I'm alone - my friends ditched me." you chuckled, dancing along to the tune of the music. "Do you want to get out of here?" he offered - unable to hear you clearly because of the noise.

And you couldn't believe it - because you agreed.

That was the beginning of your love story - the guy who was shooting his shot, and the girl who let him.

glitterparty23: privacy sign on the door 🔒

1283 comments 1,348,345 likes

bentashakers: that's literally liam hemsworth 😭 - lovingitcoma: No, it's obviously Chris Evans

BELONGmeee34: Chris Evans and Y/N L/N??? WTF

celebrityupdates: Y/N L/N, Chris Evans and Margot Robbie on the movie premiere of 'The Last Days of Santa Elena'

392 comments 24,283 likes

chrisandyn2: They think that they're slick for this 😭

uwuwu123: NO PICS OF THEM TOGETHER??

ilovemetoo9: this is so foul

comments

lestappenduo: is that max verstappen?? 😀

glitterparty23: omg !! - keithurban: Sorry?

ynandchris: We've been saying Y/N and Chris but it's actually Max and Y/N hahahahahahahahahahah

landonricciardo: MAX AND Y/N?

maxverstappen1: Winning on and off the tracks 💪🏽🧡

239 comments 243,345 likes

lestappenduo: max's normal posts: 🤬💪🏽🏅 max when it's yn: 🤤🧡

glitterparty23: 💗

[call-sign-jinx]

Endless Love (Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw) - Chapter 6

summary - Y/N Y/L/N and Bradley Bradshaw have had a rivalry ever since they both attended the same academy. Every chance they took, they always tried to one up each other. One day, Bradley takes the rivalry too far and Y/N ends up in the hospital with serious injuries. Will it make Y/N want to get him back twice as worse? Or will it make her realise that this rivalry between them is childish?

warnings - swearing, enemies to lovers, mention of serious injury, traumatic episodes, reader traumatised from what happened, smut, slowburn, seizures, flashbacks

a/n - hey girlies! it's been a loooooong time since i posted the last chapter. i tried to edit this and add to it but i jus couldn't. long story short i went thru a fat breakup and i jus needed to take a break. and deepest apologies cos this one is so short! hope u enjoy regardless! xx

When I woke up, my head was pounding. I rubbed the sleep off of my eyes then looked around the room. This wasn't my room. This was too tidy to be my room. I got up and opened the door to peer out of it. Yeah this definitely was not my house. Maybe I had a one night stand? Or... I don't know I woke up in an alternate universe?

I walked out of the room and began to smell something. It was fucking gorgeous. Haven't smelt something like it since I moved to the US. I followed the smell and there I saw Bradshaw, shirtless cooking what looked to be a Full English. Wait... why the fuck and where did Bradshaw manage to get the stuff you need to make a Full English?

My focus quickly changed to his figure, damn he looked god without a shirt. Yeah, I have seen him before with no shirt but that was when we were always arguing so I never paid it any mind. But dayum, he looked good as hell. I couldn't stop staring in all honesty, his golden skin tone mixed with how well he'd been working out just pulled me into a trance. I shook my head and quickly walked up to the kitchen island.

"Good morning Bradshaw. Please could you tell me how the actual fuck I woke up in your house?" I placed my chin on my hand as I stared up at him. He chuckled and shook his eggs and he flipped over the bacon, I quickly glanced at it and it was British bacon. Wow...

"So you're telling me you remember nothing from last night?" My brows furrowed and my lips pouted.

"I remember going out to the Hard Deck with Phoenix, getting wankered and then fuck knows what else. Why?" I raised a brow in suspicion and confusion.

"Let me give you the run down. You and Phoenix showed up to the bar with pretty skimpy dresses, you had too many double whiskies for anyone's liking, Phoenix went home so you joined the rest of the Dagger Squad. Then an hour later your 'friend,' can't remember his name, said he'd take you home and then basically asked if you wanna help cheat on his girlfriend. You also said that you're moving out and I offered for you to stay here until you find a new place to live. And you said yes." My jaw dropped. Wait... Thomas wanted to cheat on his girlfriend?... With me?!

"I know, wild night you had sweetheart." He chuckled as he finished cooking the breakfast and plated it all up. He passed me one plate as he sat down next to me and began to eat his.

"Wait wait wait, pause for a second there Bradshaw. Thomas wanted to cheat on his girlfriend with me?" I couldn't believe it, we'd stay up all night so he could talk about how in love with her he was. He even talked about fucking proposing to her. Bradshaw nodded in response.

"Nah what the fuck? That can't be true. He literally took me ring shopping for her the other day." Bradshaw didn't reply, all he did was take his phone out. He tapped it a few times and then placed it on the worktop. It was an audio. It had a few voices in it that stuck out to me. But the one that stuck out the most was Thomas'. The things he said my top lip curl up in disgust. I furrowed my brows as I looked at Bradshaw.

"We've been friends since I was 6. Why and how the fuck has he turned into this? He used to be so fucking sweet and caring." Bradshaw gave me a sympathetic look.

"Some people just change. It sucks, doesn't it?" I let out a scoff with a smile.

"It really fucking does." I stare into space for a few seconds until I look back to the Full English that Bradshaw has been cooking. "When and where did you find out how to make a Full English breakfast Bradshaw?" Bradshaw gave me a smirk as he sat down across from me.

"The joys of google." He jabbed the bacon and sausage before shoving it into his mouth.

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

Today was a slow day at Top Gun. Nothing was really getting done because Maverick and Cyclone were having a 6 hour long argument somehow. I can't even hold a 10 minute conversation let alone a fucking 6 hour long argument. What are they even arguing about?

Phoenix jabbed me on my shoulder to get my attention.

"You wanna go to the beach after this? Maverick said it's some team building technique. Everyone has to go apparently." I rolled my eyes with a slight smirk.

"How is going to the beach going to help us all get along? Also, could I come to your house before so I can get ready? I'm staying at Bradshaw's for a bit til I can find somewhere to live." Phoenix immediately said yes and told me some other girls from the squad are coming as well.

Thinking about the beach and team building brought an idea into my head. Although me and Bradshaw are civil now, doesn't mean I can't mess with him.

[justwearthegoddamncardigan]

Hello:)

so I was looking thru ur pinned post and saw that u wrote for Harry Potter and was wondering if you would do a fic for George Weasley? ( fem reader pls) but basically, I was just kind of thinking of an introverted Gryffindor who loves books and George meets them and they both (very obvious to others) have a crush on each other? Maybe George just asks them for book recs even tho he had no interest in reading before just so he can find a way to talk to the reader? I know you have a lot of fics in the making so take ur time please<3

A HP REQUEST?? This is amazing I'm so excited to be branching out from maze runner again, and I absolutely love this request it's super cute ❤❤. Ty for being so kind and sweet as well :)

Umm :D So I wrote the above ^^^ response as soon as the request came in and now... IT'S BEEN TWO MONTHS IM SO SORRY ANON!! Hope you're still out there to read 😭

It's a love story

George Weasley x fem!reader

I am not British *thumbs up in australian* so prepare either for out-of-place non-british dialogue or cringe attempts to fit into the universe. idk which one it's gonna be so I guess we'll find out

3.1k words

Warnings: language (swearing)

You turn the corner and register a flash of red hair before colliding hard with a body.

"Shit!"

You groan as you sit up, staring around to see your books have been knocked out of your arms and onto the floor.

"Fuck, sorry, listen I've gotta-"

"Weasley!"

You turn in surprise as Filch marches down the corridor, fist raised with an expression of rage on his face.

"Shit," you whisper.

"Yeah," says the person who knocked you over, who you've now found is none other than George Weasley. Of course, the guy you've kinda sorta maybe liked for years is only talking to you after literally bowling you over.

"Here." He points his wand and charms all your books into little palm-sized rectangles, before gathering them up and stuffing them in his pockets. "We've gotta go."

"Where?" you stare around the empty corridor, unable to find a decent hiding spot.

"Follow me." George leads you over to a dusty-looking tapestry and ducks behind it.

"What the-"

"Come on!" he reaches out and grabs your hand, tugging you in.

You stumble through the gap between the tapestry and the wall, practically falling into George's chest.

"Sorry," you mutter, and you're glad it's dark because you can feel your face blushing like crazy.

"I know you're 'round 'ere, Weasley," you hear Filch snarl from outside.

You hear him muttering to himself as his footsteps eventually recede, and you let out a breath. "He's gone."

You turn to push through the tapestry to get out, only to be met with a thin slab of solid stone. "What-"

George winces. "Yeah, once you get in here it closes for about half an hour."

"Half an hour?" you repeat incredulously.

You can barely see his nod in the dark. "I mean, one of them closes for two hours once you get in, so half isn't too bad."

There's beat of silence, before, "Lumos."

The tip of George's wand lights up, illuminating the small space. "Oh, it's you," he says, seemingly on instinct the moment the light appears.

"Pardon?"

He seems to catch himself, shaking his head. "Nevermind, just- Here, sit down."

You sit down on the floor with your legs crossed, heart skipping a beat as your knee brushes against his in the cramped space.

"We're in the same Transfiguration class, aren't we?" asks George.

"Yeah." You're pleasantly surprised by that. You tend to be pretty quiet in class, mostly keeping to yourself.

"You're always the first person to get a new transfiguration successfully. Bird to glass on the first try, right?"

"I- yes," you say, warming at the recognition of the hard work you've always put into Transfiguration.

He nods. "Took me the whole lesson to get that one right. Hey, I never caught your name in class?"

"It's L/n," you say. "Y/n L/n."

"Good to meet ya, Y/n," he grins. "I'm George."

"I know," you can't help but say, smiling slightly.

"Oh, your books." George empties his pockets of your miniaturised books. "Engorgio." He waves his wand over them, changing them back to their normal size.

"Thanks," you say, pulling them towards you and stacking them up.

"You read a lot?"

You smile to yourself, picturing the dozens of books you go through in a term. "Just a bit."

"Sure," says George, eyeing the four novels sitting in front of you now.

Before long, you reach out and push against the tapestry, finding it to be cloth again instead of stone.

"Time to go?" George stands and pushes through, and you follow him into the corridor.

"Finally," you say, stretching before grabbing your books.

"Sorry about earlier," says George with a sheepish smile. "And for trapping you for half an hour."

You shake your head. "It's okay."

He grins at you. "Alright then, see you 'round, Y/n."

You stand still, rooted to the ground as he leaves, waving behind him, and something in you clicks. Oh shit.

⭒----⭒

Any thoughts about George a put aside for the night when you settle down with your book.

The common room late at night is your happy place. Most people are sleeping in the dorms, save for a couple 6th years finishing their assignments.

You tune out their little whisperings as you sit beside the crackling fire, and you can just pretend you're alone in the common room, getting lost in your book.

Before long, you're actually alone, with the remaining people all retreating to their dorms - except for one that you haven't noticed.

George is sitting across the room, barely paying attention to the essay he's meant to be editing. Every so often, he glances up at you without you noticing.

After years of sharing the same Transfig class, something about you has piqued George's interest, though he's always tried to mark it down as pure curiosity.

He can't believe it's taken literally knocking you to the ground to get your attention, and he doesn't understand how he hadn't properly met you before earlier that day. But now, he can't seem to resist the strange pull you have on him.

Get yourself together, you've only met once, idiot. George frowns as he silently berates himself, but he can't help but watch as you repeatedly flick away a strand of hair that keeps falling into your eyes.

Fuck it. Go talk to her.

George stands abruptly, nearly knocking over a goblet in the process.

You, the oblivious centre of all his thoughts for the past few hours, are still just sitting beside the fire, reading your book.

"Hey."

You jerk slightly in surprise, grabbing your book as it starts sliding out of your lap.

"Um, hi. What's up?" you manage to say coolly.

George blanks. He hadn't exactly come in with a plan. He glances down at the assignment he'd been working on; good enough. "Did you finish that work Flitwick gave us?"

"I haven't yet," you say slowly, slightly confused as to why he's here. "I've just gotta write a conclusion and edit the rest."

"I haven't got a clue how to write the damn conclusion," says George, flopping down beside you and complaining about the rigid essay structure.

You realise as he's talking that it's strangely intimate. Earlier, you'd been sitting on the floor with your back leaning on a couch and your knees up, braced against the coffee table.

Now, you're both wedged between said couch and table, and despite the generous space between the two of you, you feel oddly close to him.

"Can I read yours?" he asks, pointing to where your assignment has been sitting since you gave up and decided to just read your book.

"Sure," you say, sliding it to him.

He leans against the couch as he skims your work, fingers tapping absent-mindedly.

"God you write like a professor, Y/n," comments George. "...the fuck are all these words- incandescence?"

"I... read a little," you say with a little smile, cheeks warming at the way your name sounds in his mouth.

He glances up at you. "This is brilliant. So you've just got the conclusion to do?"

You nod, taking back the assignment as he pushes it to you.

You end up staying up way longer than you'd intended, talking to George as the conversation topic quickly strays away from any Charms essays.

By the time you go to your dorms, you haven't even finished your conclusion.

⭒----⭒

"Mate, you're not nearly as subtle as you think you are," says Fred, elbowing his brother.

George elbows him right back. "What're you on about?"

"The staring," says Fred, grin teasing. "It's getting embarrassing. If whatever little crush you've now got starts affecting my reputation, we're gonna have to have a chat about this twin thing."

George rolls his eyes. "Git."

"So..." Fred drags out the word. "Who is it then?"

He jerks his chin towards the group of girls on the other side of the Gryffindor breakfast table, where George had been conspicuously staring at you all morning.

"The one on the left - Y/L/N, she's in our Transfig class."

"Oh!" says Fred, eyes lighting up in understanding. "Oh she's great, I did a project with her once. Quiet type, bookish. Fun, though. Pretty, too," he adds, raising an eyebrow at George.

"Shut it," retorts George. "What should I do then?"

"I don't fuckin' know Georgie, just go talk to her. Ask for book recommendations or something."

"That's... actually a decent idea."

" 'course it is," says Fred. "Anything to get you guys together as fast as possible so I don't have to deal with your lovesick horsecrap."

⭒----⭒

A Quidditch game has just finished (Gryffindor victory, of course), and you're avoiding the inevitable party in the common room. You can enjoy parties on a good day, but you're just not feeling it right now.

So you're in the library, wandering around as you wait for dinner.

"Y/n!" You turn to see George doing a weird half-run toward you, not wanting to be yelled at for running in the library.

"Oh, George. Hey."

"I figured you'd be in here," he says.

"You figured...?"

"Well," he raises an eyebrow at you. "Since you read a little."

You huff out a soft laugh, shaking your head. "So why were you looking for me?"

You try to listen as he speaks, but you're immediately distracted by just about everything about him.

His cheeks are flushed red, probably cause he just transitioned from the cold outside to the heated library, and his hair is windswept and slightly wet from melted snowflakes.

He's gotten rid of his Quidditch gear, but it's strange to see him in just the casual clothes students usually wear in the dorms and common room again.

And he's still speaking. Pay attention, Y/n.

"Anyways, I just wanted to find you, cause you know, hobbies... and literature, are really... important. And the Christmas holidays are coming up. So I just wanted to ask if you had any recommendations."

You frown slightly as you remember it's only the start of November, and he barrels on, almost seeming nervous.

"For books, I mean. To read, over the holidays. I don't, uh- come in here very often, so I don't know what's good. You seemed like a good person to ask." He scrubs a hand over the back of his neck as he speaks, giving you a hopeful smile.

"I am," you say with a smirk. You straighten up confidently, banishing any nervousness because books; books you can do.

"Great," says George. "What've you got for me, Y/L/N?"

"Well what kind of books do you like?"

His grin falters. "Um-"

"Fiction, non-fiction, stories, biographies?"

"...stories?"

"Sure." You navigate to another aisle, moving into the more fiction-y section. "Action, ooh- historical, adventure, romance?" You lift an eyebrow at the last one.

"I-" He clears his throat, and you smile slightly to yourself. "Action is good, I think," he says uncertainly.

You scan the shelf currently at your eye level, before picking out a book. "I love this one," you tell him. "Pretty fast paced, which might be good for you. Also, dragons."

"Dragons," he repeats. "Great."

"How many books are you looking for?" you ask.

"Just one, I think. I wanna... get into reading, before the holidays start."

"Sure," you say, holding the book out to him.

It's like sun breaking through, when he smiles in return. "Do you think we could meet up?" he begins. "To talk about the book once I've read it?"

"Yeah, I'd like that," you smile. "And you have to tell me what you like, so I can recommend you the next one."

"Excellent."

⭒----⭒

Ever since giving George that first book you've started seeing him almost every day.

The two of you can be found huddled together in the little nooks around the library, or behind the greenhouses, or down by the lake, talking about books and school and everything in between.

But soon the holidays arrive, and you're saying goodbye to him and the rest of your friends.

Your parents are being forced to travel a lot over Christmas for work, so the first month of the holiday flies by in a whirlwind of tea in the morning with the few remaining students in Hogwarts, long peaceful walks on the grounds, and lots and lots of reading.

You've devoured a row of books in the library by the time Christmas has passed, and you've planned to go through another row, when George materialises in the common room one day, two weeks after Christmas.

"George?" you exclaim, spotting him in the common room.

He turns as he hears your voice, and his face splits into a wide grin. Without hesitation, he runs up to you and pulls you into a hug, lifting you just slightly above the floor.

Your heart swells as his laughter rings in the air, and suddenly everything is complete.

"I missed you so much," you tell him, almost surprised at your own admission. Truth is, Hogwarts is beautiful during Christmas, but it's a little lonely with everyone else having gone home.

George's responding smile is worth the wait though, and he tosses an arm around your shoulder as he leads you out of the common room.

"C'mon, it's a Hogsmeade day. No time to waste!"

⭒----⭒

The two of you settle down at a table in the Three Broomsticks, grabbing Butterbeers as you go.

"Alright then, Weasley. Did you get through the holiday book I got you?"

He smiles. "I did. And you know what I was thinking when I read it?"

"What?"

"Y/n would hate Chaolie, and she'd love Alosia."

You blink in surprise. "I- yeah, those are my exact thoughts on the book."

George smirks. "See? I know you."

"I mean yeah, I loved every chapter Alosia was in; she's my favourite. Typical, I know, everyone likes the side characters, but god, Allo would've been so much better as a main character than fucking Chaolie. G.T.L. is brilliant- we know that, she fits insane arcs and storylines into a single book, but please,-"

George listens, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth, as you continue rambling animatedly about the book, your hands gesturing enthusiastically as you speak.

"And the cover: gorgeous. You know stories like this can have the silliest cover art if they're not done well, and the choice to go almost muggle-style with a non-moving cover is perfect."

You brush a stray piece of hair away from your face, oblivious to the way George tracks the movement, desperately wanting to reach out and tuck it behind your ear for you.

The bell on the door chimes and you look over George's shoulder to see a bunch of familiar redheads walking in.

"Ah, Y/n," says Fred, floating towards your table. "Lovely to finally see you again after having to hear so much about you over Christmas."

You giggle as George thumps his brother with his book, face turning almost as red as his hair. "Stupid- git."

"This is the Y/n?" says Ron, another one of George's brothers.

His sister joins in too. "Ah, so you're the reason we had to come back early."

"Early?" you repeat, confused.

"Enough," snaps George. "Piss off, all of you," he says, fruitlessly shoving his siblings away from your table.

He groans. "Come on Y/n, we're leaving." He tugs on your hand, and you snort as his family's antics as you down the last sip of Butterbeer and hop off your seat.

"Until we meet again, Y/n." Fred salutes you as you exit, and you laugh as you wave to the rest of the Weasleys.

"Sorry about them," says George, slightly pink in the cheeks.

"Don't worry," you laugh. "It's fine. But what did Ginny mean when- hey!"

You're cut off as George yanks off his scarf and starts wrapping it around your neck and face. "...It's cold out," he explains weakly as you give him a look.

You pin him down with your gaze, and he sighs. "Fine."

He grabs your hand and leads you away from the Three Broomsticks, brushing snow off a park bench before sitting down.

Every memory he's had with you, every moment he's spent falling for you, flashes through his head.

The shy smile you had in your first few days of meeting, which he could only describe as cute, the mischievous glint in your eye when you'd almost recommended him a romance book, your laugh that he's memorised the sound of... damn it, he better not fuck this up.

You sit down beside him, giving him a concerned look.

"Okay, here it is," he says abruptly. "I like you."

You blink, caught off guard.

"You're so- you're bright," he says. "There's this light in you, and it's so fucking bright, and people don't see it. I don't get that. But whatever, they don't matter. I just mean, I've been pretty much blinded by you since we met... well, since I knocked you over running from Filch. I- god, fuck this metaphor. The point is, every time I'm not with you, I'm just wishing that I was. Cause I like you, and I wish- I'd hoped, that maybe you like me back?"

You're still silent, your brain trying to catch up with what your ears are hearing.

But George takes the silence differently. "It- it's okay if you don't. You know, I don't want to pressure you, at all. It's completely-"

"George." You take his hand. "I like you too, so damn much. I was just... I've never done this before. I didn't know if I should ask you out, or confess, or anything."

George lets out an incredulous breath. "Oh. Well then."

He rests his forehead against yours. "Y/n, will you do me the great honour of becoming my girlfriend."

You're smiling so much it almost hurts. "I'd love to," you whisper.

⭒----⭒

It's only on your first date, that you realise; "You know, we've practically be dating this whole time."

"What do you mean?" asks George, digging into his icecream.

"Meeting up, just the two of us. We've been doing it for ages, except we thought it was just book meetings."

The spoon stills halfway to George's mouth. "...fuck."

You snort, "We're both idiots, aren't we."

"Could've saved me so much grief if I'd known we were already dating. It was well shit, overthinking everything over the holidays."

"You mean when you missed me so much you convinced your whole family to come back to school early?"

"Sod off," he replies, nudging your foot and grinning. "You thought it was cute, anyway."

"I did."

There's a beat, before; "Kissing," you say, pointing your spoon at him. "We weren't totally dating, cause we didn't kiss."

"Right," agrees George, nodding. "Speaking of..."

You let out a laugh, setting your icecream down on the table, and then you let him pull you in.

Alosia, Chaolie, and GTL are just silly little details cause I can't help myself. Thank you for tolerating my self-indulgent easter eggs.

Thank you for reading, everyone! Hope you enjoyed my first fic in the HP universe <3

[an-aura-about-you]

I have finally got my house mostly clean including fully cleaning my bathroom, so let's see how much Handbook for Mortals I can do during the rest of my lunch.

going into Chapter 10 part 1:

when we last left our hero, Scheherazade hadn't really done anything, but we saw a bunch of boys gushing about her. seems kinda ironic since one of those characters bothers to mention that girls gush when they like a guy and we hadn't actually seen that yet.

anyway, Chapter 10: The Hanged Man

-tbh I can't think of the Hanged Man without thinking of Drumbot Brian in High Noon Over Camelot, and I would probably enjoy this a lot better if the Mechanisms showed up and caused a bunch of violence.

-Zade, as usual, is thinking about Mac and Jackson, but this time she's at the same bar where the gang celebrated Drew's birthday! idk if I mentioned that Zade wasn't there because she doesn't actually make an effort to make friends.

-she once again says Mac and Jackson had been friends before, but again, we don't really see this. Jackson spent his part of the last chapter needling Mac about how he's going after Zade. that is literally the only time we've seen those two interact and it was antagonistic.

-here we are, 11 chapters into the book (remembering to count Chapter 0) and we FINALLY get something resembling world building, and it's cribbed from Queen Terf's magical British school system books because Zade tells us it's frowned upon for those with magic (no I am not gonna spell it with the k) to get with mortals.

-this is also the first time Zade mentions ANYTHING about her father, and that's saying he's a mortal. this is insulting with all the other shit she's keeping under wraps about her dad.

-Zade's like, "I wasn't marrying anyone," as if we haven't been hit over the head every single time someone brings up dating that a long-term commitment is expected. girl, forever is not guaranteed. what happened to just dating people? for fun?

-quotations are placed weird in this bit:

Jackson was close to perfect minus the whole "just a mortal situation"

also

...something I hadn't quite place [sic] my finger on.

-"It could just be fear and my lack of ability to want to make a decision." excuse the fuck outta me?????? I'm so mad that this is going unexamined. you KNOW you're gonna have to make a choice at SOME point right? if you're insisting that the love triangle is the most significant thing going on in this book, that means you're gonna have to figure out WHY you don't want to make a decision. is it the destiny bullshit? do you have any agency at all??????

-this following passage pisses me off so bad:

I have always hated making tough decisions, but usually the tarot was far more helpful than it had been so far, considering that it hadn't given me a clear-cut winner no matter how I asked it. Its "freewill clause" must have been behind some kind of weird lesson I was supposed to learn.

first off, you IGNORED a trump card in your spread because you ~didn't know why it was there~ meaning you're skipping over any insight you might have gotten from it. (though if we're going with my interpretation, you overlooked it because seeing it would have meant admitting to yourself that you're the problem.) you also overlooked part of the nature of the Lovers in your spread, a fairly important part since its imagery was mirrored in another card in that same spread.

second, what the fuck do you mean by this "freewill clause" bullshit???? I know you're some kind of fatalist, but if that's the case why are you even entertaining the idea of free will? and if you're not a fatalist, then you know that means the cards are telling you that YOU'RE the one who has to make the choice on this one, right?????

I get. so very mad when tarot cards are viewed this way. they help you make decisions through interrogation, meditation, and self-examination, not because they're a 78-sided die in a Magic 8 Ball!

(╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻

my poor tarot cards are now scattered all over the floor.

and my lunch is basically over so we're putting a pin in it.

[maarigolds]

If I wanted to feel less worried about a renewal what facts are looking good for Lockwood and Co? Things in their favor?

Ok look I'm definitely the wrong person to ask this to because I'm usually a staunch pessimist but-

There are a few things that do give me hope*:

*and when I say a few I actually mean here's 1k word essay bc I'm slowly going crazy. You're welcome.

The numbers are not fantastic, but they're not bad either. I feel like we keep on saying that we need more views (and we do. we always do.) but the situation is really not that terrible. We're somewhere in the middle, actually. The show is not super popular online, so it feels like people didn't watch it, but they did, they're just not talking about online as much as I wish they would. Also, as we've already said many times, there are quite a few netflix shows that have a similar budget to l&co that have been renewed for a second season despite having lower views (locke&key, winx, warrior nun).

The show is British. I know that this might sound weird as a reason why it should be renewed, but hear me out: the show is definitely targeted towards brits and all the press they did was in the uk. That's the main audience netflix is interested in, and the show has done pretty damn good over there. The numbers are lower in other countries because netflix didn't fucking promote the show anywhere else- but that's a story for another day.

Joe Cornish is planning to only do 3 seasons. The story is already there, it fits neatly into a three seasons run, and netflix knows this. It's not like Joe is setting up a high budget show that, if people like, could take 7 seasons and 12 years to make (like sense8 was, for example). Plans have been made already to make three seasons, and that means that, when netflix greenlit the first season, they already knew how much the whole thing would cost. it's a much safer bet for them. It was the same thing for Locke&key, and they got the three seasons they wanted.

The pandemic is pretty much over (it's really not, but as far as netflix is concerned it is). Netflix has cancelled a shitload of stuff lately, we know this, much more than other streaming platforms did. However, one of the reasons why that happened, was the pandemic. All production was stopped and that meant that either shows couldn't physically be made, or that it took so long for them to come back that people had lost interest. Luckily that's not the case anymore, so maybe the number of cancelled shows will go down in the next year.

The production is shared with Joe Cornish's company, complete fiction. That always helps. Also its called complete fiction so fucKING COMPLETE THE SHOW YOU COWARDS

The reviews are good. Not that it matters all that much with netflix, but surely it's a positive.

I really really want it so bad. Please.

Ok I'm done cause I have to go to class in like 15 minutes so yeah

Keep streaming the show in the background. Tell everyone about it (but don't be obnoxious cause that never works). Make art and videos and gifs and fanfics and analysis and anything you feel like doing. Because every little thing helps 💙🖤🧡

[f1]

Norris says McLaren in a 'good place' but plays down chances of repeating Silverstone success in Hungary

Lando Norris says he and McLaren are in a “good place” heading into Budapest, after scoring their first podium of the season at Silverstone – although he warned that a repeat this weekend at the Hungarian Grand Prix might be an outside bet. After a slow start to the season, McLaren and Norris have showed improved pace in recent races. Following the introduction of their first major upgrade package of the year, the Briton finished fourth in Austria, before taking second place last time out at the British GP. READ MORE: Ricciardo says he’s ‘fallen in love’ with F1 again as he admits Red Bull return is his ‘dream’ And speaking to the media ahead of this weekend’s action in Budapest – which Norris travelled to alongside returning former team mate Daniel Ricciardo, who's set to drive for AlphaTauri for the rest of the season – the McLaren driver gave an insight into the atmosphere surrounding him and the team at the moment. “I feel good. I always feel good coming off a podium,” said Norris. “I had a weekend for it all to sink in, just to make the most of it, you know? A nice weekend off, a week of celebrating, and a week of relaxing, making sure we are ready for this weekend. “A little trip in with Daniel today. Good to see him again. I mean, I’ve seen him a lot this year already, but nice to see him back in the car – we’ll see how he does. Norris is hopeful he and McLaren can continue their run of strong recent performances in Budapest “But I’m feeling good, good place as a team, performing well, doing lots of things well, just a few steps forward after the last few weeks, hopefully we can continue that.” Of the back of a podium at the fast-paced Silverstone circuit, Norris was asked how he felt they would fare at a much slower Hungaroring track. He sceptically replied: “No matter what the outlook of it all is, we are not very good in the low-speed. READ MORE: ‘I never wanted him to leave!’ – Verstappen gives his take on potential future reunion with Ricciardo at Red Bull “We’re not terrible. If you fully focus on slow-speed, we’re not too bad. If you look at Monaco, we’re not too bad in Monaco. I guess when you have to start to make compromises, there are much bigger wins for us in high-speed than focusing so much on low speed. “I guess [it was] not bad here last year. This was not a bad weekend for us with a car that we struggled a lot with at the start of the season. So, I still want to be hopeful. But as I said, I doubt it’s going to be as good as Silverstone because there’s no high-speed.” Piastri (L) is hopeful of having more chances of fighting for the podium in the future Team mate Oscar Piastri narrowly missed out on the podium at Silverstone, as he was left to rue the timing of the Safety Car that saw him finish fourth. However, coming into Budapest, Piastri was looking much more at the positives. “Mostly satisfaction,” said Piastri, when asked how he viewed finishing fourth at the British GP. “Compared to where we had been at points during the season, to be disappointed with fourth place seemed a little bit harsh. NEED TO KNOW: The most important facts, stats and trivia ahead of the 2023 Hungarian Grand Prix “Without that Safety Car there is always a question of what could have been. I was just super happy to be back towards the front and for the whole team, to be genuinely there on merit was very refreshing and a nice reward for our hard work, I think. “Now we've got to try and maintain that, and try and fight towards the front again. I was thinking there might be a trophy coming my way for a lot of that race, but hopefully I've got some more chances.” via Formula 1 News https://www.formula1.com

[froggywritesstuff]

Rivals | John Laurens

Chapter 1: Captured

(masterlist)

"Bloody hell," Francis gasped as he saw the newest prisoner get thrown into the dungeon. He'd never be able to admit it, but he made his heart swoon, and he was barely even conscious.

"L/N! Stand watch, will you?" 

One of the guards ask him, snapping him back to reality.

He turned to him, realizing it was Henry Williams, one of his fellow soldiers.

Francis gave a quick nod, taking Henry’s place as he walked away, “Thanks, sir.”

Francis cringed slightly, but luckily Henry missed it. He did expect things like that when he first joined the war, and was prepared, but sometimes it caught her off guard when he was mistaken as a man. 

That’s right. Francis was actually a 25 year old woman named Y/N, pretending to be a man to fight in the war.

When Henry left the room and was out of sight, Y/N stepped closer to the dungeon, peering between the bars. Despite him being drenched in blood, eyes drooping with a scowl glued to his face, she couldn’t take her eyes off of him. 

 Of course she mentally scolded herself for the sudden attraction to the prisoner for many reasons. One, being he was a blue coat. Second, he was a man and the fact that Y/N was acting as a man would earn both of them enough hate to last a life time. Third, he was a blue coat!

Well, that wasn’t a huge problem for Y/N.

See, cross dressing and fighting in the British army wasn’t exactly her dream job.

It was her mother’s.

Y/N’s mum had always been crazy about the war and slavery, and had dreamed of one of her children to fight in it, but had been blessed with only one daughter. But that didn’t stop her. She had Y/N start cross dressing from a young age so she would at least have a chance to join the war.

Miraculously, it worked. And here she was, dressed as a man, standing watch in front of one of the hottest soldiers she had ever seen. Well she would never say that.

”What, you here to make sure I don’t escape?” the prisoner asked, his voice tired and hoarse.

Well that caught Y/N off guard. Luckily, she recomposes herself, clearing her throat, “Yes, actually. What were you meant to be doing when we were beating your ass?” She responded in her deepest voice.

Well that caught the prisoner off guard for sure. He would never have expected a British soldier to be that quick witted. But there was something about that voice that had him puzzled, though he shook it off and turned back to the soldier.

"You know, tryna end slavery. Just the usual." he replied with a smirk, ignoring the shock of pain that was sent onto his lips.

Y/N tried to ignore the excitement she was feeling. She had heard her fellow soldiers talk about one of the blue coats, known as John Laurens and his plan to end slavery. 

She cleared her throat once again, “Laurens, is it?”

See, Y/N has never liked the concept of slavery. She didn’t understand why people needed slaves, and why they supported it. 

John stood up and walked toward the rusted bars, "You've heard of me?"

Y/N let out a huff, "Don't get too cocky, John," she sassed, almost forgetting to deepen her voice.

John did a quick roll of his eyes, before asking, "And you are?"

"L/N." Y/N replied quickly, worried he would be suspicious of her fake name.

"Do I get a first name?" he asked with a sly grin, once again, the cuts on his lips stinging at every movement.

"Maybe when we get out."

John scoffed, "Sure."

Y/N marched closer to John, grabbing him by the collar and pushing him against the bars, "Listen, twit, we've known each other for less than a minute, but we've got something in common."

John winced as his already bruised collarbone smashed against the bars, but managed to whisper, "And what's that?"

"A dream," Y/N replied with sparkling eyes.

John, becoming impatient, spat with a roll of his eyes, "Which is?"

Y/N mimicked his eye roll before sighing, "To end slavery."

Y/N's grip on John's shoulders loosened, allowing him to slip out, "Yeah right."

"And to get out of this nasty place." Y/N whispered, attempting to grab John's attention again.

With a sigh, John turned around, "And how do I trust you? How do I know you're not just tricking me? That this isn't just some sort of trap?"

"You don't. But it's either me, or months of torture, eventually leading to your inevitable death," Y/N said ever so casually. John eyed Y/N suspiciously before she added, "I'm your only option, mate."

John looked around skeptically, clenching his jaw, “You got a plan?”

”My mum’s had me in this hell hole for too long, man. I’ve figured something out.”

Y/N pulled out the keys to the cell from her pockets hesitantly, before turning back to John. He was wide eyed at the keys, barely processing the whole thing. 

“If you try and escape without me, just remember that I can and will kill you.” Y/N threatened sternly.

”This is a terrible decision to trust you, isn’t it?”

Y/N shrugged, pushing the keys in the lock, “Your only decision, so,” she paused as the lock clicked, followed by the door swinging open, “Probably is the worst one.”

Y/N grabbed John’s hand so hard, he felt it would rip off.

Despite al the pain he was feeling, he ran along side Y/N, and began their escape from the castle.

As they ran through halls, Y/N suddenly skidded to a halt, confusing John.

”What are you doing?!” He whispered shouted.

”Shut it,” Y/N hissed, yanking her hand away from John’s. She marched up to a stool where an abandoned red coat lay. In a hurry,  she snatched it and threw it into John’s arms.

”Seriously?” He asked, annoyance drenching his words.

“I said shut it! Now put on the damn coat!” Y/N shut him up quickly.

John reluctantly slipped the coat on and the pair continued their run.

”You even know how to get out of here?” John asked, beginning to regret his decision.

”How you going with trusting me?” Y/N retorted.

”You know, it’d be a bit easier if you told me your plan,” John huffed as they turned a corner.

”Why? So you can abandon me with a way out? Nice try, Laurens,”

”How are you going with trusting me?” John asked, giving Y/N a hard look.

Y/N rolled her eyes, about to make a snarky remark, when something dawned on her, making her stop in her tracks.

”What now?” John sighed.

”Can you shut up?” Y/N whisper shouted, earning a look of shock from John, “Just walk with me, Laurens.”

John stared in shock as Y/N casually walked, “W-what if someone catches us?”

”We’d more likely just caught if someone saw two red coats sprinting down the hall as I’d they were escaping,”

John huffed, walking with Y/N, “If we get caught, I’m blaming you.” He hissed.

”That will not be necessary, Laurens. We’re not getting caught.” Y/N replied smugly. 

As if on cue, the familiar voice of Henry Williams shouted from behind the two, “L/N? Is that you?”

The pair froze in fear.

Y/N shakily hummed in response, not daring to turn back.

”Who’s watching Laurens?”

Y/N was speechless, John not much help either. Just staring at Y/N, a face of sympathy and worry.

”L/N?” Henry repeated, “Who’s watching Laurens?”

John grabbed Y/N‘s hand, leaned in close and whispered, “Run?”

“Sure,”

The two were off again, sprinting down the halls. 

Henry’s voice boomed from behind, shouting out orders and commands that Y/N didn’t want to hear.

”Some plan,” John chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood, unaware that it had the exact opposite effect he wanted.

”Oh, give me a break, mate,” Y/N huffed, forgetting to deepen her voice. 

That went unnoticed to her, but not to John, “Wait, what?”

The realization it Y/N so hard she tripped over her feet. Luckily, John caught her by the arm and they continued to run around a corner where no one could see them.

”I-I’m just saying, I’m trying my best to get our asses out of here!” Y/N stuttered, her voice deeper to raise less suspicions. 

John just stared at Y/N for a moment in confusion, but shook it off, continuing the run.

Y/N led John around another corner and they sprinted down a case of stairs.

With seven steps to go, the pair subconsciously linked their hands together, fingers intertwining.

As the two were running, Y/N‘s pace slowed down, eyes shifting from window to window.

“What’s wrong?” John asked, trying his best to hide the worry he was feeling.

The two took a moment to catch their breaths, before Y/N spoke, “One of these windows.”

 John only then realized they were holding hands, and with a blush, yanked his hand away, “Thought you knew this place inside and out,”

Y/N looked down with a blush, also just realizing that they were holding hands, “Hey, that’s not what I said,” Y/N defended firmly, giving John a hard glare.

”Yeah, well you implied it, L/N!” John spat, returning the glare.

“Yeah, we’ll maybe-“

The two were interrupted by Henry Williams shouts from upstairs, “They’re down here!”

John and Y/N looked upstairs where they heard Henry.

”Now what?” John asked harshly.

Y/N took in a quick breath, staring out the window.

”What?!” John repeated, becoming impatient.

Y/N turned back to John, and asked breathlessly, “Do you trust me?”

”What?” John asked, now irritated.

”Bloody hell- do you trust me?!” Y/N repeated, irritated as well.

John turned to look upstairs, before turning his gaze back to Y/N. 

A shaky nod was all he could give.

In a heartbeat, Y/N reached for his hand, leaped toward the windows, and smashed through the window.

The cold air hit the two like a baseball bat as small snowflakes fell onto their hair. Shards of glass shattered all around, leaving cuts on their cheeks, hands and arms. John and Y/N intertwined fingers once again before they hit the cold, wet snow. 

Their coats became damp as they rolled down the snowy hill. Luckily, they had only jumped out the window of the second floor.

The pair had their arms wrapped around each other as they rolled down the hill, John leaving a trail of blood from the wounds he’d received before hand. 

Y/N had her eyes squeezed shut from fear, while John was slowly loosing conscious with every bump in the hill. He still held Y/N tight, using all of his energy in worry that they wouldn’t make it out alive.

Eventually, the two stopped at a tree, where John’s head had banged into the tree, the last straw, resulting in his concussion.

John’s plan had worked.

Despite the cuts and scratches she had, Y/N made it out alive.

”John?” She asked, her eyes still shut. With no reply, worry flashed through her mind. Her eyes fluttered open, surprised when she was in one piece. She sat up on her knees when she noticed John’s unconscious body against the tree. 

“John?!” She placed a hand around his neck, attempting to find a pulse. The faint beat of his heart sent a wave of relief over Y/N. 

She sat John upright against the tree, her hands caressing his temples. Sadness washed over Y/N at all of his cuts and bruises her fellow soldiers had given to him. She stared at his bruised eye lids, when she heard shouts from afar.

”This way!”

Y/N didn’t want to find out who the voice belonged to, but she knew it wouldn’t be good. She looped her arms around John’s and dragged him to the other side of the tree, holding him tight.

She held his head against her chest and his legs on top of hers, praying to God no redcoat would see them.

Holding her hand over John’s mouth and holding her breath, she heard the slight sound of footsteps passing by, “They’re here! I swear!”

Y/N smirked as they ran away, “Nice try, Williams.” 

With that, she lifted John bridal style, taking off her coat and giving to him as a blanket, before trudging on through the snow.

[alltheselights]

(1/3) hi, I saw the ask abt the photoshoot and I literally agree with everything u said like they fucking try to push the smoking thing too hard im sure he doesn't smoke that much cause people who met him say he smells like baby powder and vanilla (aww) they try so hard to push the BriT LaD image so much on him like obviously he's brit but not THAT im sure cause we've known him for abt 10 yrs so we all know what his cloth preferences our and how his nature is like I remember he had the most

(2/3) flamboyant and most colourful clothing style from fucking 2011 even more than the other boys, like we say harry is trendy but I remember every bandmate said L like buys clothes everywhere he goes and has the most clothes and he wears so damn expensive clothes and they r all in trend , I hate when people put him down to the trackies im not hating on harry its just dont unsee the other things just to give into stereotypes , other topic I'd like to discuss is Being fem but I'd cause lot of

(3/3) of fight but I'd say L is just as fem as H his gestures,style,(for those who believe in stereotypes) lot more thing I remember a vid of X factor 18 where he was oblivious to the camera so was sitting cross legged but as soon as he noticed it he opened his legs I swear it broke my heart so much I despise simon for this shit he forced L to be , L explicitly said ' of playing someone I was supposed to be' but no we will close r ears and eyes I hope his new era is full of

hi the L photoshoot and image anon (cont): full of him being himself & hopefully ending of bg at least & great label which provides lots of promo and recognition he deserves (Louis is damn intelligent &I trust him so Im sure he must have chosen a great label and everything for the new era) but the most at least let him be himself (intervies,outfits,rock songs,everything)the diva+honey+baby he is & not the BrIT laD pls Im sorry this became long rant but ur thought were same so I told u ,thank u

I definitely think that Louis is not the same person he was when he was 19, and probably a lot of the things he wore then, he genuinely doesn’t enjoy now. That a part of growing up and is normal. But I also agree that a lot of his personality has been suppressed for years due to media training and the different images that they’ve decided to push for him, first while he was in the band and now again with his solo career. I think he’s just a much more complex person than they ever portray and that’s super frustrating because those genuine glimpses of who he is mean so much more and i think would win over way more people.

And I do feel like the fandom ignores a lot of Louis’ complexities just because they’re not used as part of his image the way they are for Harry. Louis is feminine and flamboyant and sweet and loving and kind, but you often see him being portrayed by the fandom as super masculine and rude and always the protector, never the protected or the vulnerable (which is even more bizarre considering some of the songs on his album). The style thing is also frustrating. If you heard him talk in interviews or saw his photoshoots, you’d think he has no style whatsoever, but we know from what other people have said about his shopping habits and from the fact that all the boys envied his style back in the day and from the way he dresses in his downtime that he does care about fashion and actually has amazing style. His stylist on the other hand....

You also see him being set as a counter to Harry ALL the time, which is so frustrating because it’s just not accurate. While Harry is also a complex person with a masculine and a feminine side and with a wide variety of characteristics, you often see Harry’s femininity as part of his public image and his flamboyance is part of his stage persona. Louis’ tends to be what comes out when his guard down or when he thinks nobody is paying attention. We may not see it as often, but it’s very genuine, and I wish it was appreciated more because I think it continues to be an important part of who he is.

I often wish we could just see Louis without the weight of the last ten years on him because I do wonder who he would be and how he would dress and how he would talk and what he would look like. We’ll never know how much of who he is today is the product of what’s been pushed on him and how much of it is just his natural progression as a person growing up.

And Louis doesn’t have to wear stripes and red pants and suspenders to be sweet or flamboyant or lovely or anything else I believe him to be, he doesn’t have to be the same person he was when he was 19, he can still embrace his Britishness and enjoy Oasis and banter with people and speak his mind and prefer dressing in black and red and all of those things, but I do think it’s clear that his image is very one-dimensional and not completely authentic. Those other aspects of who he is that we see small glimpses of here and there - how sweet and caring he is, the fact that he’s shy, his flamboyance, his vulnerability, the fact that he’s the one everyone says they go to when they need to talk about their feelings, his incredible style and taste in clothes that you mentioned - all of those more gentle and genuine characteristics demonstrate how complex and amazing of a person he is, and I think the world would embrace Louis the way so many of us do if they saw more of that.

[dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram]

Hey, thanks so much for your deep dove into the Nick/Harry/Louis situation, I am one of the anons asking about it. I seriously thought that the phone call from Harry was from the most recent “Nick leaving radio” last episode of his radio show, which I think was like this year? So seriously no words from Harry on that occasion? And also, I am so so surprised of the radio silence from Nick (and from Lou T as well, that’s another relationship that I don’t get) towards Harry’s house… very fascinating indeed how there’s not a single shitty British magazine talking about this ever. Crazy! So all in all the last interaction between Nick and Harry was the phone message in 2021?

Harry did leave a message with Sinnead for Nick's last episode on Radio 1 - sorry if I wasn't clear. Nick's last radio 1 show was August 2021. We've certainly seen no sign of them interacting since then (although Nick did instragram Harry L by the bins).

I'm not at all surprised that Nick is silent about Harry's House, when he was silent about Fine Line, and it was his job to talk about it. Things must be so much more relaxing for him now (or at least until the book comes out).

And yeah I'm absolutely fascinated that nobody who ever has to write clickbait has ever written up this story.

Why don't you understand Harry and Lou T's relationship? I don't think we can know what it's like now (and there's certainly been quite a few complicating factors). But work friends who see each other less than they used to fits quite well. And I wouldn't expect her to post about Harry's music.

[ilovebeingcalledawhore]

JULIET | DONGHYUCK

Content: Fluff, Theatre actor au, Suggestive Content

Summary: You’ve been catching feelings for the main lead of the school’s play “Romeo and Juliet” and you sure wished you were Juliet but you didn’t know that it was actually happening!

Note: I do NOT own the story(Romeo & Juliet) but I own this drabble’s plot and the bits taken from the script are from here.

Warning: I use British spelling.

ONE-SHOT

"Lucky her" I pouted, sulking into Lia’s arms, my head resting on her shoulders while I fake sobbed. I stared at the bulletin board with the names of the students who passed the audition for the school's upcoming production, the classic Shakespeare story, Romeo and Juliet.

"She probably paid her way into the role, it would've totally been you" Lia replied and I raised my head to see the scowl on her face. "You're so nice to me" I uttered, plopping my head back onto her shoulder and she sighed. "All I'm saying is, the school is dumb for not seeing your talent"

The pout on my face turned more evident and my hate for the standard-less staff worsened. I knew I deserved that role, I wanted to be the lead for once and Mina just had to ruin it for me, but it wasn't just about the play, there was something more to it, more like, someone. 

Lee Donghyuck, basically the most looked up to in the theatre organisation of our school. He's highly skilled and can turn from an assassin into a whiny girl. I for one, have been extremely impressed by him, except for the time he ran around in his red polka-dotted dress. Somebody remove that image off my mind.

Anyways, coming back to the topic. My goal this year was to star in the production with him, both leading the play and maybe even sharing a kiss at the end but dreams are only dreams. I fake sobbed harder causing Lia to slap me hard on the back.

"Stop being a big baby and get over it" she said, walking away abruptly leaving my head hanging on nothing. The sudden emptiness made me fall down face flat, well...almost. "Ah!" I screamed, expecting the painful hit but instead, two hands pushed my shoulders tightly, reeling me back to stand.

My eyes were still shut and my hands were tightly gripping onto nothing as they rested on my sides. "You can open your eyes now" somebody chuckled but no, this wasn't just somebody. I knew this voice, considering the fact that I loved listening to it.

I opened my lids and there he was in front of me, in his black joggers and oversized hoodie. He looked breath taking, well...not really, I noticed the melted chocolate on the sides of his face. Still hellishly adorable though.

"Congrats on getting the role by the way" I greeted with hesitation, my mind replaying the incident just seconds earlier. He rubbed the nape of his neck with a grin as his eyes landed on his name right at the top of the list, with the words 'Lead:' beside it.

"Thanks" he muttered, giving me a soft glance. I wanted to say something else but I felt the piercing gaze of Lia behind my back, I wouldn't keep her waiting. "Alright, see you around" I said, walking away, linking my arms on Lia's while I puffed my cheeks in excitement.

Holy shit!

You think exams are hard?

Trying my best not to scream in joy was one hell of a challenge. He talked to me! He talked to me! Those words ran around my head like a marathon "Okay lover girl, you need to calm down" Lia chuckled at my red face, calling me out, noticing that we were finally far away from Donghyuck.

"He's so cute" I uttered, an upset pout appearing on my face. It's truly unfair, that's what it is. 

We were quietly walking around the campus, discussing the physics test when we saw Mr. Kim, the English teacher and the nurse running in the hall. The teacher spotted us and called out our names. "Y/n, Lia!" He beckoned and we ran. The worried look on the nurses' face was a sign that it was serious because all throughout the years I've studied here, she’s never frowned.

We abruptly ran into the clinic and the first thing we saw was a girl laid down on the bed, her legs in some type of supporter. She was crying loudly, the cracks in her voice showing how much pain she was in.

That's when I realised who it was, Kang Mina. "Help us carry her," Mr. Kim said and there was a brief moment when me and Lia exchanged looks with each other but we complied. It wasn't that hard to carry her, considering the fact that there were four of us and the emergency medical technicians aka the people from the ambulance met us half way and carried Mina for us.

Minutes later, the teacher and nurse left, leaving me and Mina standing there dumbfounded."If she's gone.....who's going to be Juliet?" I muttered and Lia shrugged. Like it was perfectly timed, my phone dinged and I pulled it out my pocket to see a notification.

It was from Mrs. Choi, the production's administrator. 

Good Afternoon Ms. Y/L/N, 

You and two other girls have been chosen to get a call back for the lead role of Juliet in the upcoming production, "Romeo and Juliet", because of some circumstances, changes have had to be made. The auditions would be tomorrow at lunch time in the hall.

Kind Regards,

Mr. Choi

"Oh my goodness!" I screamed and Lia looked at me like I was crazy. "I might be Juliet!" I whisper-squealed and I saw her face light up. "Hell yeah!" We jumped up and down in the middle of the hallway, ignoring the looks of some students passing by.

_____

"By whose direction foundst thou out this place?" I spoke worriedly like the distraught female from the story. "By love, who first did prompt me to inquire; He lent me counsel and I lent him eyes. I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far, as that vast shore wash'd with the farthest sea, I would adventure for such merchandise." He replied.

Yes…’he’ replied! The audition required us to act with Donghyuck to see which of us had the best chemistry with him. "Thank you" Mr. Choi cut us off and we were about to leave the stage when some judges stopped us. "No, stay" they signalled, causing us to go back to the centre.

"We've chosen our new Juliet," Ms. Wang, the art's department's head, proclaimed. The current cast and the two other girls sat there excitedly meanwhile, I stood there my mind blanking because Donghyuck was standing a little too close to me. Enough for me to take in his scent and how warm his sweater was.

"Let's all congratulate Y/n!" and the small crowd in the hall clapped but that didn't matter. What stuck most to me was how excited Donghyuck screamed and took me in his arms like I belonged there.

I am euphoric.

_________

I am frustrated

 I read the lines again and again, memorising every single world, every single coma and period. I wasn’t going to embarrass myself in front of him, I wanted to impress him with my skills. I was going to be the perfect Juliet and he’s going to be Romeo. 

He is my Romeo.

“Don’t stress too much” He stood beside me, nudging my side with his covered elbow. The play was starting in twenty minutes and the seats of the auditorium filled up quickly.  I wore a white gown, a vintage yet fairy tale like gown, with golden linings which added some type of elegant effect to it. Meanwhile, Donghyuck wore a prince-like suit but not too showy. It was navy blue and it had less details than mine did, perfectly portraying Romeo’s character.

He looked dashing and I looked like a disaster. No I didn’t, but if you took a little peek in my mind right now, you’d fly off from the intensity. 

I must do well.

___

“Don’t saints and pilgrims have lips too?” he asked, intertwining our fingers. “Yes, pilgrim, they have lips that they’re supposed to pray with” I replied. “Well then, saint, let lips do what hands do. I'm praying for you to kiss me. Please grant my prayer so my faith doesn’t turn to despair” he winked at me quickly and I had to stop myself from grinning.

“Saints don’t move, even when they grant prayers” I raised my brow. “Then don’t move while I act out my prayer”  Donghyuck slowly walked closer to me and little yelps and sounds of excitement left the audience's mouths. 

He kissed me. His soft lips locked into mine a little harder and deeper than I expected. The director never told us to do it whilst practising to keep the feeling authentic. 

“Now my sin has been taken from my lips to yours” he said as he pulled away but not far.

“Then do my lips now have the sin they took from yours?” I asked, a small smile creeping up my lips as the warm flame and electricity ran down my body.

“Sin from my lips? You encourage crime with your sweetness. Give me my sin back” he said as he pushed a strand of my hair behind my ear. The audience cooed once more in excitement as he leaned forward, a grin on his pink lips.

We kissed again, a little longer, a little slower, a little more in love.

He walked into my heart like he belonged there, took down my walls and lit my soul on fire.

-T.M.

[funesgoal]

Undercover | Will Halstead (part 1)

Pairing: Will Halstead x Ruzek!reader

Word count: 1,174

Summary: Y/N is Adam Ruzek's sister but she is also very good at being undercover. Her aptitudes are very good for a cop, except she isn’t one. One night she chooses the wrong target and everything starts to go wrong.

Warnings: +16, kinda hot, robbery.

Part 2

The woman started walking to the bar. The stilettos resonated with every step she took. She took one look until she found a target. Bingo.

A tall man, he had a suit that looked expensive and was taking a long drink. She could smell the dollars from a distance. She came over and sat down on the bench next to him.

Her butt, tight in that little red dress, looked bigger than ever. She took advantage of that and sat down in the middle of the seat to make it look even more voluptuous.

“A martini, please" she muttered to the barman. She stretched out on the table to order and of course, he looked just where she wanted him to.

“I invite you" a male voice appeared. She turned around and looked at him from top to bottom. “And get one for me too.”

“Do you think you'll get my attention that easily?" she said in a British accent, making things more difficult. She knew what she was doing, it wasn't the first time. Men like him liked to play before they got to second base.

“Haven't you been watching me since you arrived?” The man raised an eyebrow, looking ironic. Y/N didn't like what she had heard. She had been looking at him longer than she should have, and of course, he noticed.

“Do you want the truth?" She said, in the sexiest voice he'd ever heard. She played with his long blond hair a little. “I had never been with a redheaded man before.”

He laughed. He put his tongue to his lips to soak them. She knew what he was doing. He was stalling because he didn't know what to say. Touché.

“Welcome to America, miss, the land of opportunity.”

The martinis came and both of them approached. Y/N was taking the bait, just like she wanted.

“And what's your story?” He asked, "Are you on vacation here?”

She took a little sip and nodded. “I'm here for work. I arrived just today.”

“And did you like what you saw so far?”

She looked him in the eyes and gave him a captivating look. “I like it very much, yes.”

It took a couple more drinks to make things more comfortable. The guy said they could go to his house. Y/N was a little sorry for him. The truth was she was liking him. Under different conditions, she would have liked to have done things right. When he parked the car, the girl took her time to inspect the place, before getting out. She was grateful there were no security cameras anywhere on the block. As soon as she crossed the threshold of his door, she knew she hadn't made a mistake.

He was a surgeon at Chicago Med. He probably had everything she had come for. The woman took off her coat as she watched him. He was putting the personal items he had taken out of his pockets on a small table by the door. Keys, cell phone, wallet. “Will you have a drink?”

She smiled at him. “Don't you think we've had enough to drink?” The young woman was on the sofa, her legs were crossed, one on top of the other. She wasn't stupid. She knew her dress had been lifted. And she knew that was all he was looking at.

“Yes, I think you're right. I'm sorry.” He pounced on her. She immediately felt the couch sink under her. The man's hands caressed her entire body over her dress as both mouths melted into a passionate kiss. They seemed to be struggling to breathe but neither wanted to break the bond anyway. She pulled the buttons on his shirt to pull it out. She was the one who took the initiative, of course. She took his belt with one hand and unbuckled it, while with the other she unzipped his pants.

“Hey, hey, wait” the doctor stepped back. He looked into her eyes in the darkness, illuminated only by a lamp “I don't even know your name.”

“I don't know yours either” she decided to take the lead in the situation and made him fall on the couch beside her. She ran both legs over his. She started kissing his neck.

“My name is Will” he said. “And yours?”

“You can call me Agatha Christie, Will.” He began to laugh at her comment and let himself be kissed by her. He unzipped her dress and gently stroked her back.

“Are you going to let me finish what I started or are you suddenly part of the CIA, Will?” He nodded, no longer paying much attention. He just let himself go. And so he kept doing it. “Yeah, I thought so” Y/N continued her work by starting to leave a path of kisses from his neckk, through his chest, his biceps, his stomach... all the way down. “Oh, wait” she stopped. “If we're gonna do this, we need protection.”

“Oh, yeah. I got one in-”

“Don't worry?” she said, smiling “I got it. I'll get my bag, I'll be right back.” She kissed him one last time and walked to her purse. It was small enough to carry everything she needed. That meant a gun and a syringe. Usually, she didn't use the gun (although she didn't hesitate if the time came) but she did use the syringe, without fail. She filled it, in the middle of the darkness, trying to do it quickly so as not to arouse suspicion.

Seven milligrams of midazolam. Perfect.

She hid the needle in her hand, drawing his attention as she approached so the man would not notice. “Did you find it?” He asked as she approached. “Of course I did.” She climbed onto his legs, once more, and pulled his hair. He groaned, making her feel things. Things she never felt when she was doing her business. But Y/N didn't have time to think about it now. She stuck the tip of the needle in the man's back and injected the liquid into him. She continued to kiss him for at least forty more seconds until she realized he was already asleep. She separated from him.

“I'm sorry, Will, you were really cute.” Y/N don't know about sentimental. She didn't have any time to waste. She went up and down the house looking for money. She found some cash, she was sure it wasn't much for him, but for her, every penny counted. She took one last look at him, grabbed her shoes and her wallet. She dressed presentably once more so she could get the hell out of there. Once she got to the door she took his wallet. She took all the credit cards he had. She felt something in his stomach as soon as she saw his ID photo. But it couldn't be guilt. Y/N L/N didn't feel guilt, ever.

“I’m really sorry," she whispered as she put away what she had found in her purse and bra, even though she knew he couldn't hear her.

[jewish-privilege]

Seventy-five years ago, on April 26, 1943, SS Gruppenführer–a rank equivalent to major-general–Jürgen Stroop reported to his superiors that his shock troops had that day combed through “the entire former living quarter” of the Warsaw Ghetto. “Practically without exception,” Stroop wrote,

the shock troops reported resistance that was nonetheless completely broken through returning of fire or blowing up bunkers. It appears that the ranks are finding the Jews and bandits most tenacious and capable of resistance. Several bunkers were forcibly opened whose inhabitants had not come to the surface since the beginning of the Action. In a series of cases the inhabitants of the bunkers, after the bunkers had been successfully blown up, were scarcely able to crawl to the surface. According to statements of the captured Jews, a large number of inhabitants in the bunkers have become insane due to the heat, the thick smoke and the successful explosions.

This was the eighth day of the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising, the first organized urban armed resistance against the Nazis in German-occupied Europe. Stroop wrote that the “result of today’s undertaking” was as follows:

30 Jews displaced, 1,330 Jews pulled out of the bunkers and immediately destroyed, 362 Jews shot in battle. In total captured today: 1,722 Jews. Thereby the total number of captured Jews was raised to 29,186. Beyond that, it is likely that countless Jews died in the 13 blown-up bunkers and through fires.

Seventy-three years ago, on April 26, 1945, tens of thousands of erstwhile inmates of the Nazi concentration camp of Bergen-Belsen near the German city of Hanover were struggling to remain alive. When British troops had entered the camps 11 days earlier, they encountered a devastation of humanity for which they were entirely unprepared. Most of the 58,000 inmates there, the overwhelming majority of them Jews, were too weak even to walk. In the main camp, more than 40,000 prisoners were crammed into barracks that should have held no more than 8,000; between 15,000 and 25,000 more who had arrived in early April from the Dora-Mittelbau concentration camp complex were in barracks of a nearby Wehrmacht army base. My mother, who had been at Bergen-Belsen since the previous November when she was sent there from Auschwitz-Birkenau, described the camp in the days prior to liberation as:

an indescribable hell. . . . The camp was overcrowded. Typhus, tuberculosis, and other epidemics raged. In the hospital and throughout the camp about a thousand people a day lay on the floor, starving and dying. . . . The small crematorium could not cope with all the corpses, even though it was kept burning day and night. The unburned corpses were strewn all over the camp. The SS, who felt that their own end was near, cut off the water and electricity. We were given one piece of bread per person only three times a week and one-half bowl of so-called soup daily. On top of this the Germans kept us in mortal fear by telling us that the camp was surrounded by mines and that we would be blown up if we tried to escape. Such was our situation on the eve of liberation. Disease, starvation, despair, fear, and not a single ray of hope.

...Within a few days following the liberation [of Bergen-Belsen], Brigadier H. L. Glyn-Hughes, the Deputy Director of Medical Services of the British Army of the Rhine, appointed my mother, a not yet 33-year-old Jewish dentist from Sosnowiec, Poland, to organize and head a group of doctors and nurses among the survivors to help care for the camp’s thousands of critically ill inmates.

For weeks on end following the liberation of Bergen-Belsen, my mother and her team of 28 doctors and 620 other female and male volunteers, only a few of whom were trained nurses, worked round the clock with the British military medical personnel to try to save as many of the survivors as possible. Despite their desperate efforts — it was not until May 11, 1945, that the daily death rate fell below 100 — the Holocaust claimed 13,944 additional victims at Bergen-Belsen during the two months after the liberation.

The end of the war found the survivors alone, mostly abandoned, just as the Jews in the Warsaw Ghetto had been alone, mostly abandoned. “For the greater part of the liberated Jews of Bergen-Belsen,” my mother recalled many years later, “there was no ecstasy, no joy at our liberation. We had lost our families, our homes. We had no place to go, nobody to hug, nobody who was waiting for us, anywhere. We had been liberated from death and from the fear of death, but we were not free from the fear of life.”

...The right-extremist, anti-immigration Alternative for Germany–or AfD–party is now the largest opposition party in the German federal parliament. A number of its leaders have been accused of Holocaust denial.

Three months ago, Wolfgand Gedeon, an AfD lawmaker in the German state parliament of Baden-Württemberg, objected to the installation of plaques bearing the names of Jewish victims of National Socialism – so-called Stolpersteine, or stumbling stones – in the pavement outside their last residences before deportation. “With their actions, the stumbling stone initiators impose a culture of remembrance on their fellow human beings, dictating to them how they should remember who and when,” Gedeon declared. “Who gives these obtrusive moralists the right to do so?”

The very idea that adherents of any present-day variation of the Hitlerite ideology might be able to influence how the Shoah is remembered in Germany is abhorrent on every possible level.

In Poland, meanwhile, the enactment of a new law that seeks to criminalize holding the Polish nation responsible for the atrocities committed on Polish soil during World War II is widely seen as an attempt to whitewash those Poles who victimized Jews during the years of the Holocaust.

Two sentences of Gruppenführer Stroop’s report on the liquidation of the Warsaw Ghetto jump out in this connection: “In the event of the capture of a Jew in the Aryan part of the city of Warsaw,” he wrote, “the Polish police was authorized to give to every Polish policeman one-third of the cash in the possession of the Jew in question. This measure has already produced results.”

There is no question that there were Poles who helped and saved Jews at the risk of their own lives, and they fully deserved to be recognized and honored for their heroism. At the same time, there is also no question that there were Poles who betrayed Jews to the Germans during the Holocaust years, who raped Jewish women, and who murdered Jews.

We know full well that there were Germans who resisted the Nazis, but no one of any integrity would dare suggest that they were representative of the German people as a whole. Similarly, the Poles who rescued Jews were the exception, not the norm.

...Let us also remind ourselves that one paramount reason why we are here today is that we must not, we cannot allow our dead to fade from our consciousness.

On the night of August 3-4, 1943, a little boy named Benjamin arrived at Auschwitz-Birkenau with his parents and grandparents. In her posthumously published memoirs, my mother recalled her final moments with her son, my brother: “We were guarded by SS men and women. One SS man was standing in front of the people and he started the selection. With a single movement of his finger, he was sending some people to the right and some to the left. . . . Men were separated from women. People with children were sent to one side, and young people were separated from older looking ones. No one was allowed to go from one group to the other. Our five-and-a-half-year-old son went with his father. Something that will haunt me to the end of my days occurred during those first moments. As we were separated, our son turned to me and asked, ‘Mommy, are we going to live or die?’ I didn’t answer this question.”

Benjamin is one of between 1,000,000 and 1,500,000 Jewish children who were murdered in the Shoah. Since my mother’s death in 1997, he has existed inside of me. I see his face in my mind, try to imagine his voice, his fear as the gas chamber doors slammed shut, his final tears. If I were to forget him, he would disappear.

But it is not enough for me to remember my brother. I must transmit his memory, his image, into the future, so that that one day my grandchildren will tell their children and grandchildren about Benjamin.

Read Menachem Z. Rosensaft’s full remarks at Tablet.

[teenwolfhot]

Missing stiles stilinksi imagine part 5

" look I told you I don't remember okay...."

Playing with your sleeves while the two british detective interrogating while Scott and stiles watches from behind the glass " I don't think we're going to get anything from her" putting a popcorn in his mouth " I say she's hiding something about hemmings and parnell.... I know it... I just do" stiles slams the door Scott was about to when

" look miss (l/n) we're running out of options here...helps us out okay... All we need is... Hemming and parnell evolved with your kidnapping that's all... The DNA we took from your cloths... Your cloths when you're a little girl... Has their DNA on it.... So "

Stiles placing the pen and paper down and leaving the room dragging kol and Dean with them. As they leave the room Scott immediately saw you flinched and slowly grabbed the pen and paper while the officer came back "what's she's doing?"

Kol lean back while Dean watches you write " I think boys we're having a full statement" as all of them clapped their hands one of the Sargent walked in " enough cheering... Clapping... She's not the only one missing within the last seven or whatever years she's been held" placing the files down

" we've got worked to do... Furthermore parnell saying that he doesn't know her when... We found pictures of.... Well inappropriate pictures.... More provocative... Pictures" sliding the file next to the parnell file

" what's she doing?" the Sargent looked at you writing " we think she's having recurring vision of the day she was kidnapped... We think she's writing her side..... That leaves Martin"

Stiles sighed " lydia says she's can't remember... Her mother is in shock while... Lydia don't want to talk...."

The Sargent sighed " stilinksi I'm sorry... But.... The DA office says we have to take you off the case it's clouding your judgement" stiles was about to speak

"I HAVE TO... I HAVE TO TALK TO HIM... I HAVE TO TALK TO HIM!!" McCall...stilinksi.. Dean.... Kol rushed out with guns held a woman out of breath hair all over the place.... Her face full of pain... Distress while two County officers manhandling " let her go... Let her go " Scott removing the cops hands away from the woman

" now who are you?"

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

In another interrogation room

" you're parnell wife... Wife... As in not dead wife Carole parnell" the woman chocked on her water " yes... I'm his first wife..." placing the water down" I heard on the news about this case and I has to come down " stiles looked up" why Mrs parnell? " kol leans in" I'm not Mrs parnell anymore is lance... Carole lance "showing her married ring to kol" so about parnell what can you tell us? "

" where do I begin" she looks up wipping her tears which are falling continuously " take your time" as Scott pulls out a recorder

" whenever your ready"

Mrs lance coughes a bit then begins

" it was the day miss (l/n) got abducted... It was a summer afternoon and I saw the two girls playing while my husband was watching them from afar I could see the girls... It was strange to see Mrs Martin off in a hurry in the car... I knew she would ask... My husband at the time to look after them because... He always look after lydia... Mrs Martin Young daughter... "

" we were at the time trying to have our own children... We found it very difficult to have a child.... Parnell always wanted... Stated rather he wants children... Sometimes he would always babysit he neighbours children... Wasn't fishy at all"

Mrs lance coughes again and Scott stops the recorder " don't worry" as she drinks water and continues

" the coming day after miss (l/n) was reported by her parents that she was missing parnell was being alert always... Keeping tabs on the investigation... Even associating with the search to look for the girl... I was thinking my husband truly cares... I didn't know he was a child molester "

Mrs lance cried but she hold it in

" another time when my husband was watching Mrs Martin daughter lydia... The girl came to me all scared... She was shaking the poor girl she looked at me with those eyes and said" I don't want to play horsey with parnell anymore it hurts " she told me and ran away I couldn't chase her. Parnell came to me and asked me where did she go and I said she ran off I didn't think at the time why would a little girl say that...

Later that very evening I asked parnell why lydia Martin said to me about playing with him and horsey. I told him you're sometimes a little rough he laughed and said " we're playing that's all". I dismiss everything including the other mothers accusing my husband... Showing me brusies the day after my husband was babysitting their children "

Mrs lance looked up " I was a fool... For protecting him... I can't believe he did this to all those children... All those innocent children" she couldn't hold the tears as kol stop the recorder

Stiles got up and removed himself from the room and went to find something

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

Cameras flashing people not moving "WILL YOU ALL MOVE FOR ONCE THIS GIRL HAD ENOUGH OF PEOPLE CONSTANTLY WATCHING HER!!" the chief of police was in on getting you home

" How's it going inside?"

" it's crowded from our end"

You're standing outside the police car looking round the street block it haven't changed one bit since you've been kidnapped " miss (l/n) it's time" the woman wrapped her coat round you and two officer behind her nodded their caps and proceeds on getting you inside the house you thought was sold to another family

"BACK OFF... BACK OFF... BACK OFF I SAID...!!!" paparazzi being in frenzy mood didn't want to back off that's when one of the officer shot in the air and the people round you clear way " that's more like it"

As the woman holding you and two officer behind you dragging you towards what seemed to be your house

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

Other end

" what's going on?"

your father asking the officer " we're trying to get her to come into the house safely... Securely as possible... The press having a field of pictures"

Your father huffed " I show them" as he took his rifle your mother put her hands on your father's shoulders " don't... Don't we don't want anymore trouble" your father puts the rifle down

Soon the door opens " peace... Peace... PEACE FOR GOODNESS SAKE" as the cheif police puts his cap down and two officer behind him while a woman holding a young looking woman shivering " well... (y/n) your home" as the woman looked at you

Slowly looking up you see two people in about their 40's - 50's age hurdling together and tears in their eyes " my baby... My beautiful baby girl" the woman hand her arms out and you flinched and ran away upstairs