Bender learning enough about human anatamy to help Fry with his binder and dysphoria.
Bender constantly touching Fry to assure him that his body is great just the way it is.
Bender beating the shit out of anyone who misgenders Fry, inntentional or not (Fry stops him if they don’t deserve it).
Bender constantly pulling PDA just to make Fry blush.
Bender and Leela gushing about their significant others and making tons of “wow I’m gay” jokes.
Bender holding Fry as he has breakdowns about missing the past and dysphoria and other issues.
Bender doing his best to give up crime and failing misserably, but still trying.
Bender giving Fry little smooches all over his body til he’s giggling and happy and not worrying about his body anymore.
Bender trying to learn about the 20s century to help Fry feel comfortable.
Bender proposing awkwardly but lovingly and Fry crying a lot.
Bender being an adorable blushing bride because he looks good in dresses and there’s no way Fry is wearing one but they cant both be in tuxes Fry, God do you have any class.
Bender and Fry genuinely loving each other.
I never liked taking
my young son, Ben, along on business trips, as he was at that tireless,
inquisitive age whereby everything is either boring or fascinating. But Ben’s
father - a handyman - was working all weekend and the regional office had
a creche, so I decided to turn the trip into a weekend break. The hotel in
Atlanta, Georgia was pretty, but past it’s best - the sort of place with lots of
empty rooms. The polite young guy on reception took a shine to us, and gave us
the penthouse suite at the regular room-rate, since no-one was using it.
The suite was huge: two bedrooms and a lounge; plenty of
space for Ben to play whilst I worked on my presentation which nobody would
“Misser Duck’s in here, mommy!” He ran out of the bathroom,
I barely looked up from my ancient laptop. “You mean ‘Mr.
Duck’, sweetie?” He couldn’t pronounce his ‘T’s.
“Misser Duck, Misser Duck!” he was bouncing with glee. “He’s
sayin’ fings! Come see, mommy!”
I said I’d go look later, pleased he’d made a friend to
amuse himself, even if it was imaginary. “But ducks don’t ‘say’ things, honey.
They quack! So why don’t you quack back?”
I became so engrossed in my stupid project that I didn’t
notice it was growing dark outside. Ben’s giggles from the lounge spurred me to
shut my laptop and call him in.
“I’ll order us some food, buddy. Sorry mommy’s not been much
“S’ OK, mommy. Misser duck’s been quack-quack-quacking! He
This made me smile, although I wondered what had brought a
duck to mind, as we were about as far from any pond as possible. That night,
Ben insisted he sleep alone in the adjoining bedroom; I agreed as he’d been so
well-behaved all evening. I heard him whispering softly until late, and figured
he was excited about being away from home and making a new, make-believe
friend. I imagined hearing faint, raspy “quacks” echoing as I drifted off to
sleep, and gentle duck footsteps somewhere above me.
The next morning I found Ben curled up under his bed in a
“Whatever’s the matter, sweetheart? Doesn’t Mister Duck want
to play, today?”
“Misser duck lef’ me all alone. He liked seein’ you sleep
I felt a draft on the back of my neck, and looked up to see
the ancient ventilation shaft above the head of Ben’s bed, missing its grill
cover. I rushed back into my room to find an identical set-up. As I peered into
the black passageway, just big enough to fit a person, it dawned on me that
Ben’s dad would have taught him the word “duct”, as he was forever fixing them
in our apartment block. I’d noticed similar shafts in the suite’s bathroom and
“You lookin’ for
Misser Duck? S’ OK, Mommy. He quacked me where we lived, so I quacked him our
You sat at your apartment writing on your song after two months not writing a single word you finally had some inspiration, suddenly you felt two hands sneaking around you, that almost let you jump off your chair, when you turned around, your eyes shoot wide open when you saw your boyfriend
“Kiseok!” You let out in excitement and you stood up, you let your arms fall around his neck and you kissed him “when did you came back?” You asked
Summary: Y/n and Derek have a night together resulting in life changing consequences.
A/N: This is based on a request I got from @sallyp-53 - Could you write about a vampire female reader being a part of the pack in teen wolf, where instead of Derek ending the party thrown at his loft he ends up hanging out with her at the party, I know they can’t get drunk but for stories sake it happens and they end up sleeping together. They are still good friends after but the reader later finds out she’s with child and keeps trying to figure out the right time and way to tell Derek Sorry if this is way to long or not to your liking ❤️ ur writing! Ok, so once u read this, you will realise the request has been changed a bit. I was initially going to do a fluffy oneshot, but it ended up becoming an angsty 2 parter. Sorry. Hope u like it!
The Short Version of The Epic Life of Gouverneur Morris
Born on January 30 1752 to a wealthy New York familly, Gouverneur Morris started a life so epic that very few of us can ever hope to recreate it. As an adult Morris was described as being superficial, witty, and very popular with the ladies. Because who can resist a face like his? His bonnie friend Alexander Hamilton called him “a man of great genius, liable however to be influenced by his fancy, which sometimes outruns his discretion.” Such a ladiesman.
Morris got his education at King’s College and completed the bar in 1771. From there he worked as a lawyer until 1775 when he got elected to New York’s Provincial Congress. Morris later served on a committee that selected delegates to the Second Continental Congress in favor of the Declaration of Independece. Morris also signed the Articles of Confederation in 1778.
In 1780, Gouverneur Morris lost his leg in an accident. Some say he got into a carriage accident and others that he jumped out of a window when being chased by an angry husband to a lady he tried to flirt with. Yet another version is a combination of the two. Whatever the truth, the reslut was the same. A bad fracture that led to an amputation of the right leg. Walking around with a cane on a peg leg did however not stop Morris (in his romantic pursuits nor his political life) and the same year he became the Confederation’s assistant superintendent of finance.
I can’t really find any reccords of exactly when Morris met his equal in Alexander Hamilton. They were in correspondence by 1777 and I assume that they came into contact either through work ( seeing as Hamilton frequently wrote to Congress and congressional committees) or through Mutual aquaintances in New York. If anyone knows exactly when and how please tell me.
At the 1787 Constitutional Convention, Morris spoke more than most. Arguing for granting Congress veto power over state laws, a direct election of the president (thank you Gouv), and a proportional representation in Congress based on taxation. Morris was also the guy who authored the famous line “We the people of the United States” on the Constitution!
Another fun story about Morris takes place at the time of the Convention. Morris was having dinner with Alexander Hamilton one day and let it slip that he could be “as familliar with Washington as any of his other friends” to which Hamilton replied that if that was the case, Morris should go up to Washington the next time he saw him, give him a slap on the back and greet him like a friend. Morris did take up on the dare and won, but it was Hamilton who got to prove his point. After having recieved a slap on the shoulder and a “my dear General how glad I am you look so well” from Morris, Washington gave him a glare that made Morris want to sink into the floor, and kindly asked him never to repeat the action. At least poor Morris got a free dinner party out of the ordeal.
In 1792 Morris was chosen for the possition of the American abassador to France. He managed not only to do the job well, but also have a whole lot of affairs with a whole lot of women in the meantime. There is one story from Morris’ s time in France that have a lot of versions of itself and that I doubt rings much truth, but is rather hillarious which is why I will tell it anyway. The story goes like this: Gouverneur Morris is on his way through France in a carriage with one of his lady friends, when an angry mob attacks thinking it’s a rich french guy inside the carriage. Ever so quick to action, Morris ripps off his peg leg, shoves it out of a window, waves it around and shouts “I got this in the Revolutionary War!” The mob is so impressed that they back off and so the carriage is on it’s merry way again. Morris made it back to America in 1794 without any other incidents of the same proportion.
In 1804 Morris held the eulogy at Alexander Hamilton’s funeral. Two days prior he had arrived at the house that held his wounded best friend (at first thinking he had come to late) and had sat with him until he died. The eulogy is very beautiful and speaks not only of their close relationship but also of Morris’s skills as a writer. Feel free to look it up for yourselves because I don’t have room to include it here.
Five years after losing his best friend , Gouverneur Morris, the long-time Bachelor, finally settled down. He got married to Anne Cary Randolph, and in 1813 Morris became a father for the first time, at the age of 61, to a son he named after himself.
Sadly the little boy did not get to have his father around for very long because Gouverneur Morris decided to out do his best friend in stupid deaths, by shoving a whale bone up his dick. After having suffered from gout throughout the fall of 1816, Morris’ s health complaints grew worse as he contracted a urinary tract blockage. From the don’t-try-this-at-home department, Morris then attempted to clear the blockage by using a whale bone as a catheter. It failed misserably, and led to internal injuries and an infection. Morris passed away like a legend on November 6 1816.
From extraordinary political accomplishments to living 57 years as a bachelor. from having slept with probably hundreds of women, and surving a friendship with Alexander Hamilton, to dying of a failed at home surgery with a whale bone. Gouverneur Morris lived one hell of a life. You could never be as awesome as he was if you tried. Long live Gouverneur Morris, may he rest in peace.
A/N: Collab with @ticklygiggles ! For our 1-year friendship anniversary we also decided to write a fic together again, our third one ! Hope you guys like iiit!*w*
Summary: One day at practice Kageyama finds his boyfriend Hinata in a bad mood, unfocused and unlike himself. When things escalate and they end up fighting and quarreling, Daichi has had enough of it and locks them up in the gym to get their shit together. (some angst + tickly fluff incoming~)
Word Count: 2923
“Kageyama!” Kageyama concentrated on the ball Nishinoya sent to him. The ball was coming down, a perfect angle and position for a super quick. Three- two- one… Bam. No one said something as the sound of the bouncing ball echoed through the gym, and Kageyama blinked his eyes and looked up.
“Hinata, why’d you miss that?” he asked Hinata who was still in his previous middle blocker position, and Hinata shrugged. Strange. Hinata would never miss a super quick opportunity like that.
“It’s alright Kageyama, Hinata is only human. Let’s continue practicing,” Daichi told him from the other side of the net, but the simple shrug of Hinata’s shoulders and the fact that he just missed. that. damn. quick. resulted in a pretty worried Kageyama. Oh well, he’d try a next time then.
“Again?” Tsukishima asked when Hinata missed Kageyama’s next super quick hint, and Kageyama clenched his fist and walked over to him.
“Is something wrong today?” he asked directly while the others changed positions. Another shrug of the shoulders, and Kageyama sighed.
“Not as your teammate but as your boyfriend, I’m asking you again: is something wrong today?”, Hinata’s cheeks took a light hint of pink that Kageyama didn’t fail to noticed, he found it endearing, but that was not important right now.
With a roll of the eyes and an exasperated sigh, Hinata looked straight into Kageyama’s eyes.
“It’s nothing, Kageyama! I just missed it! Just try it again, dammit!”, Kageyama was speechless, just for a few seconds.
“Try it again? What do you think I am? I’m not going to keep throwing perfect passes at you if you’ll mess them up like the last two!”
“Then just don’t pass me anything!”
“Hinata, Kageyama!”, Daichi’s angry tone made them both jump.
“Let me remind you that we’re in the middle of a practice game, so can you both stop fighting over this and come back to play?!”
“Yes, Daichi-San”, they both answered, and when Kageyama turned to say just one more thing to Hinata, he clearly saw the clouded expression on his lover’s face.
Hinata’s eyes weren’t sparkling as always and was totally out of him to miss two tosses in a row. Kageyama tried to put in peace the awkward sensation making his heart ache and he sighed, sensing this was going to be the longest practice they’d ever have.
I am known to see both sides of an issue, passionate or not. I do not have a hard time being a shipper. Before I knew about CC shippers too many people I know said they did not ship miarren. She is narcissistic and tries to take away from Darren. Darren shippers. But wanting him to be happy you smile keep your mouth shut. Even though at times he seems misserable. Then you hear Darren sing songs that are connected to Chris and you really start questioning. Then you hear beard…ding, ding,ding. It is not hard to ship happiness. If this CC is not real heaven help Darren, literally. He has to enjoy being unhappy, by his face. One in particular made me very sad. At “opt smile” M holding babe Darren in pic…not happy. Wanted to cry.
I absolutely understand that to actually believe in CC, you have to be strong. You have to see through the BS. And you have to look at everything, But I can tell you, I believe with every fiber of my being. And I know enough. And have observed enough. And read all of Chris’ books. And pay attention to the songs Darren writes. And the ones he talks about. that there is no doubt as to what the truth is.
And I Could not agree more, there is nothing wrong with shipping happiness. I have said so many times, even if I am wrong, the only thing i want is for both men to be happy and healthy. And with Darren specifically, his public relationship is toxic and emotionally abusive. He deserves better than that. It is why I cannot wait for her to exit his life for good. Because even though its not a truly an intimate or romantic relationship. It is a working relationship,. And he is forced to interact with her often and frequently. And I think it is extremely detrimental to his emotional well-being.
And it constantly amazes me that people ship Darren and Von Beard. Because it is rare that we get a convincing photo. Generally we get pics where she does all the work (notice in 98% of them he is either not touching her or or doing the minimum possible including the all too numerous kiss pics). She is always the one sticking her claws in his neck. Or with her hand pressed on his chest. Always her. And he looks so damn miserable in ever one. Or we get the forced “happiness” like in her snaps yesterday. Where the real Darren is gone and the character he has created, straight asshole Darren, appears.
I strongly believe that Darren has survived this nightmare and is still standing strong because of the love and support he receives from his real, private partner.
Scenario that Todoroki has a nightmare of his s/o leaving him & when he wakes up s/o isn't in bed with him, but in another part of the house. Please & Thank you!
I kind of mixed this two requests since they were quite similar. I hope both of you are happy with it! Sorry if it took a while…I had inconveniences XD
The image of you, laugage in hand, coat on, frowned face. The sound of your heels against the wooden planks of your porch, the unforgettable crack of his own heart, the never ending whispering of your voice repeating inside his head over and over again: “I just don’t love you anymore”. The cold, the cold outside the tarnishing window and the cold inside of him. He knew his heart was on the left side of the body, the hot one…but he could swear it was getting covered by frost.
His hands were shaking, his breath stuck in his throat, or maybe there were tears, who knows. All he really knew in that moment, as your image was violently detached from him by the harsh slam of the door, as the terror of never seing you again pierced his chest and injected it with burning acid, as the black hole inside his stomach contracted within itself in the look for more sorrow to absorb…all he really knew, was he didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to accept he had lost your smile, he didnt want to acknowledge your love had slipped through his fingers, and he didn’t want to understand he’d never have you in his arms again. Ever again. Never again.
He walked through the hallway and he couldn’t hear your voice humming some random song at the kitchen.
It was empty.
He entered your room, now his alone, and opened the wardrobe to put on his pajamas. He took a look to your side of the shelves, where your clothes was supposed to be.
It was empty.
He threw himself on the bed, leaving space for a body that wasn’t there, trying to find another pair of feet to tangle with his own under the covers.
It was empty.
He clutched his chest, his heart telling him he couldn’t take this anymore, that he wasn’t ready to face loneliness again, that only dreamless sleep could save him from a night filled with tears and cold sheets.
HE was empty.
He was so empty without you.
When he woke up the next morning, a quiet gasp escaping his lips and his heart drumming rapidly inside his chest as he met the whiteness of the ceiling, he had a rather bitter taste in his mouth. Covered in sweat, trembling and gripping the sheets tightly, he welcomed vigil once again. Or at least that’s what he wanted to believe.
He remembered his dream neatly, oh so clearly, too painfully real. But it had been just a dream…right? It must have been…it should have been…
He turned his body to the other side of the bed, needing more than ever to hold you in his arms, to press you tightly against his body to settle that missing puzzle piece in his heart in place. But as soon as he extended his arms, as he fished for the heat of your body withing the covers…he realized you weren’t there.
Quickly he sat up, turning his head in every possible direction, looking for you all around the room but failing misserably. A drop of cold sweat ran all the way down his face. The light getting in threw the curtains was soft and dim, signals of a still way too early morining, signals that there was no way you had woken up yet. The clock ticked six thirty in the morning, the whistling of the wind against the window seemed to enlarge the silence in the house, and his heart seemed to be skipping every single beat as he swiftly stood up and rushed through the room’s door.
There were no lights on. Just like in his dream. There was no humming of your voice singing in the kitchen. Just like in his dream. He felt tears out of sheer desperation accumulating inside his throat. Just like in his dream. There was no signs of you at the living room or dining room, there was no noise at all coming from the garden or the bathroom. If it hadn’t been for that smell, the scent of coffee filling his nosetrils, he would have lost all hope. With hurried steps he reached the kitchen’s door, desperate as he grabbed the knob and pulled it open to reveal what he was so needy to see. Sweet relief washed him like a spoonful of honey going down his throat before the image of you, nightgown on, your hair a mess, steamy cup in hand and a toast between your teeth. He was paralyzed, his eyes stuck on your picture, absorbing it, making their best to acknowledge it as real. It was you. You were there. You looked happy. It all had been a dreem.
“Shoto?” you turned around confused, not expecting him to be up so early, especially since you both had stayed up quite late last night “what’s wrong? You had trouble sleeping too? You look…”
But he didn’t let you finish your sentence, as he walked towards you and hugged you so tight he almost makes you drop your coffee.
“I’m so glad to see you” he whispered agains your neck, and you couldn’t get the grip of what was going on at all.
“I am…glad to see you too?” you smiled out of pure confusion, giving him a peck on the lips as he pulled away and arching a brow as you stared at him in the eye “Are you sure you are fine? You are acting weird”
“I just had a nightmare, that’s all” he sighted, diving in to kiss you again shortly and grinning contently afterwards “but it’s alright now”
“A nightmare?” As you saw pain returning to his features, you realized it was serious “Want to talk about it?” But as he was about to answer, suddenly an idea came into your mind “Wait, I have a better plan”
“And so when I woke up I saw you weren’t there and I kind of…freaked out” You were resting on the sofa, your back resting on the armrest and your fingers brushing your boyfriend’s hair as you heard him talk. He was lying on top of you, his back pressed against your chest and his head resting on your shoulder. Both of you were wrapped inside a cozzy, warm blanket, and sharing a cup of coffee you took turns to sip “I know it’s stupid, but for a moment I really believed you had…”
“I understand” you murmured “I would…I really don’t know what I would do if that happened to me. I would probably panic”
“Glad I’m not the only one” He smiled and grabbed your hand from under the blanket.
“Do you have any idea of why did you dream that?” You asked, stroking the back of his hand with your thumb “Are you feeling insecure?”
“Not really. I believe in you when you say you love me. It’s just I’m not…used to it yet, I think”
“Used to it? Used to what?”
“To having someone I can rely on by my side all the time. I feel like it’s way too good to be true” He left the empty coffee mug on the table next to you and, this time, he returned to your embrace with his chest against yours, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head under your chin “And, that maybe it won’t last”
You felt the need to clutch your chest. He got so needy when he was worried sometimes. Not that you were complaining though, but you didn’t want him to feel like that. So you kissed his temple and hugged him tightly against you, making him know that you were still there for him, and that you weren’t planning on letting go.
“Don’t worry, Shoto” You whispered against his ear as you closed your eyes “I’m not going anywhere”
“You promise?” He asked, dozing off with a slight smile on his lips.
And you continue to fall asleep together, recovering the lost hours of rest you had both lost, this time no nightmares getting in the way.
Hey, so this is my first time posting fan fiction on Tumblr, so excuse me if I fuck up somehow. I wrote a fluffy imagine last night at 2 am, bc what’s sleep or responsibility? Anyways, enjoy.
’‘ Are you sure this looks good?“ I asked Dan. I was wearing a pair of red skinny jeans and a white knitted sweater with some red Christmasy prints on it.
’'Yes love, you look great. Don’t worry much about it” he said as if it was something that’s easy to do.
You see, today is the day I get to meet Dan’s parents. Dan and I have been dating for a couple of months now, we’ve gotten very serious about our relationship, I moved in with him and Phil, but we’ve never met each other’s parents.
Today was ‘the big day’, where I get to meet his mom, dad and brother. Saying that I’m nervouse is an under statement. I was a wreck. I was positive they wouldn’t like me, since I’m not the British, up scale girl that they would want for their son. I’m a girl from a foreign country, Islamic and very enthusiastic about a lot of stuff. Not the quite combo, if I may say. I sighed.
“If you say so” I said turning back to the mirror and observing how I look. Dan noticed my tension and got up. Wraping his hands around my waist and hugging me from behind, he whisperd “You look beautiful.’’ I tried my hardest not to smile, but I failed misserably.
’'Love, they will adore you, trust me.’’ I smiled and kissed the tip of his nose. He smiled to me, showing me his dimples.
’'Well, we don’t wanna be late, do we?’’
’'Dan, I can’t do this” I said stopping in front of the restaurant where we were going to meet them.
’'Baby, why are you so scared?“
’'I don’t know, I mean… they are your parents Dan, and I’m just a random chick you decided you wanted to date, you like me, but they might not” I finished and looked down at my black Martins.
’'Oh, love’’ he said and kissed me slowly “they will love you” he finished off with a smile and took my hand in his. Then we started walking to the enterance of the restaurant. Well, this is it, no turning back now.
We walked by a couple of tables, before Dan stopped. Since I was walking behind him, I didn’t saw where we stopped. ’'Mum, dad’’ Dan said, letting go of my hand to hug his mother and father. I can feel the sweat forming on my forhead.
’'And you must be y/n. We heard so much about you. Dan, she’s more beautiful than you described her’’ his mom said, looking at me and smiling. I looked up at Dan who was blushing like crazy.
’'Thank you. I didn’t know Dan talked about me’’ I responded, sitting down the table.
’'Oh, yeah’’ said Dan’s brother. “He talkes about you ALL the time” he finished emphasizing the word all. We all sat down and started talking. I got more relaxed, we talked about various things, like my parents, my work. It was great, until…
’'So, y/n, do you plan on having kids?“ Dan’s father asked. I felt sweat starting to run down my spine.
You see, I’m not a child-type person. I mean, don’t get me wrong, kids are great. I just don’t want to have them, in this period of my life. I’m still young, there is so many things I wanna do and accomplish, like getting my Masters, or going to Africa, or climbing Mt. Everest… I wanna do all of those things, and much more before even thinking of having kids.
’'Uh, well I don’t know. In the future, I suppose” I said with a nervous laugh.
’'Why, you don’t like kids?“ his mom asked with narrowed eyebrows. Oh God help me.
’'No, It’s not that I don’t like them, I just want to finish my education first and the-” Dan saw me struggling, so he jumped in the conversation and cut me off.
’'If WE ever want to have kids, WE’ll think about it’’ he said. I felt his warm hand making it’s way on my thigh, and resting there.
I looked up at him and mouthed a ‘thank you’. He smiled in return and intervened in the conversation his parents had about Adrian’s college.
’'Well, this was fun. It was very nice meeting you’’ I said to Dan’s family. It has been two hours of us sitting and talking.
’'Same goes here, dear’’ his mom said before pulling me in a hug. We said our bye’s and started walking to our flat.
“Was that so hard?” Dan asked with wit.
’'It actually was’’ I said playfully hitting him on the arm. He giggled and placed his arm around my back and on my waist, pulling me closer to him.
’'As I said, they love you.“
’'I hope. Did I make a good first impression?’’
’'Yes, love, you did” he said stopping in the middle of the street. I stopped as well. Since it was snowing, I narrowed my eyebrows to stop the snow of getting into my eyes.
’'They loved you.“ Dan said, standing in front of me. He placed his hands on both of my sides and pulled me closer to him. ’'I love you” he finished of smiling. I smiled and got on my tippy toes and kissed his chapped lips.
It was like a scene from a movie. Fairy tale magic.
I giggled in the kiss. “What?” he asked, separating.
’'You need to buy chapstick’’ I smiled.
’'Oh do I?“ he asked with a small laugh.
’'Yeah” I said smiling. I took his hand in my own and started walking through the cold streets of London.