To the moon and back, there was this old saying in her
world, and it seems he’s doing just that – to go with her, no matter what. Her
son threatens to kill her every time their paths cross in some way, and it’s…
too much. She can’t stay here – in this realm of wishes where the fake Henry is
the only family she has left, and he hates her.
purchase a bean – in some obscure way, he takes care of it – and they land in
her castle, and she’s still holding his hand as they fall to the ground in the
He’s… different. Different from the old Robin, that is for sure. Less soft,
rougher, he lacks that shades of fatherhood and that quiet wisdom he had. This
Robin is more impulsive, darker, and… they fit.
Request!: Laf flirts with you tirelessly, every day he comes into your book shop like clockwork, asking about books, but mostly you. Finally after weeks of him pestering you, you finally accept his offer on a date, and you have a lot of fun! You begin courting before the revolution, before he goes off to war you say “promise me you’ll come back alive?” And he says “only if you’ll be my wife when I come back?”
Paring: Lafayette X Reader
Triggers: Cursing. MAybe we cursed idk. THE FLUFF IS REAL, a real dick bag guy named Rousseau Rouballsack as I like to call him
A/n- I wish we could have done this is french. THIS IS THE NEW CAMPING AND WE LOVE ITS SO CUTE AND FLUFF. We died about 15 times while writing this. this is the third time ive remade this post. sigh. ENJOY
The owner stopped in front of the desk again, “Merci, Y/n, and if you’re harassed, just send for Rousseau-”
“And what if I’m harassed by Rousseau?” You asked.
The owner smirked, “You can handle Rousseau. Now, I am off, bonne chance, Y/n.” ((good luck))
While looking after the owner, as they left, you saw a tall man standing in the window. He was looking at you. You smiled and busied yourself, with taking a stack of books to the other side of the store. The door chimed as the owner left.
You heard the bell of the door chime again, and then hands were under yours taking the books away from your grasp.
“Let me help you.”
You looked up to see that it was the tall man you saw in the window who took the books.
“Thank you, sir.” You began to study his face. If facial hair was finely cut, and his seemingly really curled hair in a tight bun. He couldn’t be that much older than your age of 22.
“Where?” He said motioning to the books. You prayed that he didn’t see you staring.
Your cheeks heated up, “Oh, sorry, over by the the book shelf by the window.”
Once he set down the stack of books, he turned to you. He took a breath then announced, “I want to buy a book.”
I love the fact that Scrooge still has the item that got him started on earning his fortune. (I guess his family kept it safe for him while he was traveling the world and such?) And I love how Scrooge keeps his life artifacts in general, and is nostalgic and sentimental about them. I’m the same way and Scrooge was part of my inspiration for finding my old childhood/adolescence things and keeping them stored away so I know where they are and I can go look at them when I want.
(From Don Rosa’s The Incredible Shrinking Tightwad)
The sunset has moved from the lake - but it still bathes an old dead tree with light - which reflects back from the surface of the water, the ripples created by a number of ducks adds to the coloured effects.
#804: Gosalyn is a lesbian and her dad throws her an extravagant Coming Out Party she never asked for to show his support. But as cheesy as it is, she knows it’s his way of telling her he loves her no matter what, and it ends up being a treasured memory for her.
pair: delsin rowe/eugene sims. warnings: delsin wants to fly, eugene is adorable; not much else than a little bit of fluff.
When Delsin comes to, his vision is a little hazy and his muscles ache, but it’s not an unfamiliar feeling by now. The past couple of days were hell on his body but there’s no time to waste, not when his tribe still needs him. He allows himself a moment of peace before rolling onto his side, the concrete floor cold under his hands.
Authors note: Sorry that took forever! I’ve been really busy with finals and things but I’ll write as much as I can during Christmas break and such. Send me requests! P.S. Shout out to summertimestydia for giving me motivation to write part two of this fic. (/^▽^)/
If you said that you didn’t immediately sucker punch the brown haired shewolf standing next to you in the jaw, you would be lying. The fact that you even caught her off guard, were fast enough and had enough adrenaline pulsing through your veins to run and hide was a stunning stroke of good luck that you didn’t want to test.
So there you were, hiding in a freezing cold morgue and waiting for her to kill you. You patted yourself on the back for that one. Dying in a morgue, that would be fantastically ironic. All she would have to do is lift you up into one of those metal cylinders to effectively write off the evidence and say you died of your wound. Nobody would know the truth, and that was the problem. If you were going to die, it would be awesome, or for a good cause, or for those two brown haired idiots, not because some werewolf lady dictated it that way.
You opened a bag of evidence for some case, in there being a few paper clips, a bottle of Axe body spray, and a flip phone. Grabbing the phone, praying to all the deities that it worked, you pressed the metallic button. The screen flashed on, you praised all of the gods ever and promised that you would try out a religion someday. You called Scott first, no answer.
“Asshat,” you murmured. “Probably trying to get his grades up.” You growled and then called Derek, not actually knowing how you had somehow memorized his number but pleading that he answered anyway. He didn’t pick up either. At this point you could hear the werewolf lady pounding on the steel door, knowing the metal frame wouldn’t hold up for very long you ran to a door where two hallways started.
You knew the hospital like the back of your hand, that was a definite advantage. Scott, Stiles and you had been best friends since as long as you all could remember and often times, you all would figure out a way to harmlessly prank the interns at the hospital before you’d all pack up for late nights with scary movies and popcorn. It was one of the many traditions you guys had, and hopefully not the last.
You knew there was a door on both your left and to your right. Left would lead you to the pristine white, potently clorox smelling emergency room, where you could probably make another call. Right would lead you outside, where you could maybe find somebody willing to help you. The chances of the wolf nurse coming to attack you in a crowded place were slim so you ran close to the ER, looking for someone to help, anyone.
You could see her claws out, eyes red, face fierce, coming your way. You knew if she had anyone to hate, it was you and your pack. You knew you were severely disliked because of your random good luck, and not being able to be killed. You counted the times they had tried to murder you to be around fifty five. And out of everyone in the pack, you were the most undamaged of the bunch, which isn’t to say you didn’t have problems of your own, because you most certainly did.
You pushed those thoughts out of your mind though, because you knew that the pain killers weren’t going to last much longer as you had hastily torn out your iv in fear and for mobility. You ran, and you ran fast, right into a medical closet filled with medicines and gause. You locked the door from the inside and rushed to find the sedatives, needles and a syringe. You filled it and waited by the pounding door, lying down on the floor to appear missing.
The door burst open with a deafening crack and she rushed in, not seeing you on the floor at first glance, the broken down door serving as a nice cover. She walked past as you got ready to pounce, knowing that if you wanted her to be knocked out faster you were going to need a vein. And even with that, being a werewolf it would take a while longer for the sedative to set in a werewolf, much less an Alpha.
You shook your head defeated, why were you fighting? Nobody was here to help you, an alpha female was chasing you and what were you? Human.You couldn’t take her in a fight anyway. Eh, Whatever, you could sure as hell try. She walked close to you, you jumped up and plunged the needle right into her neck. This momentarily shocked her but she recovered fast, swiping at you angrily. You ducked out and ran.
“Stiles.” You laughed quietly as you ran as fast as you could. “I’m gonna kill that blockhead once I find him.”
You quickened your pace, glad Scott had made you go on runs with him to keep you fit, just in case something like this happened. Though you would never admit it to him. Ever. The nurse was catching up quickly and you knew the only way you were going to be able to escape was to call, as much as you hated to put him in danger, Stiles. You dialed his number and ducked into the emergency ward, avoiding nurses and the obviously contagious patients, hoping that the wolf nurse got stopped and wouldn’t brutally murder you in a group of 20+ people.
Stiles picked up, his voice sounding tired as if he wasn’t getting sleep again. “Hello? Stiles speaking.” His voice had undertones of sadness that only you or Scott could recognize and that made you physically hurt more than you already did.
“Stiles?” You answered, chiding yourself for the crack in your voice as soon as you spoke. “Have you not been sleeping again, are you okay?”
He laughed. “Y/N! You’re alive!”
“Of course I’m alive! Do you think I would’ve stopped annoying you this easily?” You laughed for a moment, paused, and quietly inquired with accidental concern in your voice. "Don’t avoid the question, is it worse?“
His voice cracked through the phone, making your heart swell with more pain. "I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m sor-”
You cut him off, “You don’t have to apologize to me, Stiles. I-” You faltered. Unable to say three words you had felt since as long as you could remember. You coughed, trying to recover. “We’ll talk about this later, okay? I need you to pick me up from the hospital right now, it’s life or death. Some alpha chick is chasing me and honestly it’d be nice to see your face again. I- I’ll see you later.” You closed the flip phone and sprinted away, hoping he could get here fast enough.
Stiles felt a small smile tug at his lips, in spite of everything. You were okay. You had a metric ton of homework to do, but you were alive. He jumped out of his desk chair and scrambled to his car, pulling the keys out of his pocket and into the ignition. He raced to the hospital, hoping that you could live long enough to get out. He knew you would, you had to. He couldn’t imagine life without your laughter and awesome and totally random luck. Well he could, but even thinking about it made his head spin and his hands shake. He breathed heavily, trying to stay focused. This was for Y/N, he had to get through for you.
Stiles pulled up to the hospital, tires screeching loudly enough that they left a black streak on the road. He honked twice, that being the understood sound that the one of you three, Scott, Stiles or yourself being there. He pulled out his phone, texted Scott to bring someone for backup to help contain another alpha and he ran fast, opening each door he could find, searching for you. Not knowing what he would do once he did, but running even faster all the same.
Being trapped was never your favorite game to play. One, because most of your captors loved to make fun of you, or tease you for ‘being so easy to catch’. And two, because you had to multitask keeping the captor entertained, figuring out a way to free yourself, all without getting killed. It was a game you were good at, though. You began to wiggle out of the zip tie as you took hit after hit from the brown haired woman, leaving purplish bruises running down your entire body and opening the wounds down your midsection that were really starting to make your vision cloud. She was trying to hurt you badly, beat you up so that you couldn’t get away before she could kill you. And to be fair, you guys had injured and even killed some of her own, so it was only reasonable, in a morbid sort of way.
The blood was escaping your old wound too fast. If you didn’t get out soon, you would die in a matter of minutes, so with great struggle and a little pity from Madeline? Maddie? She called herself something like that. You pulled yourself into a chair and sat yourself up, which was hell for your gut, but you did it anyway. Suddenly the woman spoke, seemingly interested in you.
“You’ve just been beaten half to death by an alpha wolf,” She said venomously, “And yet, here you are sitting upright in a chair, bleeding out.” She paused for a moment, letting the oddness of the situation sink in. "How? I’ve met werewolves weaker than you. Hell, I’ve met alphas weaker than you. What’s your secret?“ She seemed desperate for the knowledge, the thought of her wanting something from you made you grin. You spit out the blood in your mouth, glad the red metallic substance was gone and plastered a shit eating grin on your face as you spoke.
"It’s nothing special. No kind of drug, or some kind of crazy magical voodoo. You wanna know so that you can empower new recruits, right? Well, sorry, sugar. I’m just special like that. No powers, but I will fight till my bitter end. Which seems like it could be-”
A crashing bang filled the room, the loss of blood making your ears ring and head spin, you could make out three figures. Two of them began to fight the now tired alpha and one of them, Stiles, picked you up like the most precious thing he’d ever held in his arms. His clothes smelled like butterscotch, Old Spice and some other cologne that you couldn’t quite pinpoint, it smelled like him, and you relaxed more than you had in a very long time. He ran with you in his arms, getting a nurse.
After this bloody moment, you were in a coma for six days. You couldn’t quite regain consciousness during those six days, but you could hear what was still going on. Scott and Stiles both stayed at your bedside 24/7 for all 6 of those days and often you could overhear their conversations. But on the seventh day, you heard something that pushed you over the edge to consciousness.
“Stiles,” Scott said, tired. “You know that she wouldn’t have jumped in front of an Alpha to save you, if she didn’t think it would be worth it.” Scott said, trying to comfort him. Scott was the only person who knew first hand that you and Stiles liked each other, everyone else knew, but Scott had gotten confessions from both of you, after bothering you both for literal months. “You would’ve done the same for her, right?” He continued.
You could practically hear Stiles’s worry, you could see his tired eyes from lack of sleep and his disheveled hair, and him wringing his hands, leaving red marks on his skin. “Yeah.” He stated, quietly. “I would do anything for her, Scott. I don’t know what-” He ran his hands through his hair, and even more quietly he continued. “I don’t know what I’d do without her, Scott. I love her too much to even function when she’s gone. If she-” He paused, swallowing back emotion. “If she died, I don’t know what I would do, Scott. I don’t know.”
There was silence for a long time. Your heartbeat monitor quickened, causing the beeps to worry the boys and led the nurses to adjust you. Stiles… Loved you? He loved you? As much as you loved him? You doubted it, there was only one person in the world you could die for and that was Stiles Stilinski. And maybe Scott. You could feel yourself zooming towards consciousness, the tiredness pulsing stronger each time you fought harder, the doctors knew it too. They rushed into the room, and you knew that you would either die, or survive. You thought of Stiles with his Butterscotch and old spice smelling clothes, you thought about how much you needed him, and it seems, he needed you. You needed to get through for the both of you. You could feel his warm hand gripping yours, completely pulling you back.
You lurched forward, taking deep breaths, doctors were surrounding you, murmuring things like 'She survived!’ 'Remarkable!’ 'She’s amazing, that’s for sure’. You looked at them annoyed, they took the clue after a few moments and cleared out, giving you privacy with Scott and Stiles.
“Hey guys.” You coughed, your voice more gravely than expected. “Told you I would pull through.” You grinned weakly, laid down and closed your eyes. You continued again, noticing more mischief in your voice. “Have you ever heard that people in comas can hear what’s going on around them?” You opened your eyes again to see Stiles’s head spring up hearing this, looking at you with guilt and worry in his brown eyes, brown eyes that showed love, and deep sadness and hope and interest and all different mixes of emotions that made his dark brown sugar coloured orbs seem that much sweeter.
Needless to say, your heart melted at this, so you grabbed his shirt, pulled him down delicately and kissed him softly. Lips intertwining carefully and lovingly, you could feel his breath hitch and your heartbeat quicken, and in that moment it was perfect. And when you broke apart, the first words spoken were,
“I love you, Stiles Stilinski. And don’t you ever forget it.”
Scott laughed, “It was about time, you two. It was too obvious,”
“Enough,” Thor laughed, putting out a quieting hand. “If it
means that much to you, then by all means. Lead the way.” He gestured toward
Tony and Steve cheered. The others gathered laughed and
stood. “This ought to be good,” Natasha said, taking a long drink of her beer
before standing up along with Wanda, Vision, Bruce, Rhodey, Sam, and Clint.
Tony leapt up and jogged toward the hallway. He was almost to the elevator just
as Thor was picking up his hammer. “Catch up, Point Break, you’re killing me!”
“So – what do you think will happen?” Steve asked Thor as
they walked casually toward where Tony held open the elevator door.
Doing another Feysand fic because it was highly requested. (Also switched some words up, but it’s still the same concept. So here we go.)
I sat alone at a table for two in the middle of a bustling restaurant. The ambiance was a blur as a waitress brought me a glass of water and two menus at my insistence. I was oddly nervous as I waited for my date to show up. My heart pounded, and I found myself wiping my hands on the silk of my skirt more than once.
Skirt. I wore a skirt for this—a blind date. God, I hope Elain is right about this guy. I don’t wear skirts just because.
I took a shaky sip from the glass of water and looked at the empty seat across from me. I wanted to text him, to ask if he was almost here, but I didn’t want to seem overbearing. Still, I pull out my phone and see if I have any texts. But there’s nothing.
I let out a long breath and gripped the folds of my skirt as I went to wipe my palms again. He’d show. I talked to him today. Besides it’s still early, and I technically just got here. It’ll be fine.
At least that’s what I thought until more time went by, and the water in my glass diminished bit by bit. People were starting to look at me weird. I felt even worse as the waitress came up to me seemingly for the millionth time. She asked if I was ready to order yet with the same sympathetic expression she had before.
“No. Thank you. I’m still waiting for my date,” I say nicely as I can. She just nods and sneaks away once again. I knew it wasn’t the waitress’s fault my date wasn’t here, but I felt horrible every time she came by—or when I glimpsed a couple giving me an ‘I’m sorry’ look. Of course that would make me sort of snappy.
I grabbed my phone again and opened my sister’s number. I ducked down more than necessary to shield the screen and my face from the “apologetic” onlookers.
To Elain: Well, your “perfect date” seems to be standing me
I don’t get to finish typing the text before I’m jerked by the surprise of a man sitting in the chair across from me. It’s not the guy I’m supposed to be on a date with.
I’m about to ask what in the world he thinks he’s doing when he says, “Sorry I’m late, darling. Traffic is just awful tonight.”
I was still beyond confused, until I saw the apologetic glances disappear. Then I bring my attention to my sudden savior. He gives me a near fiendish half smile.
“My name is Rhysand,” He said in a hushed voice, “Just go with it.” In all honestly, I was too shell shocked to argue, so I did go with it. Besides, this was better than leaving in the midst of embarrassment and shame.
“So what’s your name, love?” Rhysand asked as he draped an arm over the back of his chair. My throat was suddenly really dry, and I couldn’t find my voice. I wasn’t sure if that was because I was still shocked by the rescue, or because he was unarguably the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.
He raised an eyebrow expectantly. That’s when I snapped from my reverie and cleared my throat. I barely managed to say, “F-Feyre.”
Then he flashed a grin and sat forward. “Well, Feyre,” he said in a voice like liquid midnight, “I’m sorry I kept you waiting.”
The rest of dinner went surprisingly pleasant. Rhysand—who insisted I call him Rhys—is actually quite a conversationist. I found myself unexpectedly comfortable around him. We talked about our respective jobs, and I told him about my painting hobby. I knew for a fact that this date was going better than the other one would have. Rhys even paid for dinner after my request that I should, since he’s the one who saved me from the ultimate walk of shame. Yet, he had none of my insisting.
Now we were walking out of the restaurant to the chill night air outside. Rhys’ hand hovered over my lower back as he escorted me out. It was hard not to blush with being this close to him.
Once we were out on the sidewalk, I turned to face him just as he faced me. “Thank you for that,” I said sincerely, “I definitely owe you.”
Rhysand flashed another grin for a brief moment. “Well, Feyre darling, I’m sorry that your previous date was a fool and stood you up,” He said in equal sincerity. I was glad I had the night air to cool my cheeks.
“Now for that favor you owe me,” He continued and stepped closer to me, “How about an actual, planned date?” My heart picked up in pace as I looked up into his deep blue eyes.
I swallowed thickly before I gave a small nod. “I’d love to,” I replied with more confidence than I expected.
Rhysand gives me a genuine smile before he takes my left hand and plants a soft kiss on it. “Terrific,” He said in that midnight voice.
He doesn’t release my hand immediately—which I’m not complaining about—but when he does, we give our goodbyes and exchange numbers, then go our separate ways.
My phone goes off and I barely register the texts I’m getting from Elain; because all I can think about is my next date with Rhysand.
In one of the corner where they need to guess which option will be voted most by the viewers, one of the question was “Which facial expression of the opposite sex do you like?“ Option #1 was duck face, and then SuzuKen, Ryou chin and Toriumi had this conversation:
SuzuKen: I wonder which one is it Toriumi: Number one is duck.. Mamo chan right SuzuKen: I can do duck face too. I practiced at home
few minutes later… SuzuKen: I think it’s number 3 (being embarrassed when praised) Ryou chin: After all, a guy’s duck face is gross right Toriumi: Apologize to Miyano san! SuzuKen: LOL Ryou chin: Does Miyano san do that? Toriumi: He does that a lot
This is a submitted series by a writer who wished to stay anonymous,
so I will be transferring their submissions to text posts yay! I just
wanted to make it
known that this work is not mine, and all credits go to the original
author that decided to submit their series to my blog. Enjoy! :))