oh cheri

Father’s Daughter.

Titled: ‘Father’s Daughter’ 

Pairing: Gaston x reader

Word Count: 1709 

Summary: Your daughter, Cecile is being pushed around by one of the village boys and Gaston suggests sending Sebastien after him but then quickly realizes that won’t be necessary. 

A/N: Thought this would be such a cute fic idea! So here you go!! 

Warnings: Daddy!Gaston feels, Gaston/Luke Evans feels, FLUFF, slight angst,  etc. 

Tagging:  @girl-next-door-writes  @captainemwinchester @little-red-83@impalaimagining@sherlocks-timetraveling-assbutt@hobbithorse19@feelmyroarrrr@lefouismylife@redimagines@letowolfie@ciaprincess@speedycatbluebird @haniiix33 @mademoiselle-lanielenawrit@pancake74433 @certainasthesvn@with-a-hint-of-pesto-aiolishiroyuki18@ironicallyimnotamouse@ciaprincess@erreneous@gawston@benedictcumberbatchstolemyheart @pureawesomeness001@ronijdubb@norrihiddleskittycap@oh-snap-its-mildred @milleniumxhan

Gaston has never been one to be ashamed to admit anything, and he especially liked to brag about having a family of his own someday. Alongside the woman he held dearest to his heart. So far you and him have just done that. Your first born son name’s was Sebastien, he was twelve years old. Christopher, not too far behind, your second born son, was nine years old. Cecile, she was your first born daughter, and she had just celebrated her seventh birthday. A year after Cecile was born, you welcome your third son, who you named Henri, and he was six. And your youngest, was your second born daughter, Felicite who was only one years old. So you already had your hands full. 

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anonymous asked:

I have a cute request what about the assassin's watching there SO teach there baby how to walk


Altair: Altair would return home from a mission to find his SO teaching their son how to walk. He was wobbly at first, but managed to take a couple of steps before falling on his butt. His SO would laugh but their son, as determined as his father, would quickly get back up and try again. “Marhabaan bik fi albayt,” his SO would say, not taking an eye off the baby. Altair would smirk. His SO may have taken time from being an assassin, but you still couldn’t sneak up on them. Altair would enter the room and scoop up his son, who would squeal in surprise. And by looking into his son’s perfect face, he made a silent promise that he would spend less time on missions and more time with his family.

Ezio: Ezio woke up midday. He came back from a mission late the night before, so his SO let him sleep in the next day. Their home was definitely an extravagant Italian villa, so he woke up in a comfy room. His SO was gone, no doubt doing some errands for the day. He slowly got dressed and made his way downstairs. The house was completely quiet, which was a surprise since there were usually assassins running around. Ezio began to search the house, looking for his SO and his daughter. She was a young toddler, so she needed to be watched at all time. Finally, Ezio found them in the sitting room. It was bright with the sunlight shining through the windows and smelled of the blooming plants. “Come now, piccolo, you can do this,” his SO encouraged. He watched as she placed the child on her feet then moved back. His daughter took a few wobbly steps towards her. His SO smiled and lifted the girl into the air, praising her. “Good job!” she cheered. Ezio stepped in and his SO caught sight of him. He took his daughter from her arms and held her close. “And you, mia piccola rosa, you are amazing,” he said, kissing her all over and making her giggle.

Connor: Connor would return to the manor after spending all day cutting down wood for the fire. Winter was hard this year and Connor needed to keep the home extra warm for his SO and his new baby girl. He wiped the sweat from his brow and decided to call it a day. His SO would have dinner ready any minute and he wanted to see his daughter before she fell asleep. He walked into the manor and went to the kitchen. There was his SO in the middle of cooking dinner, but she was bend down. Connor went behind the counter to see why she was bent down and saw his daughter taking wobbly steps towards her. She took a good couple of steps, then saw Connor standing there. “Rake’ni!” his daughter called. Connor’s SO turned to see him and grinned. “I was cooking and she just stood up and took a step!” they said. Connor smiled and his SO moved out of the way so their daughter could walk to him. She took very wobbly steps and got close to him, but began to lose her balance. He quickly scooped her up and held her tightly. “I’m so proud of you, little one,” Connor praised.

Edward: Edward was happy to finally settle down. His life of pirating was behind him and he loved his home in London. He had significant less work to do, meaning he could spend more time with his SO and their son. He spent most of his time in his study, working on accounts of his time as a pirate, hoping one day someone would see it. But when he was tired, he would go to his son and hope to teach him something. Today, however, was different. When he went to the sitting room to relieve his SO of baby duty, he found his SO knelt down on the ground. He leaned over to see what she was doing and saw his son taking tiny steps on the floor. He felt his eyes begin to water up at the sight. “You’re doing swimmingly, love,” his SO encouraged. His son took a few steps until falling onto his back. But before his SO could get up and help him up, Edward swooped in and grabbed him. He held him in his arms and he began to cry from the fall. “Shh, now, shh. You did amazing. Let’s try again, yes?” he said. He then set the boy down and took a spot next to his SO. 

Arno: Arno was still working hard to bridge the gap between the Templars and Assassins, but he found time to begin a family. Which was how his life was now, curled up in bed next to his SO with their toddler daughter sleeping between them. He woke up and began to caress his SO’s face. They began to stir and noticed their daughter between them. “Bon matin,” his SO greeted. “We have a visitor, again.” Arno smiled as their daughter began to move. “Arno, love, stay in bed. Elise and I will make you breakfast,” his SO assured. She got out of bed and helped her daughter down from the bed so they could put on their shoes. They froze, however, and knelt down. Arno immediately got up and looked for his daughter, worried that something was wrong. But he saw his daughter begin to walk towards his SO, holding on to the bed. They eventually took a few more steps and came to his SO. “Oh, cherie! You did it!” they cried, holding on to their daughter closely. Arno quickly got out of bed and held them both closely, happy for this achievement.

Jacob: Jacob spent the whole day out with Evie, foiling yet another templar plot. He was ready to come home. He recently moved to a small home in London with his SO and their son. Evie always joked that his SO finally ‘domesticated’ him, but they swore that now they had two children, not just one. Still, Jacob would make it a point to come home in time to tuck his son to sleep and cuddle his SO. So, when he returned home (by sliding in his son’s window, as always) to see that neither his SO or his son were in the room, he felt his heart stop. He frantically began to search the house and finally found them in the living room. They were sitting on the floor with their son and he was taking small steps towards her. Jacob sighed and grabbed his chest, trying to slow down his heart beat. He watched as his son took steps and landed in his SO’s arms. “Brilliant job, love!” they complimented it. “I can’t wait to show daddy!” With that, Jacob swooped in and planted a kiss on his SO’s forehead. “Daddy’s home, dearest,” he said, causing his SO to blush and his son to squeal. He then scooped his son up in his arms. “Now then, my little assassin, how about a bedtime story?”

“There was this pentagram; each of us had two people in the band, not the same, that we got along with the best, then someone further away. So for me, it was Cherie and Lita on one side, next to Cherie was Joan, between Joan and Lita was Sandy. Lita and Joan had nothing really in common except the desire to be in a band. Lita and Sandy like hard rock. Lita and I were the only completely straight girls. We had overlapping taste in clothes; we’d go try on clothes and check out guys together. Cherie and I were the two nice ones in the band; we were the ones into helping other people.

– Jackie Fox, Queens of Noise: The Real Story of the Runaways by Evelyn McDonnell

Cherie Currie. Cherry bomb. Sex kitten. Brigitte Bardot in a trailer park. Joan Jett. The rock ‘n’ roll heart, street tough brunette. Sandy West. Miss California with a joint in her mouth and a chip on her shoulder. Lita Ford. The love child of Sofia Loren and Ritchie Blackmore. You do not wanna fuck with Lita.
—  Kim Fowley, The Runaways (2010)

anonymous asked:

I loved the story where Plumette is pregnant, could we have a follow up story where Lumiere sees the baby for the first time? Please?

oh my god, what a good prompt

he is so afraid he is going to lose her. his hands hurt from wringing them, from pinching out every finger and running thumbs against his palms as he listens to her scream. I thought children came into the world tenderly, tenderly, he thinks, not bathed in blood and wet and screaming and Plumette

Another scream from her. Cogsworth has to put a hand on his arm to keep Lumiere from throwing himself into the room. Mrs. Potts and Belle laid out strict orders: no coming in, no pacing just inside the door, you’ll worry her by being worried, she knows you’re just outside but she doesn’t need you now.

I need her, he tells Cogsworth. I need her safe.

A maid runs by again—the last of many in just this hour—grabbing herbs, cloths, rags, Lumiere can’t keep a hold of how many things they need to yank his wife open and pull out a screaming ball of life. I knew being human was messy, he tells Cogsworth. I did not know it could make me so afraid.

Adam comes by and stands, useless, hoping his very presence can help calm his friend down. Lumiere’s hair is on end from waiting, from hoping—oh, god, mon dieu, mon ange, it is so silent now, they have killed Plumette, his dearest has gone silent at last.

A tiny, tiny cry. Oh, mon dieu, he calls out, unaware he looks mad, the last cry of her sweet, sweet life—Plumette, cherie, cherie

Adam is holding his arm, smiling, why are they smiling, Cogsworth is beaming and relaxed his grip. What is there to smile at, when Plumette is dead and life is dead and the palace has gone silent too.

“She’s alive,” Adam whispers. “Lumiere, she’s alive.”

Sacre bleau. Of all the suns—

Mrs. Potts and Belle can’t hold the door shut; he flies through it so fast and doesn’t hear Adam’s “ouch” as the prince follows and touches the molten handle of the door. Lumiere is at her bed in a moment, diving through the feathers that ripped through the mattresses and searching her out amid the candlelight. When did it get so dark? When did they bring out the candles? Lumiere has spent so long thinking of Plumette he did not realize the sun had set. He hides his hands—he always expects them to be on fire, now, he doesn’t dare touch or burn her—and stares into her sweet, sweet face, streaked with sweat but so alive. Oh, ma cherie, she is so alive, he whispers, talking to nothing. 

“Yes,” says Plumette, whispering back, “she is so alive. Look, mon amour,” and holds out something for his still-red hands. 

Lumiere has known what it is like for all time to stop and your heart to stop beating, but he never knew it could be exquisite. Last time, it was like a dulling of death, this time—so much life

“I cannot speak,” he whispers, “She is—she is magnifique. She is light.”

“She does seem to glow,” and Plumette’s laugh is low and steady and exhausted and everything he ever wanted. “Let’s hope she has your fiery spirit.”

Her dusty skin—so small, so soft, so tender. Lumiere has seen magic but never a wonder such as this. Such a tiny thing, smaller than he has ever been, glowing from some secret joy.

“I heard the first cry of her life,” he whispers. “I heard her cry.”

“She is sweet, so sweet, I love her so,” says Plumette, and smiles against her feather pillows, her curls damp against her head.

The child curls her fingers around Lumiere’s hands, soothing the bruises he left. He touches her hands with his, his fingers dancing on her own.

“I think I’ve come alive for the third time of my life,” he whispers, and Plumette smiles. He curls himself in the bed beside her, and she leans against his arms, her own hands touching first him, then the child, a little laughter waltzing between them as the baby sneezes and snores. Plumette fall asleep on his shoulder; Lumiere sleeps too, his lips still pressed to her forehead, his arms still holding the child.

Mrs. Potts shuts the door and damps the candles. “They have a lifetime of light ahead of them,” she says. “Let’s give them a little dark for now.”


* Lafayette X Reader

* Hamiltime

* Requested by anonymous

* Request: the reader is Laf’s wife from France and she comes to visit him and finds Alexander and I’d like “Have you seen Lafayette?” And he’s like “Um who are you?” And she’s like “I’m his wife” and the hamilsquad is all like “Laf you have a wife???” And he’s like “Yeah I love her hi boo this is a surprise why are you here?” And they’re like “YOU DIDN’T TELL US?” And he’s like “I mean, we’re in a revolution. It was never the time.”

A/N: So its kind of short but oh well. I didn’t plan to get this one done so soon either but here it is. It’s like 98% fluff. Oh, and this isn’t proof read so there will be mistakes. Anyway, enjoy!

Word Count: 1, 759


You stepped off the boat you just spent months on, grateful to have your feet back on dry land. Now you just had to find Lafayette, and that’s no easy task. You never knew what he’d be doing or who he’d be connected to. It didn’t help that you had very little knowledge of these little colonies. Lafayette believed the people to be brave and fighting for what’s right. So he came to help. If Lafayette believed them to be good people, then you trusted his judgement.

You needed to stop someone and see if they knew him. Unfortunately you weren’t very comfortable with English. You could speak it but tended to second guess words. And now you had to have a fluent conversation in the language. After stopping a few people you were having very little luck. Either people wouldn’t know Lafayette or you couldn’t piece the damn sentence together. “Excusez-moi?” You asked and tapped a young man on the shoulder. He had his dark hair pulled into a ponytail. He could use a shave and looked like he could use some sleep as well.

“Oui?” He replied and your eyes lit up at the possibility of finding someone who spoke French.

“Français?” You asked hopefully.

“Eh, I speak it a little.” He said in your native tongue. “How can I help?”

“I’m looking for a man. Last name would be Lafayette.” You told him.

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Imagine: You and Gaston were in love before it all.

“Gaston! You gave me quite a fright!” You shrieked, as you slowed your breathing back down to normal. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to scare my lady.” He replied, bowing his head a little. “You are already forgiven. What are you even doing here?” You giggled a little, as he knelt down beside you. 

You had been gathering flowers for the dinner banquet your family would be hosting. “I’m here to see you.” He wriggled his eyebrows. “I don’t what you would want to do with little old me.” You shrugged, returning your focus to your duty. 

“Oh you’re saying that. I was hoping I could come to dinner.” Gaston squeezed his lips together, creating a thin line. “You know you can’t. Not yet anyway. Soon, my love.” You were aware that Gaston wanted to announce your courtship, but you remained unsure of what the rest of your family would think. 

You feared that they would take him away from you, and ban you from seeing him as you wish. They would casually remind you that you were too young, too naive, for him. For a man like Gaston. But he loved you and you loved him, and to you that was all that truly mattered. 

You only wished you had his confidence, his stride, his stamina. You were meek, you certainly weren’t one for chit chat, and innocent. But Gaston he understood you. He knew your likes and dislikes. He was rather fond of you. You have known each other practically all of your lives. At first, Gaston thought you of more as a little sister, but those feelings quickly changed with age. 

You were each other’s first love. You both never felt the way you did about each other than anybody before. Gaston nodded, of course he assumed that you were embarrassed of him.  You told him it was the opposite, he questioned you further by daring to say then what was it then. “Gaston I am afraid they will take you away from me! I love you! I love you too much for them to do that.” You cut your eyes over to your basket, attempting to hide your teary eyes.

 "Oh ma Cherie. I did not intend to upset you. Please forgive me.“ He licked his lips and inched closer to you, and tried to place a hand on your shoulder. You flinched at his sudden movement but then allowed him to touch you nonetheless. "Now do you understand. I would never be embarrassed of you, Gaston. I hope you know that now.” You sighed standing up and smoothing out your cloak and dress. 

“I do. So I guess I better get off now.” He chuckled a little, and pointed over to the adjacent gate. “I guess so.” You picked up your basket, filled with the sweetest and most beautiful bouquet of flowers. “There is something I have to do before I go.” Gaston shut his eyes and breathed in through his nose.

 He leaned his head to the side, and without another word your lips connected. When they touched, the sensation was unimaginable. It was so surreal. Gaston had cupped his hand on your cheek, and you twirled your fingers around one of his loose curls.

How does a moment last forever? 

The End! 

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Harrison "Harry" Wells x Reader Possessive

Imagine Harry getting possessive over you whenever HR is around…

For some odd reason Harry’s been acting strange. Everytime HR’s in the same room as you, Harry would always have an arm around your shoulder or one around your waist. Not that you’re complaining, you like being in his arms. But HR hasn’t been flirty to you since he came here.

One day Harry was in the Speed Room with Jesse checking on her vitals and making sure that she didn’t over exert herself. You were hanging out in the medical room cleaning some supplies and in deep thought. Who knows what the future holds?

“Oh Mon Cheri, would you like some help?” You didn’t hear HR walk in. You gasped in shock and dropped the syringes you were gonna start cleaning. You turned around to face him and smiled softly.

“Oh HR, I didn’t hear you walk in.”

“May I help you?” He smiled down at you.

“Yeah, you can help me. Can you pick those up and set them on the table?“ You turned and walked to the counter where the proper cleaning supplies were. HR walked to where you dropped the syringes and placed them on the table. You both cleaned the syringes and chatted for a bit. HR has a really nice personality, he may be a bit odd, but he means well. According to HR people on his earth are like that so you didn’t mind. You let him be himself.

Who did mind was Harry. Harry walked in to get you so you both could go home, but he found you and HR chatting. Harry walked and hugged you from behind, you giggled and looked up. HR stopped talking and just smiled at the couple. He would write about how adorable they are later.

Harry looked down at you and winked, “Ready to go home?”




Let’s all have a moment of silence for Phichit Chulanont, social media master, who predicted Viktuuri happening the second Viktor jetted to Japan. I pity this poor genius, who probably tried to share his JUICY EXCITING NEWS/PREDICTIONS with other skaters only to be met with a fond reaction of “oh, yeah, of course” and Phichit’s like HOW IS EVERYONE SO CHILL ABOUT THIS.

And then, in Barcelona… the big Banquet Reveal goes down. Christophe just sighs, pats Phichit’s hand, and says “oh, cherie, we all knew that ship was sailing for months before you told us.” MONTHS.

And Phichit, who prides himself as a forward thinker, as the first distributor of good news and Twitter wisdom, just brokenly cradles his head in his hands.

“I thought I was the first,” he whispers, “I never even had a chance.”

The Struggles of a Male Veela (Part 1)

Originally posted by songinourhearts

Louis Weasley x Soulmate!OC

Length: 2658 words

Warnings: not really. This is a soulmate!au, ive altered the ages of many of the next gen!, also the logic of what a veela is but whatevs. I pictured a young Hunter Parrish as Louis, but there’s like no gifs of him???, not a reader insert the OC will have a name and is female

Part 1 of ‘The Struggles of a Male Veela’ Series

Louis Weasley was of veela blood.

The gene ran through the blood of his mother’s family. Various members of the line had been veelas, some marrying into the family, others being born so. Louis’ own mother, Fleur Weasley nee Delacour, had been only one quarter veela, stemming from her grandmother.

Louis was lucky, or unlucky, that his father’s blood was tainted. Not in the way many old pureblood families will claim, but rather through an experience he faced. Whilst not a true werewolf (as he was not bitten on the full moon), Bill Weasley did hold the slight changes of were-kind, none more obvious than in his veins. The mix of bloods that pulsed through Louis’ veins meant that he inherited the full-veela gene.

As well as all the problems that included.

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