scattered sunshine

The way to happiness: keep your heart free from hate, your mind from worry. Live simply, expect little, give much. Fill your life with love. Scatter sunshine. Forget self, think of others. Do as you would be done by. Try this for a week and you will be surprised.
—  Norman Vincent Peale
dating stiles stilinski would include...

—being introduced to him by isaac

•though he hates isaac, he was glad for the beautiful soul he was introduced to.

•you are a shy and reserved person and he is friendly and tries too fast to get you to open up to him.

•"who is she?“

•for a few weeks, scott gets annoyed by stiles because you are literally all stiles talks about

•stiles asking isaac about a thousand questions about you, and you about stiles.

•"jesus christ, would you two just date already?”

—stiles and you work together and research at unholy hours of the night.

•"i’m so exhausted, how do you do this?“

•stiles chuckles at your tiredness.

•"lots of stamina without sleeping, for days at a time.”

•"i don’t even understand?“ you are yawning and falling asleep in your hands and jolting awake after dozing off

•after you fall asleep, your head resting uncomfortably on your arms, and your arms resting on scattered papers, he slowly picks you up.

•he takes you to his room where he slips you under the blankets and tucks you in, you’re fast asleep and he stays awake, drinking coffee to keep himself awake.

—waking up in his room, and you’re wondering what happened

•you walk down the stairs with his hoodie on because it’s so cold in the house

•he’s still awake surprisingly to you, and you walk into the living room where every piece of research is scattered everywhere

•"good morning, sunshine.”

•you blush at his nickname for you and bite your lip.

•"want something to eat or some coffee?“

•"sure”

—after that day, you begin to get closer to him

•it starts off with conversations before and while waking to class, and gradually turns into face timing and hanging out

•him wanting to know everything about you

•you wanting to know more about him

•playing twenty questions with each other

—being devastated when the nogitsune possesses him

•crying and begging to some higher power for him to come back to you

•the nogitsune finding it interesting how stiles is so in love with you

—running to him and crying when stiles comes back.

•"baby, shhh.“

•hugging him tightly and listening to his heartbeat.

•"stiles, you’re back!”

•"i’m back, it’s okay. i’m here.“

—spilling out all your feelings to him and him to you

•"i love you so much, y/n.”

•"i love you too, stiles.“

fabulouspatsystone  asked:

3 of the setting prompts please :)

From this list. Set somewhere around IWTB, I suppose. 

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” The tall boy says as his dirty fingers carefully trace the ‘no trespassing’ sign. The other boy, much smaller but just as messy as his friend, rolls his eyes. He stares ahead and grins. There’s something about this place that makes him want to ignore all the rules, all these signs someone must have put up here. He wants to explore the wide fields and find out if anyone even lives there. There’s a special scent in the air, he thinks, as he takes a deep breath. They have to go in, find out more.

“Come on, Danny. What could happen? No one cares about this place.”

“Then why do you care?” The boy, Danny, asks trying to tame his hair. Both boys need a hair cut and a shower. Neither of them cares. No one in their lives pays enough attention to them.

“Just follow me, Danny. It’ll be fun.” He grabs the fence with his hands and easily climbs it, quick as a cat. He may be small still, but he’s strong and stubborn. Too stubborn, people tell him all the time, and he just rolls his eyes at them. They’ll fall out one day, one of his so called mothers has said once; they haven’t yet and he is certain it’s just a lie anyway. Like so many things in his life.

“Come on!” He yells, sprinting ahead, unable to remain still another moment.

“Wait! Wait for me, Will!” Danny stumbles on the soft ground and Will finally turns around, waits until the other boy has caught up with him.

“Look, there’s a house! Let’s check it out.”

“Will, we’re trespassing. We could get into so much trouble if-”

“Who would live out here, Danny? I bet it’s abandoned and full of cool stuff.” His eyes settle on the unremarkable house there in the distance. It beckons him, invites him over, like a new friend. There is no one here to stop them anyway. Another grin directed at the sky and Will is off, running like there’s no tomorrow. He knows Danny will follow him. He always does.

*

Scully tells him he’s paranoid at least twice a day. Today, Mulder is certain, she’d tell him a third or fourth time. He is convinced that something – someone – is out there in their garden. There’s a faint rustling, voices if he listens closely, and he swears it’s not a rat, not a cat. Not even a fox. The first time they saw one, Scully’s silent giggles evolved into a full belly laugh. She scared away the fox, before she took another one into her bed; their love making that night full of giggling, lust, and pure adoration. That, however, seems forever ago now. Scully, if she’s home at all, is stressed out, continuously rolling her eyes at him, her sighs deep and long. Just a lot of work, Mulder, she assures him when he dares to ask. He is not sure if she means her actual job at the hospital or this life, with him, here in the middle of nowhere. He has not yet dared to ask.

Paranoid or not, Mulder stealthily stares out the windows. Nothing. He moves to the back, soundlessly, and for the first time wonders if Scully is right; maybe they should get a dog. They both still got their guns as protection of course. Scully’s is upstairs in a drawer under some lingerie she hasn’t worn in ages. His is in his study, lying uselessly under papers and documents. Such trite hiding places, so easy to find, so easy to use against them. Just like this house; Mulder and Scully in plain sight, like rabbits, just waiting to be executed. He is not crazy, not this time. Someone is out there, right there in the bushes, a foot peeking out. Mulder’s heart beats fast, but steady, his eyes fixate on the spot. He tries to decide whether to get his or Scully’s gun; which one is easier to reach? But before he can make a decision, the foot moves. A boy, around 7 years old, if at all, he thinks, stands up, runs his hand through his filthy, dark hair and just stares at the house. A second boy, taller and obviously less certain about being there, stands up. He chews on his fingernails, his eyes flying about crazily. That’s Mulder’s cue; he pushes against the door and the boys gasps.

“What are you doing here?” Mulder tries to sound authoritative, but judging by the smaller boy’s expression, he fails.

“We’re sorry,” the taller kid answers, tripping over his words, “We didn’t think anyone lived here. We just… we just…” Mulder thinks he is just about ready to start crying. He’s standing behind the smaller boy, which looks strange, but it’s clear to him whose idea this was in the first place.

“This is private property,” Mulder starts, eyeing them carefully, “Didn’t you see the signs?” The smaller boy snorts, rolls his eyes.

“Will, come on, let’s just leave.” The other child whispers loudly, elbowing his friend. It’s a common name, William, Mulder thinks absent-mindedly. How many people are called William in the US alone? Still, his mind starts rattling as he can’t tear his eyes away from the boy.

“Are you going to call the police?” Will asks, his eyes growing wide. He scratches his head and Mulder wonders when the kid last washed his hair. If he ran away from home. Up in the sky, clouds break away and make way for a few scattered rays of sunshine. One lands on the boy’s hair, makes it shimmer reddish underneath the soft brown. Mulder blinks a few times, just a trick of light, he tells himself. So many Williams out there; this is not yours. This is not him.

“Mister, are you gonna call the police?” The kid repeats his question, this time raising an eyebrow. The familiarity of that simple movement is too much for Mulder. He feels like he should sit down, take the child and interrogate him, or send him away and forget it ever happened. Maybe Scully is right; he is crazy, out of his mind, insane. None of this is real.

“I think he’s not right in the head, Danny.” Will says without taking his eyes off Mulder. Who swallows hard, clears his throat.

“I am right in the head, don’t worry. I’m not going to call the police if you leave now.” Except he doesn’t want him to leave. Not if he's…

“Of course,” the boy Danny nods eagerly and grabs at Will’s sweater sleeve, “we’re as good as gone. Let’s go, Will.”

“Do you live here all by yourself, Mister?”

“I live here with my wife.” That’s not entirely true, as he and Scully have never actually made it to the altar; he figures it’s just easier to explain to this boy. Not that he owes him an explanation, or anything else. Yet, he feels like he does. Will squints his eyes against the sun and freckles appear on his skin as if someone were painting them on in record time. Mulder knows this face, refuses to believe it, to even entertain the idea that this is…

“Will, come on.” Danny tugs at Will’s arm and Mulder is distracted for a moment when he sees it.

“You’re hurt.” He says, pointing at the child’s hand. Both boys stare at it, blood trickling down from a gash on his wrist.

“Oh.” His voice is suddenly as small as his whole body. “I didn’t even notice.”

“Come inside, I’ll take care of it,” neither boy moves, “my wife is a doctor so I know what I’m doing.” Their expressions, previously curious, change to wariness.

“We really need to go, Mister,” Danny says, his voice quivering, “It’s not too bad. We’ll take care of it at home. Right, Will?”

“Yeah,” Will replies, glancing at Mulder. He knows these eyes. He knows them. He sees them every morning when he wakes up. Sees them each time he looks across the kitchen table. Mulder searches for his voice; he has so many questions, no answers for the boy in return if he were to have any, but his voice remains silent.

“We gotta go,” they’re both walking backwards, afraid of what might happen if they were to turn their backs to him, “It’s just a small wound. Nothing bad. Sorry again, Mister.” Will’s voice is calm, then he stops, slaps Danny’s shoulder and yells ‘run’! Mulder watches, frozen in place, as they sprint away.

“Will…” he whispers into the air. No one hears him. Mulder goes back inside, locks the door behind him. Will, Will, Will. He wants to tell Scully, the need to do so beating strongly in his chest. Will, he marvels, a smile tugging at his lips. It falls away almost as quickly; you’re crazy, Mulder, she is going to say, with a sigh, a roll of her eyes, Will is gone. Gone forever. What’s the point in telling her, he thinks, because she is not going to believe him anyway.

*

“Will, what was that?” Danny is panting, his hands on his thigh, trying to catch some much needed air. Will feels the same; he is lightheaded and slightly dizzy. He stares at the blood on his wrist, touches it carefully. It doesn’t hurt. Doesn’t even sting.

“It was weird, wasn’t it? That guy?” Danny goes on. Will doesn’t answer. He turns around; the house now a small spot in the distance. He doesn’t want to leave here, he thinks. Something about this place… something in the air. He shakes his head, shakes it off. Just a place like any other. Just another crazy person.

“Let’s just go, Danny.” But Will remains quiet on their way back, his thoughts on the strange man, who Will thinks might have looked a bit like him. He considers asking Danny if he thinks so, too, but his friend is talking about basketball again, lost in his own world. Will glances back once more; the house is no longer visible, neither is the fence, the no trespassing sign. In a day or two, he will have forgotten that this ever happened.

madmadamemimble  asked:

I think you're a forest. A very alive and thriving one, with blossoming trees, creeping moss and sunshine scattered through the leaves. Some areas are denser than others and no sunlight can get through, but there are fireflies and glowing mushrooms there. It's a calm forest, filled with life.

This has to be one of the prettiest and nicest things anyone has ever said to me, thank you~ 💜

Mor : * walking in the room looking like a goddess,scattering sunshine everywhere *

Azriel : * his face expressionless , trying hard not to check on her legs *

Inside he is like : * nice legs daisy dukes makes a man go woo woo *

Originally posted by ignitetheliight

Day 1: AH- Fever Pitch

Alright so this is Chapter 1 of a new multi chapter called Fever Pitch that I’ve been patiently chipping away at these past few weeks. Featuring Caroline as an elite gymnast and Klaus as a football player. 

Summary: Klaus and Caroline are both at the top of their game in their respective sports. When Caroline is sidelined by a career threatening injury, she flies to London to recuperate, and very quickly meets Klaus Mikaelson, captain and striker of a top football team.

“Good morning passengers, this is your captain speaking. We will be commencing descent into Heathrow shortly but first I ask that you move your seats to an upright position and stow away your tray tables and all personal belongings. It is currently six thirty am Greenwich time and we are experiencing some cloudiness with scattered sunshine.”

Caroline moves her seat to an upright position, eyes flicking towards her crutches to where they’re stowed in the cupboard with the rest of the coats from first class. She flexes her left knee experimentally, wincing at the slight twinge of pain she experiences.

A flight attendant bends down as if guessing the direction of her thoughts. The younger girl’s name had been Vicki, and she’d been nothing but attentive for the entire flight out from LAX, even fetching heat packs and ice for her when her knee required it.

“Good morning Caroline.” Vicki greets her warmly, and it’s amazing that the girl can look as fresh as a daisy after pulling a red eye shift. There’s not a single wrinkle on her uniform, and her smile is just as bright as it had been when they’d left at the other end. “Can I get you anything before I land? I’ll pop back to help you with your crutches once we’ve got wheels on the tarmac of course, and the other passengers have agreed to let you disembark first.”

The first class cabin was relatively empty this flight, just an older couple who were on their way home and another girl she recognises as a Victoria’s Secret model.

“I’m fine, thank you Vicki. And please pass my thanks onto the other passengers. That’s very kind of them.” She gives Vicki a smile, and the flight attendant gives her a polite smile in return before continuing down the aisle to carry out her pre landing duties.

Caroline leans back into the headrest of her seat and closes her eyes, wondering again why this was a good idea to even come to London in the first place.

Sports injuries were a funny thing, especially at an elite level. In fact, it didn’t matter what level you were at, injuries were a massive hit to your confidence. And when you were in a sport like gymnastics, a loss of confidence was the last thing that you needed, especially when your team was headed to the Olympics in the next year or so.

It happened at a world meet. She was captaining the US women’s artistic gymnastic team to what would have been an easy victory. All it had taken was one misstep in a tumbling line, and she’d ended up sprawled out on the sprung floor with a torn ACL.

In one fell swoop she’d gone from being the best gymnast on that team to being a liability. The doctors couldn’t decide whether or not she’d ever compete again, but she was getting old. Most gymnasts retired early 20’s, and she was pushing 24, practically a dinosaur.

It was her coach, Alaric Saltzman, who seemed determined that she would compete again, and that she would captain her team again at an elite level- The Olympics.

Ric had wanted her to recover out of the public eye, and away from the pressures of the people around her who might push her back into competition far too early. As it turns out, Ric was friends with Enzo Augustine, one of the top rehabilitative physiotherapists in London. Enzo had agreed to take her on as a patient, and when Caroline had rung her oldest friend Bonnie Bennett, the other girl had immediately agreed to let her stay in the guest bedroom of her Canary Wharf apartment free of charge.

Long story short, she was the luckiest person on this planet right now.

The plane slams down onto the tarmac, and she can’t help but tighten her grip on the armrests of her chair, eyes squeezing shut with the squeal of the brakes and the shuddering of the plane. She always had hated take offs and landings.

She unclips her seatbelt once the light chimes on over her head, and as promised Vicki materialises at her side, waiting patiently with her crutches as she gathers her backpack.

“I’ll have one of the ground staff gather your bags for you and help you through to the foyer. Do you have anyone waiting for you?” Vicki asks politely as she tucks the crutches under her arms.

“Yeah I think I’ll be alright. Thank you again for all your help.” She smiles warmly as she levers herself to her feet, Vicki handing her the crutches, looking on anxiously while she tucks them under her arms.

As Vicki had promised, a uniformed man was already waiting at the front of the plane, and immediately took her carry on from Vicki, slinging it over his shoulder.

“Let’s get to it then Ms Forbes.” The man tips his head towards her respectfully as she begins the slow progress up the air tunnel. “Is this your first stay in England?”

His tone is polite, no ulterior motive behind his question.

“My first extended stay.” She returns with a smile. “I’m doing some rehab on my knee before heading back to America.”

She continues to make polite small talk with the man as they grab her two suitcases off the carousel and continue through customs and then to the foyer. Her progress through was faster than expected, probably because of her first class status and the fact that she had a British Airways employee helping her along.

And perhaps because of the crutches as well.

She spots Bonnie almost straight away in the arrivals foyer, a tall dark haired man with a mischievous smile waiting beside her.

Bonnie lets out a grin before meeting her halfway, pulling her into a gentle hug so as not to jostle her crutches.

“It’s so good to see you Care! I’m just sorry it had to be under these circumstances.” Bonnie remarks quietly as she steps away carefully.

“Are you kidding? You’re an absolute godsend for letting me stay in your apartment. I really can’t thank you enough.” Caroline replies, shifting her crutches slightly. “Seriously Bon, it’s so great to see you as well. Let’s not wait so long next time.”

The man steps forward, bending down to press a chaste kiss to her cheek.

“This is my fiance, Kol.” Bonnie supplies with a laugh as Kol steps away to take her suitcases from the British Airways employee. “I think I’m going to keep this one.”

“I heard that Witch!” Kol calls, just loud enough for them to hear.

To her surprise, Bonnie lets out an honest to god giggle at his words.

“Come on. Let’s get you settled back at our place.”

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This Week's Forecast

Monday: The last blizzard of winter shakes the branches above your roof. Every time they let go their bundle of snow, you duck your head from inside—ready for the worst.

Tuesday: Turkey sandwich for lunch. Your co-worker’s Diet Pepsi will spill all over it and you still won’t say a word. Don’t give her your notes next week.

Wednesday: Walk the dog in the rain. He’s still happy, dodging the puddles and smelling the fog. He’ll curl up to you for today’s marathon of Wheel of Fortune.

Thursday: Sing in the shower. You haven’t done that since you were nine. I think it’s time you got back to the hang of it.

Friday: Scattered sunshine. Lemon zinger tea.

Saturday: Sweep the spiders out of the cellar. Crack open the windows.

Sunday: The thaw. Sit out in the sun. Let every pore absorb the light and call yourself half-full.

“Live simply, expect little, give much. Fill your life with love. Scatter sunshine. Forget self, think of others. Do as you would be done by.”

Norman Vincent Peale

the way to happiness: keep your heart free from hate, your mind from worry. live simply, expect little, give much. scatter sunshine, forget self, think of others.
—  norman vincent peale, the power of positive thinking
Live simply, expect little, give much. Fill your life with love. Scatter sunshine. Forget self, think of others. Do as you would be done by.
—  Norman Vincent Peale