He's obsessed, insane even. He has to know her, watch her, touch her. She's his, and nothing will stop him. But she's smarter than he thinks.. ••• "You call me if he bothers you ever again, yeah?" "It's really nothing I-" he cuts me off "You'll call me." He says firmer "okay?" "Okay" I say softly, looking up at him. He's so fucking close to me. We just stand there for a moment and I'm having trouble remembering how to breathe. He leans closer, gently tilting my head up so that my eyes stay on him. "Good girl"

In a desperate attempt to secure a roof over her younger sister's head, nineteen year old Allie Winthrop takes a job that no one else seemed too eager to apply for. The job is a maid position for a well to do family who had made a fortune in both the ranching and railroad industries. Her bosses, Mr. and Mrs. Treadwell, aren't exactly the friendliest of people. Pure snobs truly is what they are, but Allie is used to being looked down on by the wealthy. All she cares about is that the jobs pays well and offers room and board to not only her but her sister, Amelia. The Treadwell's had even agreed to allow Amelia to get schooling from the woman they employed to teach their own children. Life with the Treadwell's is better than the life that Allie and Amelia had known before and Allie feels content and secure until Amelia starts speaking of a man in the attic. Spurred by her sisters stories and by the Treadwell's startling reactions to her questions about the attic, Allie decides to take a look for herself. What she discovers there will change her life forever.

When Ava gets offered a job as a maid at the Chastain estate it almost seems to be too good to be true. The work is easy and fair, her coworkers seem nice enough, and the best part? The owner doesn't even seem to live there. That is, until he returns. 11/30/21 ranked #1 in 'millionaire'

The terms of Draco's probation require him to finish his final year of schooling, he just wants to survive with what little dignity he has left, in face of students that hate him, falling behind on his school work, and all the strange fevers and weakness and changes... that only seem to be getting worse. tags: eighth year au, veela!draco

It started with just seven steps to try and win Potter's affection, but life and relationships are rarely as easy as a checklist on a piece of parchment.

"He fell into despair and lost all hope... For who could ever love a beast?" -Beauty and The Beast ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• When Elle stumbled upon an ad for a stay in chef, she thought the universe had finally tipped in her favor. After graduating from culinary school, she wasn't sure what direction her life would go in... Until she met Stefan DeGramont. At first, he seemed like a cold hearted, presumptuous, egotistical asshole. As she grew to know him... Well... I guess you could add Mafia boss to the list. Now tangled in his crazy Mafia business, will something fragile like her heart, be on the line? Or maybe something more risky, like her life? Could all this be avoided If she can learn to love the man behind the beast... Before it's too late. ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• "A thorn defends the Rose. Harming only those that will steal the blossom." **PLEASE Beware: I wrote this a few years ago so the spelling errors are there, and some cringe moments are present. I'll accept all health invoices for any emotional and mental damage inflicted during this read xoxo

"NEXT!" Called the man sitting at the registration table. Looks like thats me... "Name." He drawled. "Uh~" Oh no..that voice was'nt going to fool anyone. I cleared my throat. "Uh....Ping." Yeah, that deep voice was much more convincing. The man shot me an annoyed look. "Ping...what?" He growled. Well geez. Don't blame me if you don't like your own job. "Excuse me!" He screamed. Oh shoot, did I say that out loud? "Fa...my name is Fa Ping." He continued to stare me down. "Any relation to Fa Zhou?" "Thats my Pop." I smiled slightly. He returned my friendly gesture with a scowl. "Your dad was a great warrior...you must be whats left." He handed me a ticket. "Your in tent 133, with Yao, Poe, and Li. Now get out of my line! You smell like fruit cakes and panty liners." I wrinkled my nose at him. But started walking in the direction he pointed me in. Aye-ya! This was SUCH a bad idea.

The survivors of the Second Wizarding War return to Hogwarts after a summer of rebuilding and healing. Harry had been offered a position for Auror Training, which he quickly declined in favor of one final year with his friends at Hogwarts. He hoped that the year would bring nothing but normalcy and quiet as he begins to move on. Draco had been pardoned after Harry Potter testified in his and his mother's defense during the Trials. He had been released from Azkaban on the condition that he return to Hogwarts and complete his final year. It would serve as part of his probation. With his father awaiting the Kiss and his mother a permanent prisoner in their own home, Draco struggles to find himself as he picks up the pieces of his life. This chronicles their Eighth and Final Year at Hogwarts. *I don't own Harry Potter. All rights belong to JK Rowling. This is a fan-fiction. Drarry / Eighth Year / boyxboy / fluff / angst / smut (you've been warned!) 😘

"You can talk to me, i'll listen for hours." "Maybe that's your problem..." "What?" "Listening to me." *** After the second Wizarding War, Harry and his friends return to Hogwarts one final time to finish off their educations. Harry struggles do come to terms with being alive while many of his friends are not. Draco is having trouble dealing with the slander from his classmates due to his position in the war. Harry can't help but take notice of Draco, and how much he has changed, and how much that confused him. Nightmares, Astronomy, paintings, and many lost sketches later, how will they act on their new found epiphanies?

Disclaimer: massive spoilers for the series finale. Triggers for pretty brief suicidal thoughts. They both know it. They say it to each other in looks and tentative touches, when House is rubbing Wilson's back when he feels as if he's about to hack up his lungs. In those moments, he doesn't have enough headspace to think, "House loves me," but sometimes he doesn't have to think it. Sometimes it's just his touch on Wilson's back and a few gentle words swathed in sarcasm. He knows. They both know. And what if Wilson was a star? And what if House was the universe, and what if he loved Wilson and let the oceans of time dwindle so he could be with him; only him, forever? What if there was a utopia?