“We have received confirmation that there is a hostage situation in progress at a warehouse compound two hours out of Los Angeles, following a multiple-vehicle pileup on Highway 101 this morning...” The one in which Stiles has lived to (legal) adulthood and, along the way, become a bit of a badass himself.

Well, Wolfies it has been quite a semester. I started this blog to document my triumphs, trials, and of course, all the gossip I encountered as the sole female Radio Broadcasting major at BHU. Between co-hosting the morning show with Danny Mahealani, keeping my relationship with radio tech Vernon Boyd under wraps, and saving the department from crippling budget cuts--me and a group I surreptitiously named “The Wolf Pack”--managed to save the day. Until next time. xxx Erica

He promised Oshie he would make the fucking audition tape, so he did. And against all fucking odds, he got a callback from a woman who sounded like even she couldn’t believe she was making the call. Because that’s Jonny’s life now. or, a Bachelor AU, where film star Patrick Kane is going on 88 Dates and Jonny goes on more than a few of them.

Honor among thieves, or something close enough.

Two very different people fall in love with a boy called death. Finding each other is chance. Falling for each other isn’t. This is their story. (Or in which Nico is Death with a capital D, Annabeth is a serial killer, and Percy is the poor schmuck who falls for both of them.)

Nana heralds from a family of serial killers. She neglects to mention this to her husband, but when Iemitsu makes it clear he doesn’t expect Tsuna to join his family, Nana brings him into hers. This becomes a problem when Iemitsu changes his mind...

He was completely unfazed by Ryuji’s doubt. “I can be very charming,” Akira assured him magnanimously. “I’ll have you know I’m a man of many talents. I’m sure any number of my skills will help me win him over.” Ryuji raised a sardonic eyebrow at him. “‘Talents?’ What, you mean like breaking and entering, assault, and hostage negotiation?” A blank, glasses-blocked stare. “You don’t think those will help?”

This was not his bedroom; this was definitely not his apartment. It was a single room, with a small table across from the bed and a fireplace on the back wall. When he looked out the window, he could see evergreen trees and the chatty bird who wanted everyone to know what his plans for the day were. The walls and floor were plain wood, and a small painting of a tree hung on the wall. At the end of the bed—which was not Brian’s normal bed—Pat looked about two minutes away from an anxiety attack. Mentally, Brian gave Pat a pass for what he would usually consider an overreaction. “Are we,” Brian started, then tried again: “Is this—?” Pat nodded, holding out a small yellow pouch with a parsnip drawn on the front and an open letter addressed to Brian.

A fake relationship for the sake of revenge had sounded like a good idea to Wanyin at the time.

Jin Guangyao lifts his head and smiles. "I'm considering a problem." "Can I be of any assistance with it?" He drops a kiss on Lan Xichen's chest. With the nail of one finger he lightly traces the characters for irony on Lan Xichen's side. "Not this one, er-ge."

The melody gets a little clearer when he breaks out of the trees, and Jingyi changes course with certainty, barreling down the back hill and through the Cloud Recesses, dodging scandalized disciples left and right. He throws open the doors to the Receiving Hall without announcement and bows nearly double, eyes on the floor instead of on the shocked faces of the Mei delegation and the impenetrable gaze of the Chief Cultivator. "Forgive this disciple," Jingyi shouts, because he's going to get punished for rule breaking regardless. "From the back hill, Hanguang-jun, there is a song in the wind!" Lan Jingyi comes of age.

"Tell me about what I need to do," Qin Su says, steeling herself, forcing her anxiety down. She doesn't have a choice, she has to put aside her fears and do this. Jin Guangyao scoops back strands of her hair and twists them deftly into braids. "It can't be too scripted, or he won't believe it. Nie Mingjue values honesty and forthrightness, and despises liars and schemers." Qin Su exhales sharply at the confirmation of what she'd already known, the potential danger that lies ahead. "So I need to seduce him without letting him know I'm seducing him?" [Fix-it AU in which QS finds out the truth of her parentage and plots with JGY to get her a husband. Things Ensue.]

Crumpled at the base of Koi Tower’s long stairs for the second time, Jin Guangyao presses his face into the stone, takes a deep breath despite re-broken ribs, and arranges his features as carefully as he knows how. Then he stands, moving carefully around the pain, and bows deep, arms held straight and true. The walk back up the steps to his father's side is painful enough to wipe the smile from his face; it is not painful enough to prevent him re-taking his place as seneschal, bowing again at the top of the steps. As he straightens, he prioritizes his plans for his father’s demise over all else.

If Wen Qing had realized sooner that she wasn’t in the afterlife or hallucinating, but had actually traveled back in time, she’d have done things differently. There’d have been less murder, for one thing.

The first time Nicke sees a mature pair of player wings in person—not pre-downs, not rookie wings, but a full wingspan—it's the April before the draft, and he's in a dressing room in Latvia, trying not to be star-struck by his own teammates. Or: The NHL gives you wings.

Beau was willing to bet that a lot of people's weird superstitions started out like his. Something that had been a dumb bet or stupid competition in college or Juniors, but then fuck if they didn't score that night. So it became a thing, and since enough of them have weird fucking things they'd rather not get chirped about, it just becomes normal. All that said, Beau probably could have braced himself a little better for the inevitable, which was Flower pausing in his rapid-fire and unintelligible conversation with Tanger to grin like the cat that had caught the canary and ask, in the most delighted tone possible, "Sunshine, are you wearing panties?"

"It can't get any worse," said Nicklas Backstrom in an interview before the first round of the 2018 playoffs. He should have known to be careful of the jinx something like that could bring, but now it's there, and Nicke and the team are determined to get rid of it by any means necessary.

The Republic sends a combat photographer to be attached to the 212th until further notice, citing the need for a morale boost. The clones make up a fake clone, citing the absolute fact that it is very funny. Somehow, these two things save the galaxy.