Foster's Home For Imaginary Friends Fanfiction Novels & Stories

She scanned some files and discovered that Kevin Chen stole a lot of money from the company that they weren't aware of. Hillary sighed. How dumb they were that they believed in all his lies. She wished she had the chance to meet and bond to her real foster dad Based on her mom's story his real foster dad was a loving husband and a great father to her. After work he will go home straight away and played with her sometimes they will go out and eat their dinner in fancy restaurants. He never gets tired taking care of them and spoiling them with all the things they want. He was kind and energetic.

He was also the future alpha after his alpha Alex. It was afternoon when we came from the run, the party arrangements were setting in. “Dreaming of finding your psychopath mate and running away” an irritating voice came from behind which I recognized immediately as my sister, Myla carnell. “ yup. Dreaming of living a life a normal being” “Psychopath”. she exclaimed and went away flipping her hair.

I hugged him tighter. "I wrote them, they wrote back - for a while at least. I was able to visit them at their perfect house. With its white shutters, blue paint, and ice tea on the porch. They were always laughing and smiling and couldn't understand why I wasn't." He swallowed. "Foster home after foster home, until the end, when I was accused of raping or trying to rape my own foster mother, the jealous bitch." He sat up a bit, I followed. Please don't leave, please don't leave.

Inside Ostrane Five, Amora connected to a video call with her Apple laptop. As a part of the top ten families, the Foster family had a lot of things to deal with. Amora would be very busy because of that. However, she didn’t resent it at all because she could learn and do things for Brayan. She would have a high chance of rising to power, so she was quite happy about it. While Amora was enjoying acting all high and mighty in the call, the door slammed open all of a sudden. A short-haired assistant rushed in with an anxious look.

Waddled up to the door of the Victorian on the bend. Their life seemed perfect. I suppose I was wrong. In any case, the Fosters were inseparable—even when she got older. They would waltz around town laughing; sit at cafes looking like someone ought to be photographing them for a perfume campaign. And it stayed that way for a while, mind you. Until Chloe climbed out from a Taxi—and this I saw through my kitchen window.

Foster ran a hand through his sandy blond hair, tangling it and making it messy. My stomach did flip-flops and I cursed my traitorous body for still finding him irresistible. “I know we shouldn’t have done that. That was my fault. But does that mean we can’t be friends?” I stared at him like he was an alien speaking a different language. Finally I said, “No, no we can’t be friends.” Foster actually looked hurt at my reply. “Why not?” “Because I love you, you idiot!” I spoke louder than I’d intended, and I glanced around, making sure there was no one to hear. Luckily, it was just me and Foster underneath the stone archway.

“Did you know each other as kids?” She nodded. “We basically grew up together. We had the same foster family. We may have different last names, but he's family. He's as much my brother as anyone can be.” “Oh.” My heart stopped falling. He was her foster brother. Which also explained the use of past tense when referring to his parents. They must have died when he was much younger. “So is Kindling Romance a family business then?” Charlotte laughed as if I had said something wonderfully clever and funny. “Oh, no. It's all Bastian. He's the one who convinced his two friends they actually had a legit idea. When he gets a notion in his head, the rest of us just come along for the ride.”

I needed to explain, to thank them, to tell them I was safe and that I loved them and that leaving them was the hardest thing I’d ever done. I grabbed my phone—the new one Aiden had given me since my old one was evidence in Theo’s murder case—and headed downstairs. I found my brothers in the war room, going over security arrangements for the festival. “I need Tom and Sarah here tomorrow,” I blurted out, before I could allow fear to stop me from speaking. My brothers looked up from whatever they were looking at, clearly startled. Aiden set down the map he’d been studying. “Tom and Sarah are your foster parents, yeah?”

It was the kind of thing a child makes when they have absolutely nothing else to give. My hands flew up to cover my mouth, stifling the ragged gasp that tried to tear out of my throat. The foster home. The memories rushed back. I had been eight years old. St. Jude’s Home. Tommy. I remembered how I had refused to respect his space. Because I always had seen a boy who was entirely, completely alone in the dark. I had spent three days braiding that cheap, scratchy embroidery thread. I had walked right up to him, ignoring the way he glared at me, and shoved it into his hands.

Foster didn't even look at the menu and said, "Just follow her lead." Hannah looked up at him and scoffed, "Copycat!" Foster lowered his head and washed the fork, his slender fingers resting on it, even making the fork on his cheek appear more noble. Realizing what she was looking at, Hannah forced herself to look away. She took out her phone and wanted to vent about this matter with Jessica and the others. Just as she typed a few words, she suddenly remembered that Jessica and the others didn't know about Foster's situation. She had no choice but to delete the words she had typed, and then she opened I*******m to see those glamorous fake socialites posting heavily edited photos that were un