Star Wars Fanfiction Time Travel Mga Nobela at Kwento

On the way home during the holidays, my fiance's sister-in-law, Pamela Kensington, brings out an electric pot that requires 2,000 watts in order to function so that she can cook some meatballs. "The sockets in the electric car are meant for us to use, no? If we can't have hot food during our trips, then what's the use of having an electric car in the first place?" My fiance, Mason Vance, who is driving, doesn't bother to stop Pamela. Instead, he helps her fill up the pot with water while smiling. In my previous life, I had strictly stopped them from cooking meatballs and told them that we didn't have enough power left in the electric car. If they were to cook the meatballs, the car would stop in the middle of the journey, and we wouldn't be able to make it home. Pamela, who tagged along for the ride, thought that I refused to let her son have a piping hot meal, so she began criticizing me. Mason, on the other hand, thought that I was being too much of a busybody. He slapped me in front of everyone before pushing me out of the car. I was frozen to the bone in the blizzard as I watched everyone else leave me behind happily. In the end, I died from hypothermia. When I woke up again, I realized I'd returned to the moment when Pamela is about to plug the electric pot into the socket. This time, I hand her a power strip. "Go ahead and use this power strip. It can channel more power for your meatballs to cook quickly."

Amanda Lucifer is the archmage of Time Cross Academy - the best school for all kinds of species. She oversees the best kind of education for her students who are future heirs to their clans or countries as the principal but more importantly, Amanda has a job to keep the population growing. The grand archmage of Time Cross Academy supports love in all forms and mating season is the best season to catch romance in action. Every year, clans and countries will send their sons and daughters to Time Cross Academy with their children's application form as well as an identification certificate that includes their second gender traits. This year is no different and the archmage looks forward to greeting her new students and tying a few red threads. Hormones will fly, clans will get allied, mates will be bonded. Everything that happens at Time Cross Academy happens for a reason and nobody shall question the archmage. Let the mating season begin! Note: As this is an anthology Collection, the focus will be around the ABO theme more than the actual couple. There will be many couple pairings so feel free to skip what you don't like and put in the comments what kind of pairings you would like to see. No females in the school seeing as the setting is purely BL. Also, no entry to those below 18, there will be adult scenes. Drama seekers, toxic bitches and overly-sensitive folks who cannot chillax not welcomed. Author also has indemnity to typo, grammar mistakes and English bugs throughout the story as no proofreaders are offered. You have been warned. Proceed with caution and enjoy. *** Cover Art by Krustallos. Support me and my works one: Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/destinyaitsuji Join and stalk me on: Discord: https://discord.gg/UrtDMXn

What could possibly be describe as your worst nightmare?. I will tell you, my worst nightmare could be describe as seeing my boyfriend and my twin sister... 'Together' in prom. It was supposed to be the most beautiful day of my life, kelvin had told me he had a surprised planned out. I did get my surprise, but it wasn't the kind of surprise I was expecting. Till this very day, I have terrible scary dream of that night. It could be tagged as a nightmare. Well.. now I'm a full grown lady, when I mean full. I mean really fat. You see, this is the difference between my sister and I. She's the pretty one, and I am.. I'm the ugly fat one. Ever since I was a child, everyone has favoured her much more than me. Even my parents loves her more than me . It sucks, I know. Just when I thought I would be living a really boring and unloved life, I met Jason. He is handsome, He is chivalrous, and has this funny charming character. And the last of his quality, he has his own company. He is a freaking Billionaire. At first, I wasn't quite taking by jason.. so I gave him the cold shoulder's. But Jason wasn't the kind of man to give up. To him, I was another business opportunity that he needs to get at all cost. I guess because he saw it that way, that was why he was very committed. I did end up falling him, we got married really quickly. And then, I thought that I have found my life long partner. But unknown to me, Jason had a secret, a secret that shouldn't get out in the open. To hide this secret, jason got married to me. This time, the dream's on me!

On our Christmas break road trip, my cousin Felix Lloyd spotted some high-powered speakers at a highway rest stop. He had to have them—said he wanted to "blast it." "It's Christmas. We finally get to see everyone! We need some vibe!" My wife, Lana Ramsey, smiled and helped him pay. "Young people have energy. They know how to enjoy life." I yanked the power cord out. "Those aren't for regular cars. This is an EV. Overload it, and the whole system fries. Then what—just stuck in the middle of nowhere?" Lana's parents, Vincent and Donelia, booed me, calling me a buzzkill. Felix cranked the volume all the way up. Lana glared at me. "Say one more word and get out. I'll drive." Later, the speakers fried the battery system. We were stranded in total darkness on a rough mountain road. They finished the last of the food, then shoved me out to "go find help." I slipped, rolled down the slope, and died. When I opened my eyes, I was back—right when Felix jammed the speaker plug into the charging port. I grabbed a few more subwoofers and handed them over. "One isn't enough. Add more. That's how you really crank it."

On my 22nd birthday, my uncle Scott discovered my diary. After he found out about my secret love for him, he sent me overseas. He then spent hundreds of thousands, marrying the love of his life.

At twenty-eight, I held the dubious honor of being the last unmarried socialite on New York's Upper East Side. Everyone around me was growing increasingly anxious about my single status. In my previous life, my mother arranged a matchmaking cocktail party, where I was told to choose a husband from ten handpicked elite bachelors. I bribed the event planner to place Mark West's profile at the very top—and as I had hoped, I chose him. After we married, Mark treated me with what seemed like tender affection. He even bought me an oceanfront villa in the Hamptons, making me believe I had finally found true love. But that illusion shattered the day I was nine months pregnant, just hours away from giving birth. Mark drove a scalpel straight into my abdomen—then, right in front of me, hurled our newborn onto the floor. "If you hadn't forced me into this marriage with your family's power, Sofia wouldn't have been heartbroken enough to go drinking and get drugged and assaulted. This… this is what you owe her!" He tossed the scalpel aside, then calmly let his private doctor pin down my blood-soaked body. I fought through excruciating pain for six agonizing hours, until I finally bled to death. Afterward, Mark dumped my corpse into the Hudson River. But for Sofia, he hosted a grand funeral—funded with my money, under my name—and paraded himself to the world as a grieving, devoted widower. Given a second chance at life, I refused to step foot in that cursed matchmaking event. Instead, I went straight to my mother with a demand: marry me to Robert Black—the most ruthless, cold-blooded titan of Wall Street, whose scarred face was feared by all. In the end, stripped of my financial backing, Mark's hedge fund collapsed. He became a disgraced fraudster, spat on by everyone on Wall Street.

My wife, Ariel Sweeney, would always buy me a new watch every time she cheated on me. We'd been married for four years, and I'd already collected 99 watches. That also meant I'd forgiven her 99 times too. This time, she went on a business trip for three days, and returned with a Patek Philippe watch worth ten million dollars for me. I then knew that it was time we got a divorce.

After Ryan Spencer cheated on me again with his secretary, I completely lost it. When my mind started to spiral, I grabbed the fruit knife off the table. I just wanted it to end. “Why are you hurting yourself again? He doesn’t love you anymore?” I looked up. The sixteen-year-old Ryan was walking toward me, heartbreak written all over his face. His voice was gentle. “Tell me who he is. I’ll make him pay.” I stared into the bright, earnest eyes of the boy standing in front of me. I didn’t say a word. I simply lifted my hand and pointed at his face. Later, Ryan was the one who had me admitted to a psychiatric hospital. When the sedative began to wear off, the teenage boy appeared again, sitting by my bed. He stared at the man outside who looked just like him. The light in his eyes faded little by little. Then he spoke, his voice strained. “I don’t care who he is. I’ll kill him.” The sixteen-year-old Ryan never lied to me. When he said something, he meant it.

Rule number one: Do not kiss strange men in clubs. Rule number two: Never kiss the owner of the club. Rule number three: If he’s a secret billionaire with a dark past and a disturbing obsession with your heartbeat? Run. My name is Scarlett Whitmore. And I broke all three. I was born with a heart condition called Mitral Valve Prolapse. My mother hates me for ruining her life. My brother cannot stand me. And my boyfriend, Drake Bittencourt, the man I thought was the love of my life, proposed to my twin sister in front of 19,000 hockey fans. And she accepted him without hesitation. When my sister walks into the club I work at, flaunting Drake’s ring without remorse, I make a rash decision: I grab the first man that catches my fancy and kiss him like my life depends on it. He turns out to be Harlan Rousseau. Team captain of the formidable Vancouver Icefangs. Hockey god. And according to the tabloids, dead broke and drowning in debt. But the tabloids are wrong. Not only is Harlan Rousseau NOT broke, he’s the secret heir to a ninety- billion-dollar oil empire. He offers me a deal: wear his ring. play the devoted wife. And sleep in his bed for a year. In exchange, he’ll pay off my medical debt and save my best friend from homelessness. The most important of all: he offers a chance to get my revenge. I should’ve said no. But I was desperate. And desperate women make deals with the devil. The longer I stay, the more I realize Harlan Rousseau is not just hiding wealth. He’s hiding a monster. And I’m starting to think I don’t want to run from it…

"When Mandy marries billionaire Lucas Vanderbilt, she thinks she's found her happily ever after. But their lavish lifestyle and fairy-tale romance come crashing down when a tragic accident sparks false allegations and shattered trust. As Lucas turns against her, Mandy's world collapses. His grandmother, the formidable matriarch of the Vanderbilt empire, offers her a way out: escape to a new life abroad. But Mandy's heart refuses to let go. She's determined to clear her name and reclaim her love. Will she overcome the darkness of deceit and betrayal, or will the price of love be too high to pay?