a-sentimental-man

One time I was playing the sims and I wanted to make me and mike but I wanted to make us separately and have us meet. But when I moved into my house, I had this sexy ass neighbor. I figured I could have a fling with him and break it off and get with Mike later but then the neighbors kid got attached to me and I couldn’t just end it when I was so close to his daughter. I really cared about him too.

So the only thing I could do was have it end in tragedy. That way I wouldn’t have to break up with the guy and I could adopt his daughter to stay close to her. He passed away peacefully on fire in the kitchen. Now in previous games, when a kid is taken away by CPS, the next kid you adopt is the same kid. Welp that didn’t carry over into sims 4 so the daughter ended up being taken away and erased from the game by the great sims deity.

I’m a sentimental man, so I kept neighbor mans tombstone around. I’d occasionally chat with his ghost, but he seemed cold to me. I can’t help but thinking he was a bit mad his daughter no longer existed. But this escalated once I started seeing Mike. His ethereal visits became more frequent and more hostile, usually breaking my electronics or creating a mess. But he went overboard when he started the fire.

Being a sim the died in a fire, his ghost had certain abilities specific to his death (setting fires). He got pissed because I kissed Mike so he set my couch on fire that ended up barricading us in the bedroom. Now I couldn’t find the fire alarm in buy mode and I hadn’t had the foresight to predict my spiteful ghost died-in-a-fire ex boyfriend would be an afterlife arsonist to care about it that much so a lot of the house had burned by the time I could get the FD there.

After having almost nothing covered by insurance (thanks Obama), Mike sat me down to have a talk with me. While I couldn’t understand him, I imagine he said “What the fuck you need to deal with your crazy ass ex boyfriend ghost. This never would have happened if you weren’t a thirst little sim bitch and dated me first.”

I approached the grave. It was time to release him. He was waiting for me. He knew this was the end. That after this, there was no coming back from the afterlife. I know he tried to kill me, and he knows I got his daughter deleted, but at that moment, it was just like old times. Telling each other jokes 27 times in a row until he would have sex with me.

We had a final ghostly embrace and he was gone. I sold his tombstone for 300 bucks and bought a microwave.

Excuses 💐

A/N: This is a part II of Braids. Please please please read that first so you may understand the intimacy of their close friendship. I really hope you all like it - please send me your feedback here. Thank you, love you, and happy reading :)

Harry doesn’t remember the last time he felt this giddy.

He thinks it was the time you had finally agreed to see him perform, and he had found a bouquet of flowers in his dressing room with a small card that read “If you were a flower, you’d be a damndelion”. There was no signature on the card, but he immediately recognized your scribbled handwriting. He had worn a grin for the rest of the night, feeling utterly enamoured by your silent act of kindness, wondering how someone with that much heart fell into his crazy life.

Now that he was thinking about it, he had always been showered by your good nature. It was what had attracted him to you in the first place. Your gentle personality had the ability to touch others in a way that made them feel like the most important person on the earth. And now that Harry’s watched your kindness spread through the hearts of the ones he loved most, he promised himself to finally be honest with you … even if it meant crossing the blurred lines of your close friendship.  

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tropes i’m really fucking tired of:

-fat character really loves food (more than the norm, everyone else eats normally-did i mention they’re a disgusting mess while eating?)

-black sidekick/companion who is actually very likeable (much more so than the protagonist), but whose characterization is lacking/underdeveloped

-loud and wild (heavily coded autistic/adhd/etc) characters that everyone treats as annoying/a joke

-strong woman protagonist that has expressed the “don’t need no man” sentiment, but still somehow ends up with a man

Wicked Lyric Meme
  • "Isn't it nice to know that good will conquer evil?"
  • "No one mourns the wicked."
  • "The good man scorns the wicked."
  • "Goodness knows, the wickeds lives are only."
  • "Goodness knows, the wicked die alone."
  • "Are people born wicked? Or do they have wickedness thrust upon them?"
  • "Have another drink, my dark eyed beauty."
  • "Woe to those who spurn what goodness they are shown."
  • "Many years I have waited for a gift like yours to appear."
  • "My future is unlimited."
  • "What is this feeling so sudden and new?"
  • "Let's just say, I loathe it all."
  • "Every little trait, however small, makes my very flesh begin to crawl."
  • "There's a strange exhilaration in such total detestation."
  • "I will be loathing you my whole life long."
  • "These things are sent to try us."
  • "The trouble with school is they always try to teach the wrong lesson."
  • "Life's more painless for the brainless."
  • "It's just life, so keep dancing through."
  • "Life is fraughtless for the thoughtless."
  • "Those who don't try never look foolish."
  • "I hope you'll save at least one dance for me. I'll be right there. Waiting. All night."
  • "It's clear we deserve each other."
  • "Finally for this one night, I'm about to have a fun night."
  • "Black is this year's pink."
  • "I've got something to confess. A reason, well, why I asked you here tonight."
  • "We deserve each other. Don't we?"
  • "I've decided to make you my new project."
  • "When someone needs a makeover, I simply have to take over."
  • "You're gonna be popular!"
  • "I'll teach you the proper ploys when you talk to boys, little ways to flirt and flounce."
  • "I'll help you be popular!"
  • "Don't be offended by my frank analysis, think of it as personality dialysis."
  • "Did they have brains or knowledge? Don't make me laugh!"
  • "It's not about aptitude, its the way you're viewed."
  • "He could be that boy, but I'm not that girl."
  • "Don't dream too far."
  • "Don't lose sight of who you are."
  • "Wishing only wounds the heart."
  • "One short day full of so much to do."
  • "I think we've found the place where we belong."
  • "One short day to have a lifetime of fun."
  • "I am a sentimental man who's always longed to be a father."
  • "I think everyone deserves the chance to fly."
  • "Why couldn't you have stayed calm for once instead of flying off the handle!"
  • "I hope you're happy how you hurt your cause forever."
  • "I hope you're proud how you would grovel in submission to feed your own ambition."
  • "I don't want it- no- I can't want it anymore."
  • "Something has changed within me. Something is not the same."
  • "I'm through with playing by the rules of someone else's game."
  • "It's time to try defying gravity."
  • "Can't I make you understand youre having delusions of grandeur?"
  • "I'm through accepting limits cuz someone says they're so."
  • "Some things I cannot change but til I try, I'll never know."
  • "If that's love it comes at much too high a cost."
  • "I really hope you get it and you don't live to regret it."
  • "If in flying solo, at least I'm flying free."
  • "Happy is what happens when all your dreams come true."
  • "People are so empty headed, they'll believe anything."
  • "I can't harbor a fugitive. I'm an elected official."
  • "There isn't a spell for everything."
  • "Finally from these powers, something good."
  • "Surely now I'll matter less to you. You won't mind my leaving here tonight."
  • "I've got to go appeal to her. Express the way I feel for her."
  • "You're going to lose your heart to me, I tell you."
  • "I never asked for this or planned it in advance."
  • "If you insist I will be wonderful."
  • "Where I'm from we believe all sorts of things that aren't true. We call it history."
  • "A rich man's a thief or a philanthropist."
  • "Is one a crusader or a ruthless invader?"
  • "It's all in which label is able to persist."
  • "I need help believing you're with me tonight."
  • "My wildest dreamings could not foresee lying beside you with you wanting me."
  • "I'll make every last moment last as long as you're mine."
  • "Maybe I'm brainless, maybe I'm wise, but you've got me seeing through different eyes."
  • "Somehow I've fallen under your spell."
  • "Say there's no future for us as a pair."
  • "Know I'll be here holding you as long as you're mine."
  • "It's just...for the first time, I feel wicked."
  • "Let his flesh not be torn."
  • "Let his blood leave no stain."
  • "Let him never die."
  • "You're the latest victim of my greatest achievment in a long career of distress."
  • "No good deed goes unpunished. That's my new creed."
  • "Was I really seeking good or just seeking attention?"
  • "No good deed will I do again!"
  • "Wickedness must be punished. Evil effectively eliminated."
  • "I've heard it said that people come into our lives for a reason, bringing something we must learn."
  • "We are led to those who help us most to grow if we let them."
  • "I know I'm wrong am today because I knew you."
  • "Who can say if I've been changed for the better."
  • "Because I knew you, I have been changed for good."
  • "So much of me is made of what I learned from you."
  • "I ask forgiveness for the things I've done you blame me for."

One of the saddest things for me is the fact, that despite Narcissa‘s faith that Snape’s regard for her son is enough to vow to kill Dumbledore, of all people, Draco himself rejects Snape’s help. He doesn’t trust Snape to have his best interest, not steal his glory. Considering the lengths Snape has to go to protect Draco’s innocence, and the fact that Snape is Malfoy’s mentor and Draco is ultimately one of his charges - that must’ve stung. I don’t always consider Snape to be a sentimental man, even in private, but I think the situation frustrated him to no end. I mean, this is his friend’s son. They’re, supposedly, on one side. And he just hits the wall full stop. 

anonymous asked:

20 and 12 for mreyder :3

Things you said that I wasn’t meant to hear

Reyes never slept much, that was just how things were. There was always so much to do, so many things requiring his immediate and undivided attention that being dead to the world for more than a bare minimum of hours seemed like a horrible waste of time. His body was so used to this ascetic regime that even on his rare days off he simply couldn’t force himself to sleep in. At the break of dawn, or whatever equivalent it had in deep space, he laid wide awake staring at the quarters’ ceiling, no trace of drowsiness lingering in his mind.

That had its perks though. Reyes turned his head to the right, a fond smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Unlike him, Scott had zero problems with sleeping – he slept, one can even say, with enthusiasm, mouth parted and drooling obliviously at his pillow.

Lo and behold the mighty Pathfinder.

The thought that he was the only one privileged enough to see Scott like this, so vulnerable, unkempt, almost childlike warmed Reyes’s heart to a degree he did not anticipate. The things that man did to him, unbelievable…

A month or so had passed since the Charlatan’s coup d'état in Kadara Port and it was only Reyes’s second night he got to spend on the Tempest. But things were looking good on all fronts, more than Reyes dared to expect even in his most optimistic prognoses. He had been preparing himself mentally that Scott – Scott the paragon of virtue who flew across the galaxy helping people – would reject him as soon as he’d learn the whole truth, of all the shady and questionable things he had done. But no. Scott understood that things were rarely black and white, Scott accepted him for who he was, good and bad. Reyes knew that he was a lucky man to have found someone like Scott. He didn’t deserve him, not by a long shot.

Reyes felt the overwhelming urge to wrap his arms around his lover. Not being the one to refuse himself much, he shifted closer to Scott, his hand resting on his shoulder blade, his lips pressing to his forehead.

Scott stirred, sighing softly. A warm, boneless mass against Reyes’s chest. Barely lucid, he instinctively reached out for his lover, his fingers curling on the tawny hip. Scott didn’t open his eyes yet. Maybe that was for the best – he couldn’t see the embarrassingly mushy expression on Reyes’s face.

“Rey…?” he mumbled, his lips tickling Reyes’s neck as he spoke.

“Yes?” He carded his hand through the mess of hair on Scott’s head, massaging his scalp gently. Scott liked that, the tender motion always seemed to soothe him. It worked like magic even now, making the Pathfinder sigh again with contentment.

“…fee…”

“What?”  

“…coffee…”

“Coffee?” Reyes echoed with amusement. “You want some?”

“…mhm…”

“As you wish.” Reyes chuckled, nuzzling against his cheek. “One coffee coming right up.”

A languid smile curved Scott’s lips.

“Love you,” he said, warm glints of affection flickering in his half-opened, heavy-lidded eyes, still clouded with remnants of whatever dream he was having.

The sight completely melted Reyes’s heart. Smiling like a fool, he kissed Scott’s temple, the corner of his eye, his cheek before finally letting their lips meet in a surprisingly chaste union, almost an antithesis of the lustful kisses they shared in the evening.

“Be right back,” Reyes said, stroking Scott’s chest before finally sliding away from his lover towards the edge of the bed. He let his bare feet fall onto the cold floor and then stood up, stretching his stiff muscles. Although the temperature on the Tempest was optimal for humans and other humanoid species, it still felt chilly against his naked skin, warmed so perfectly by Scott’s pliant body. He missed it already.

No, his thoughts shouldn’t wander off in that direction or he’d just dive in straight back to bed and never leave.

With an inward sigh, he located his pants under a chair, thrown there haphazardly the night before. He picked them up, aware of Scott’s gaze on him.

“Enjoying the view?” he asked, turning to his lover. Just as expected, Scott, still not fully awake, observed him with a relaxed smile playing on his lips.

“Mhm.”

Reyes shook his head and put the pants on.

“I expect something in return for that coffee. I am, after all, a greedy man.”

“I know… a kiss then?”

“Not good enough.”

“Two?”

“At least five.”

“Four and a half,” Scott said with mock sternness. “Final offer.”

Reyes laughed, feeling another burst of sentiment towards that impossible man.

“Deal. You drive a hard bargain.”

“Been taught by the best.”

They exchanged telling glances and smiles like true partners in crime.

This relationship shouldn’t have worked, all evidence and premises pointed to its inevitable destruction. How could love bloom freely between the human Pathfinder, a symbol of hope for the whole of Andromeda, and the Charlatan, the head of a criminal organization ruling over Kadara Port? But somehow it did, against all odds.

“Incredible.”

“Hm?”

“The coffee I’m going to prepare for you,” said Reyes smoothly, giving his lover his signature wink.

Hearing Scott chuckle, Reyes walked across the room to the door. He hesitated before pressing the button though. His current looks were hardly… presentable. Wearing only his pants, with disheveled hair and enough love bites on his skin not to leave much to imagination what he and Scott were doing the night before, he was bound to scandalize the crew, who didn’t have a very high opinion on him in the first place.

Oh well, it was still early, surely no one would be up at this ungodly hour, he thought punching the door open.

As soon as he stepped into the kitchen, he understood how wrong he was. Jaal and Liam were sitting at the table, empty bottle of wine in front of them, and chatting about something animatedly. At least until they spotted Reyes. The atmosphere then soured at once. Both the angara and the human gave him unfriendly stink eyes reserved perhaps for something filthy that stuck to the sole of your shoe.

Well then, an excellent start.

“Morning,” Reyes said in a neutral tone as if he hadn’t noticed the icy cold reception. They didn’t reply. It didn’t bother him too much though. Tons of people hated him, that was basically in the job description. Two more didn’t make too much of a difference, he was used to it.

Unperturbed, he opened the cupboard and took out Scott’s favorite mug – the one with the Brave Heart Lion from the old Care Bears cartoon. What a nerd. Reyes caught himself smiling like a goofball as he started the coffee machine. Scott’s blend of choice contained more milk, caramel syrup and sugar than the coffee itself, he knew that by now. Sweet drink for a sweet boy.

God, he couldn’t believe he had just thought something that cheesy. Scott brought out the worst sap out of him. And Reyes wasn’t entirely sure if he minded that.

Reyes was so caught up in his own musings that he had nearly forgotten that he wasn’t alone in the kitchen. A grunt full of disapproval and even more disapproving words reminded him of that quite successfully.

“I don’t like you,” announced Jaal.

It was hard not to laugh, but Reyes managed to keep a straight face.

“And here I thought we can make s’mores and sing kumbaya together.”

“I don’t understand what you are referring to, but we will certainly not do that.”

“Well, here go my weekend plans…”

“Listen, smartass,” Liam chimed in, openly hostile. “You’re not welcome on this ship.“

“No, really? I can’t believe it, everyone’s so nice to me,“ Reyes deadpanned, casting a brief, almost bored glance at the man. This indifferent reaction only infuriated Liam even more.

“It’s a disgrace that you’re here,“ Liam slurred, the alcohol making him more open with his resentment. “You’re a bloody exile and a criminal, you should be in prison.“

Reyes felt the anger rushing in his veins, but he bit back the reply, not showing that the words had phased him in any way. There was no point trying to engage in a conversation with any of them. All he had to do was to wait until the machine spat out the fancy coffee for Scott and he’d be out of here in a blink of an eye.

But Liam wasn’t done yet, not even close. He scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Honestly, Scott must be a bigger idiot than we thought to trust you.“

It was as if a thunderbolt hit him straight in the chest. He spun around to face them, his muscles tensed and ready for a fight.

“Leave him out of this,“ he snarled, making Liam and Jaal stare at him with surprise and maybe with fear too. “You don’t like me and insulting me is your new hobby? Fine, I’ve heard worse. But don’t you fucking dare talk shit about Scott.“

“Yeah, as if you care about him,“ Liam said with scorn. “You’re just using him for his connections, we all know that. Only Scott is too naive to see that.“

Reyes narrowed his eyes, seething and truly wounded. It… well, it was a painful thing to hear. If the crew thought that about him, could Scott be swayed too one day?

“We’re watching you. When you hurt him we will eject you into space.“ Jaal wasn’t joking. “With pleasure.“

Reyes grit his teeth, clenched his fists. They went too far. Implying that he was here to hurt Scott? No, he couldn’t stand for it, he wouldn’t.

“Same applies to you,“ he said, his voice sharp like a blade of a knife.

“What?“ Liam replied, puzzled. Reyes smiled, but that smile had no humor in it. It was a warning.

“You’re all so self-righteous, looking down and passing judgment, and yet you seem to forget who I really am. I’m not just some smuggler nobody. I’m the Charlatan. If any of you just as much as look at Scott in a funny way, you’ll have the wrath of the whole Collective on your asses. Just so we’re clear, it’s a two way alley. You may keep an eye on me, but I’m keeping mine on you just as much. Hurt him and you’ll die. Painfully.“

A soft ding cut through the silence that enveloped the room – the coffee was ready. Reyes took the mug and walked out of the room, not deigning Liam and Jaal with even a passing glance. He didn’t have to, he knew they were both staring at him in stunned silence.

* * *

Hearing the sound the machine made, Scott backed away slowly, returning to his room. His heart raced in his chest. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but he got bored waiting and decided to join his boyfriend in the kitchen. But what he heard… Reyes’s words resounded with devotion, care and power. Scott was slightly frightened. And touched. And turned on, all at once.

He needed to have a serious talk with his crew though.

Scott kicked off his pants and slipped under the sheets again as if he had never left. Reyes walked in a moment later, a steaming mug in his hands.

Scott looked closely at his lover’s face, trying to read his thoughts on what had happened in the kitchen. Reyes was so good at clamming up, at hiding his emotions, burring them deep beneath the surface of a suave charmer. But Scott couldn’t be fooled. He saw the hurt in his lover’s eyes, despite his efforts to smile.  

“Here you are. One coffee, just as requested,“ Reyes said, sitting at the edge of the bed. Scott sat up as well, taking the mug carefully. The smell told him that Reyes remembered how he liked to take his drink. That was really sweet.

“Thank you.“ Scott hesitated, unsure if he should do it. But he felt like he must. He put the mug away on the nightstand. Reyes looked at him quizzically, thousands of thoughts probably running through his head.

“I love you,“ Scott said, pouring his heart into these words, his hand reaching to Reyes’s cheek. “And nothing and no one can change that. I… I just wanted you to know that,“ he added, a little embarrassed.

But Reyes looked at him with nothing but adoration, his eyes lively and bright again.

“Thank you, Scott. I needed to hear that.“ His words were soft, just as his lips when he gave him a kiss. And then another, locking him in a warm embrace.

The coffee stood on the nightstand completely forgotten.


If you liked this ficlet please consider buying me a coffee (coffee ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ). Any donations are greatly appreciated,

wicked songs: a summary
  • no one mourns the wicked: your un-problematic fave was murdered
  • dear old shiz: college frick yeah
  • the wizard and i: the let-me-belt-in-your-face song
  • what is the feeling?: lesbians or worst enemies? the world may never know
  • something bad: environmentalists be like
  • dancing through life: fuck school
  • popular: what not to wear the musical
  • i'm not that girl: fuck blonde white girls
  • one short day: lesbian vacations
  • a sentimental man: never trust old straight white men
  • defying gravity: the let-me-belt-in-your-face song pt. 2
  • thank goodness: weddings can't hide depression
  • wonderful: what did i say about not trusting old straight white men?
  • i'm not that girl: fuck beautiful green girls
  • as long as you're mine: sexy time in the forest
  • no good deed: fiyEEEROOOOOOOOOOOOOO
  • march of the witch hunters: obligatory wizard of oz references
  • for good: lesbians, definitely lesbians
  • finale: gross sobbing
Glimpses III

Another moment in the “Imperial Problem Child” series

3. Match

The circumstances of the Princess’s capture had seemed off to him from the beginning. Although there was every indication that the operation on Sy Myrth had been established some months ago, and the Rebels had fought violently to defend it, the end of the battle had seemed suspicious. The moment the Princess was captured, the Rebels turned tail and fled, abandoning the Sy Myrth base.
Odd. And not in keeping with previous experiences. There weren’t even any parting shots as the Rebels retreated.

More curious than anything else, Grand Admiral Thrawn had the Princess brought to his office. Her expression was calm, her posture relaxed, but her eyes were calculating. 

“Grand Admiral,” she said with a polite dip of her head. “I see that the rumors of your great love of art are not in the slightest bit exaggerated.”

“Princess Organa,” Thrawn made a courteous half bow and smiled thinly. “You have taken a risk, haven’t you?”
The human woman had an impressive sabaac face, to be sure, but there was a slight tightening at the corners of her eyes. Yes, he’d interpreted her posture correctly: she was exactly where she wanted to be. The operation on the planet below must have been a sham. A clever one, at that. Thrawn couldn’t help but be slightly impressed by that.

“Considering reports place your intelligence somewhat higher than the usual Imperial, Grand Admiral Mitth’raw’nuruodo, I decided that a little risk was necessary in order to gauge for myself whether you’ve the common sense to go with that intelligence,” Princess Leia indulged a gentle smile and folded her hands calmly.

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Pharmercy Appreciation Week: Day 6 - Wedding

I have to go back and do days 4 and 5 because this weekend was much busier than I anticipated … but here’s day 6. :’)

Summary: Lena and Emily get married; Angela asks Fareeha to be her date.

@pharmercyappreciationweek



Lena announces her wedding date a year before it happens. She and Emily are ecstatic, in love, totally and completely happy. Angela’s happy for them, too. Happier still when she goes to the bachelorette party a month out (both of them) - ridiculously happy to drag a drunken Farreha home after one, and then to have been escorted home drunkenly at the other by the same woman.

A week out and Emily calls her to go to lunch and Angela accepts willingly. Sitting across from the red head, sipping coffee after her meal Emily finally leans forward and, looking almost too serious says:

“So have you asked Fareeha to be your date yet?”

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anonymous asked:

20. Dark/jack :)

20. “You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.”

[This is totally a larger verse I may expand on someday. I really like it.]

He looks like he’s sleeping.

Still. Calm. Quiet. All thinks Jack isn’t normally.

It’s a dangerous game, being in this stupid tower where he sleeps. Especially with the place so heavily guarded.

Dark supposes that makes sense for the cursed prince.

He had met the boy only months ago, probably skirting around closer to a year. Initially, he’d been fucking around with him, knowing him to be some noble’s son or higher up–he’d been too round in the cheeks, his hands too soft for the commoner, and he had stumbled over his name, Jack, like it wasn’t quite the truth.

Dark had taken him to far parts of the city, through street markets and gardens, watching the way his eyes ignited in mirth, enamored by the colors and ways of the city life. He’d always gotten the impression Jack was sheltered, and upon figuring out he was the youngest prince of the McLoughlin family, that explained a lot.

But he couldn’t stay away. The stakes immeasurably raised, he snuck into the palace towers, stealing Sean McLoughlin away for tavern dances and 3AM swims. Jack had never done these sort of things before, his family keeping him under tight lock and key, for fear of a spell cast upon him.

If he pricked his finger on a rose, he would fall into a deep sleep, never to wake up, never to see the light of day again.

Amazingly, it hadn’t been their trysts that put Jack to sleep, but the King’s own folly, allowing flowers into his birthday celebration.

He’s been asleep for three months now, and Dark’s ransacked every library in the nine kingdoms to find a cure.

In the still of the night, Dark sits on the edge of the bed, grasping Jack’s hand gently. It’s cold, colder than it should be, and he raises the fingers to his lips, still as soft and small as ever.

He misses him. He misses him so fucking much.

“You need to wake up,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.”

Jack makes no movement or noise, and Dark isn’t surprised.

There isn’t a cure for a sleeping curse. No potion or herb or powerful mage will lift it from his body. He’s doomed to sleep forever, unless…

In his travels, Dark had met a young man, short and cropped hair as blue as the sky. He had a twinkling smile to him, knowing Dark’s question before he had even asked.

“The only way to lift a sleeping curse,” he had said, “is to bestow true love’s kiss.”

“How the hell does that help me?” Dark had fired back. “He doesn’t love anyone.”

The young mage had given him a soft, unreadable look. “The prince’s love lies within the person he would uproot his entire life for.”

Jack doesn’t love him. He can’t love him. Dark’s a criminal, for heaven’s sake. They would kill him on sight for consorting with the prince the way he has.

Gripping Jack’s wrist gently, Dark watches the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, wanting more than anything for those blue eyes to open.

“Please,” Dark whispers, and the words are sticky in his mouth. “Wake up, Jack. Wake up.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Dark leans over his sleeping form, and kisses him gently.

A beat. Dark hadn’t even realized he’d closed his eyes, and when he opens them, blue eyes stare back.

“Dark?” Jack’s voice slurs, groggy and stiff. “What’s…going on?”

Dark’s never been a sentimental man, but he’s damn near sure he could have ripped his heart out of his chest in joy.

“Welcome back,” he murmurs, and shaking, he kisses him again. “Welcome back, Sean.”

Just Let Me Sleep (Peter Quill x reader)

Request:  flamethrower45 said:Hi!!! Ily so much!!!!!!!!!! And I like freaked out when I saw requests were open!! Could you please do a guardians of the galaxy Peter x reader where they find her in a coma and Peter recognized her from when he was on earth and lots of angst and stuff?!?! Please?!?!? THANK YOU SO MUCH, YOU’RE LIKE MY FAVORITE WRITER, SO STAY BEAUTIFUL!!!!! And remember to watch your language XD

“What’s your name?”

“Peter.  What’s your name?”

“(Y/N).  Why are you here?”

“My mom’s sick, so we’re here to see her.”

You sat next to the boy who looked close to the same age as you, playing games and talking, waiting for hours for either one of you to get word from your families that it was time to go.  Peter’s was called away first, and was gone for a long time before you saw him again, running out the front doors of the building and into the parking lot.

“Are you okay?” you called out to him as you followed.

“Leave me alone,” he whispered between his tears.  “Just…I want to be alone, (Y/N).”

“Sure, Peter.  It’s gonna be okay.”  You didn’t know for certain what had happened, but you hoped that it really would be okay for him.  Before you reached the doors to go back in, a bright light illuminated behind you; by the time you turned around, your new friend was gone.  You took a few steps towards where he had been, and the light returned, this time flooding over you.

~~~

Peter grabbed the cassette and slipped it into the stereo, pushing the play button and feeling ready to dance.

Nothing happened.

“What the…?”  He felt a rush of panic, pressing more buttons, taking the tape out and inspecting it, returning it to the player and trying again. Still nothing.

“No, no, no, no, this can’t happen!” he yelled, quickly getting the attention of his teammates. “You guys, this can’t happen!”

“SHUT UP!  I’m trying to sleep over here!”

“Good!  Finally an end to that insufferable noise once and for all.”

Quill looked back at the group with shock, holding his hand to his chest, clearly hurt.  “I thought you guys liked it!”  He stood quickly and pointed harshly at Gamora, “I saw you dancing just yesterday!”

“You have no proof,” she groaned and rolled back over in her bunk.  

Peter turned back to his stereo, his face covered in sadness and disbelief.  He sighed when a large hand rested on his shoulder, putting his own over it to accept the sentiment.  “Thanks, man.”

“I am Groot.”

“Yeah,” he whispered, “me too, pal.  Me too.”

~~~

As Peter wandered around the shop in the middle of nowhere, he was disheartened by the lack of anything that could help him fix his stereo.  The shelves and broken down tables were filled with various pieces of space junk and items tagged as ‘vintage’ to attract buyers, when really they were just old garbage.  He haphazardly tossed the worthless items around as he searched, beginning to feel like he would never find what he needed.

“Come on, man, it’ll be okay,” Rocket said, moving alongside him.  “Maybe it’s time to move on.  It’s a sign.” He jumped up on the table when an item caught his eye, but quickly returned to the floor when he found it to be junk.  “It’s a sign that it was a piece of garbage to start with,” he whispered under his breath.

“That’s not the attitude I need right now, alright?  Would it kill ya to be supportive in my time of need?”  Peter moved towards the back of the old shop, all but defeated now.  “I’m never gonna find what I need here,” he groaned. He was about to turn around and gather everyone to leave when something caught his eye.  He walked up to the old cryogenic tube and pulled away the scrap of dusty cloth that covered it.

“No way,” he gasped, “there’s no way…”

“What is this?”  Drax approached from behind, walking around the tube, tapping his hand on the cover and wiping the dust away from the control panel.  “How will this help you to fix your music player?”

“Um,” Peter said in a quiet voice, “well, it won’t.  But I…I think I know this girl.”  His expression saddened as he stared at you, still in disbelief that you could be the friend he had made so many years ago and so far away.

Quill grabbed the price tag hanging from the side of the tube and gasped, “are you serious? There’s no way that I can afford this.”

The shopkeeper approached, seeing that the group had gathered around you.  “I see that you’ve found something of interest?”  He moved to the foot of the tube and shook his head, “just so you know, there’s no way to open this.  It was found with no instruction and I have yet to meet anyone who has seen another.  It’s nothing more than decoration.”

Peter hadn’t heard a word that the shopkeeper had said, slowly moving his hand over the window that gave him his view of you.  “I’ll take it,” he whispered.  

“But you just said-“

He put his hand up to quiet Drax, and looked to the shopkeeper, “it’s pretty heavy,” he said, attempting to lift one corner and pretending to fail, “you got anything in back that we can haul it out on?”  The man looked at Peter and Drax skeptically, but relented and made his way through the back door of the building.  

Peter grabbed the top of the tube and pointed at the other end, “alright, big man, grab that end and let’s get the hell outta here.”

“Are you serious?!” Rocket exclaimed, “you’re gonna risk it for a frozen girl that you can never wake up?  How desperate are you, Quill?”

“Just shut it and run, would ya?”

The group had just made it to the door when shots began to fire around them, the unassuming shopkeeper now in a full rage and chasing behind them.  “Get back here, you thief!  Get back here right now!”

“Maybe run a little faster guys!”

~~~

Once back aboard the ship and safely in flight, Peter sat quietly along side of you, resting his chin in his hand and absentmindedly pressing the buttons on the tube with the other.  He barely knew anything about you from the short time you had spent together, but he knew that it was the right thing to do to take you from that shop.

“Hey,” Gamora whispered, resting her hand on his arm, “you okay?”

Peter took a deep breath and sat back in his chair, still looking at you.  “Yeah, yeah I’m good.  I just don’t understand how…”

“You might never know. You need to be ready for that, Quill.”

He simply nodded as she walked away, not knowing how to respond to her.  “I wish I could play a song for you,” he whispered to you, “but just your luck, the biggest loser in the galaxy had to be the one to find you.”

Peter pulled the cassette from his pack and reached over to his stereo, hoping for a miracle.  He slid it into the machine and squeezed his eyes shut, pushing the play button down slowly.  His eyes opened quickly with delight when the music began.

“Look at that,” he said with a smile, “I guess I found what I needed after all.”

So I was reading an article on ANN today, having a fine time, entertainingly written and all. And then I hit a wall.

A wall that demanded I get my gaytective gear out for One Last Job (pardon the scan quality - I had to use my own collection). 

Because my dudes of all genders, let me tell you, they’re right. There’s no chemistry to be found in Petshop of Horrors. 

We all know, after all, that flowers around a meaningful meeting in josei? Means nothing.

A common sentiment from a man who openly hates and resents the human race, which the chapter up to this point was written around emphasizing. 

That tsundere. 

THERE IS NO BONDING OR CHEMISTRY GOING ON HERE. IGNORE IT. 

Presented without commentary. 

And certainly other characters never pick up on anything either.

From friends, to say….

…total strangers…

…domestic disputes….

IN THE MIDDLE OF A DIRE SERIES OF EVENTS

And the series ends with a separation that Leon refuses to accept, leading him to leave the law behind entirely to pursue D on his own, just for the chance of meeting him again. As though the center around which the series spins was the progress of this relationship from pure hatred to complicated obsession.

…..Sorry what was I saying? 

i want you forever (right here by my side) - chapter one

summary: “Phil Coulson. Thought you might like to know before we begin. I promise I won’t twist your arm… too hard,” he says with a smile which widens as she returns it. “Melinda May,” she responds, accepting his handshake. Her hand is small, her fingers slim, and her grip is unsurprisingly firm. “You wouldn’t dare. I’d whip your ass.” Phil Coulson and Melinda May. Their story, from the very first day. 

notes: my take on a phil/melinda origin story inspired by theories from the philinda chatroom. please let me know what you think :) thank you to @agentsphilinda for beta-ing this one for me!

songspiration: when we first met by hellogoodbye

read on AO3

The streets are still littered with red, white and blue streamers the day Phillip Coulson is born, in a small town in Manitowoc, Wisconsin. His father is a history teacher, his mother a homemaker, and he is their first and only child. He weighs eight pounds and two ounces, measures twenty inches and lets out quiet cries of protest as he is dragged into the world by a none too gentle doctor.

Phil grows up an average boy.

He is of an average height and average weight, and attends the local elementary school with all the other regular boys and girls. He plays baseball in the little leagues, does all his chores and homework and spends time with the neighbour’s children in the front yard in the afternoons, supervised by his mother who often presents him with treats as rewards for good behaviour.

His favourite in summer is her Apple pie, with a golden and flakey crust, wrapped around a piping hot filling of caramelised apple slices. It’s not too sweet and not too sour, and she always serves it with a glass of freshly squeezed lemonade; the lemons picked from a little tree in their back garden.

In winter, his parents make hot chocolate from scratch, and the family of three stay warm huddled by the fireplace, trading stories about their day.

They’re an average family, with an average house and an average life.

But the first eight years of Phil’s life are safe, and happy.


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