i can't stand the sight of you

Super Angsty Starters
  • "You...did this?"
  • "I can't believe you."
  • "You can hate me, you can dislike me but how can you cheat on me?"
  • "I'm dying..."
  • "She/He still loves you."
  • "I just want to go home..."
  • "You left me..."
  • "I can't forgive you for this anymore."
  • "I'm saying goodbye."
  • "I'm not good enough for you."
  • "This is goodbye."
  • "Was this just a game to you?"
  • "You merely played me like a fool."
  • "Goodbye."
  • "You're pathetic."
  • "Get out of my sight."
  • "You're nothing but a toy in a game of life."
  • "You used me?"
  • "You're so easy to manipulate."
  • "I never loved you."
  • "Don't give me that look."
  • "I can't stand you."
  • "Goodbye...my almost lover."
  • "I would have loved you."
  • "Everything fell apart and I can't pick up the pieces anymore."
  • "I think this is where I should say goodbye."
  • "We never had it all."
  • "...Everything hurts."
  • "Go away!"
  • "I don't want to see you anymore!"
  • "Let me go."
  • "To think I almost loved you."
  • "You cheated..?"
  • "You love someone else other than me anyway."
  • "Why do you even bother with me anymore?"
  • "I'm not worth your time."
  • "Get out of here."
  • "Get away from me!"
  • "Don't touch me every again!"
  • "I hate you."
  • "Don't leave me."
  • "Please, I'll do anything!"
  • "Don't go..."
  • "We can talk about this!"
  • "I can't loose you again."
  • "Don't you have more important things to attend to?"

DannyMay Day Two: Fire/Ice

…Danny was in a particularly good mood today. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and the Box Ghost was safely tucked away inside the Fenton Thermos™. He was on his way home to drop off his school bag and head over to Tucker’s place for a fun filled weekend of video games and junk food. Reaching for the doorknob, the light breeze ruffling his hair made him smile, nothing could ruin this day. 

His Ghost sense went off, Danny forgot about Murphy’s Law. 

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mismagireve  asked:

I got a Bisharp recently from a trainer in Snowbelle, and I'm starting to get a little concerned about his behavior. He can't stand it when I leave his sight for very long, despite Bisharp being fairly independent from their trainers, and while I'm admittedly thankful he hasn't tried to challenge me for leader of the pack, he shows an awful lot of submissive behavior whenever I need to raise my voice or punish him. Is it possible he was mistreated by his previous trainer?

It’s possible, but certainly not the only cause.

Is it just you and him? Bisharp thrive only in groups, and while they certainly are flexible in what the group consists of, they become stressed and anxious in a group of four or fewer (including the trainer).

What kind of environment do you now live in? Adjusting from the fairly quiet, low-population Snowbelle to, say, a forested urban environment could be worrisome, and he may be clinging to what’s familiar (you).

Is he young? A lot of Bisharp become more aloof as they mature, but ones that evolve early can be clingy. They may also be over-eager to show remorse but, like a lot of us, they learn social expectations and self-confidence with age.

Generally speaking, abused Bisharp become hostile and evasive, not clingy or submissive, so he may just be struggling with the new lifestyle, trainer, and group dynamics. Give him some time, but keep an eye on him.

Baby Padmé asking about her Father's Scar

@persimonne sorry it took so long! I liked your suggestion to write this but it took a while to get to it. I hope this is okay!

Padmé examined her father’s face with extreme curiosity. Quietly tracing his features and pinching his ears and nose. Kylo sat still, obediently allowing his precious child to yank at his face. He twitched and grimaced with every rough grab, but otherwise allowed Padmé to do as she pleased. Anything to keep her happy.

Rey sat watching from across the room, curious as to why her daughter suddenly took such a keen interest in Kylo’s face. She watched her child glance back and forth between her parents, and then pat her own cheeks-

Oh, she was curious about her looks.

“I have Mama’s eyes.” She stated matter-of-factly, expression serious. Kylo cracked a smile, and nodded.

“Yes, I believe I’ve told you that?” He asked, smiling brightly. Padmé pouted, and crossed her arms across her chest. “Her attitude as well, you seem to have inherited.” Rey rolled her eyes, and smirked in their direction.

“You call it attitude, I call it backbone.”

Padmé carefully traced Kylo’s face as he laughed, fingers lingering on the scar across his face.

“How did you get hurt, Papa?”

Kylo glanced over at his wife, who was now looking particularly guilty as she fiddled with the papers in front of her.

“Papa was being stupid. So Mama had to smack some sense into me.” Rey bit her lip, and looked over, examining his scar carefully. Padmé glared back at her mother, again angry for her past actions against her precious father.

“Mama sounds mean. Why would you hurt Papa?”

“In my defence, he did kidnap me, throw me into a tree, and everything.” Rey called over, trying to meet Kylo’s eyes. Kylo smirked, clearly not as mournful as his wife.

“We all make mistakes. Papa deserves this scar. As I said Padmé, papa was being very stupid.“ Rey shifted uncomfortably, and stood up to join her family. “Besides, I like it. Makes me look intimidating.” Kylo declared in a dark voice, practically a low growl. Padmé stared back blankly, unimpressed.

“Papa isn’t scary.” Kylo gasped, hand to his chest in an over-dramatic fashion that was so starkly different from how he usually acted. He always seemed to slip into this persona when Padmé asked serious questions.

“What? Papa isn’t scary?! I’ll have you know I’m the scariest monster in the galaxy!” He declared, standing up and swinging Padmé into the air above him, sending her into a fit of giggles. “People across the system fear Papa’s name, and quake at the sight of him!”

Rey flinched back. Kylo smiled goofily at her, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“People don’t know better.”

mintyleavess  asked:

Ribombee(askaribombee) @ Asche: ...your eyes are mesmerising... -he pauses for a second before coming to his senses- ah..! do you have a favourite berry?

Asche: “And, as for my favorite berry… I don’t really have one. I’m pretty neutral about all of them- I think it is due to my nature?”

“Still…”

Asche: “I just like its form and colors, It’s so pleasant to my sight…”

<Asche’s reference has been updated!>

@askaribombee

strong-bottle-of-jyn  asked:

1/2 okay but siriusly (i couldn't help it) everyone knows lily and sirius are like brother and sister i.e. ride or die, love/hate, loves them or can't stand the sight of each other, lily and remus are like soft tea-and-books friends who make dry remarks and sarcastic jabs and everyone else and lily and peter... i guess he's kind of mom friend, like, whoa, lily, he's not worth it, now lets go to the kitchens and get snacks

2/2 and before jily happened, james and lily was kind of, that ideas stupid potter… let me fix it there now don’t get caught i cant ruin my reputation for being perfect. dont you mean prefect? no i mean perfect

i have so many feelings?? abt these friendships….. like, sirius and lily are definitely Fire and Fire with their blessed™ hair and sharp replies which could cut through diamond and fucked familial relationships.. (which, incidentally, is how they first bond) & sirius Hates the fact that james is high key head over for heels for lily, because it means he gets less face time with JP and he lives for face time with JP, but then he and lily bond and she’s?? like?? cool?? n now james is the jealous one 

remus is known as Mr Potty Mouth when all werewolf puns have run out and he and lily have a shocking dictionary of expletives which would probably give mr&mrs evans a heart attack… but they’re also both ppl who would only ever swear in the appropriate situation (unlike sirius who does not give a flyin fuck where or when he swears) & they def bond over books! but mainly just both having muggle experience n even tho remus doesn’t watch it, he is the only one who has a vague comprehension abt doctor who and also they have this running joke abt les miserables (until it stops being a joke, empty chairs @ empty tables amirite) and lily n remus have tea discourse but they would never admit that to anyone (””how many sugars remus??????””)

peter & lily bond over their shared love for gobstones even tho lily is Bad and peter is The Best™ and he constantly tries to teach her some strategy, but, nah, lily hasn’t got time for that… and lily helps him with notes and understanding stuff bc james and sirius speak too quick for him + remus is always behind anyway + lily just explains it so he Gets It…. they have a bet abt who can prank james&sirius the most times with j&s guessing it’s them (so far peter is winning)

the fucking Puns that their friendship had…. like, all of them did it, but especially James and Lily would try to one up him and It’s ‘’’Just Not™ Going to Work™ Evans, pls stop embarrassing yourself’’’’ but Yes! here for lily who helps out occasionally with pranks but only to improve them and not if they hurt anyone and only if she knows it’ll make potter look at her in Awe™

Yet another dark rp starter list
  • a few quotes, some straight from my brain, all possibly quite angsty
  • "I'm going to kill you now, I hope that's alright."
  • "Put the gun down!"
  • "You can't hurt someone who's already dead."
  • "I forget you."
  • "Don't say goodbye, I hate goodbyes."
  • "I can't believe I ever loved you."
  • "Shut up!"
  • "You've turned yourself into a monster!"
  • "I never wanted to hurt you."
  • "I can't stand the sight of you."
  • "Please, take whatever you want, just don't shoot them!"
  • "You traitor!"
  • "I should have expected this from you."
  • "How could you?"
  • "They're gone... I can't believe they're gone..."
  • "What the fuck did you do!?"
  • "We thought we were the good guys."
  • "What's the difference between a soldier and a monster?"
  • "I want their head on stick!"
  • "I can't believe you cheated on me!"
  • "Tell me why you did it."
  • "Just looking at you makes me feel sick."
  • "You're my prisoner now, and I'm never letting you go."
  • "If you scream I'll shoot."
  • "I don't want your money, I want revenge."
  • "It's your fault!"
  • "You're under arrest for first degree murder."
  • "We're going to die here aren't we?"
  • "This is going to hurt. A lot."
  • "I'm afraid it's terminal."
  • "You have 5 minutes to convince me not to kill you."
  • "You're no longer my child."
  • "The doctors say I only have a few more months."
  • "I know you've started drinking again."
Imagine Bofur being in love with you but thinking you're in love with Fili until he can't stand it anymore and confesses

For intangible-musings :)

A/N: I hope you don’t mind but I chose to do it from Bofur’s POV just to mix things up a bit, hope you still like it! (I like to imagine he’s telling this story to his grandkids)

~~~~~~~~

Boy was that a battle and a half! My limbs were trembling from sheer exhaustion both mental and physical. My clothes seemed to be completely covered in dirt, blood and sweat which didn’t make for a pretty sight. I reached my hand up shakily for my hat to fan myself off but when it only came into contact with the air I realised I’d dropped my hat not five minutes into the fight whilst trying to defend myself against a particulary gruesome orc, i mean all orcs are gruesome but this one just took the biscuit.

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conflagrationsstyle  asked:

“I was under the impression you KNEW I couldn’t stand the sight of you. And yet, here you are.”

IZombie — Season 2   {Sentence Starters}

❝ Why, but doesn’t that explain things just perfectly? ❞

     Ufufu! He turns casual in airs as he lounges, yes, because just the sight was enough, he would linger. What power presence had over a person! Had he ever made the mistake to give off an impression that distaste for him would matter? If anything, it only lured. Here was indeed, here he would not leave. Not until he was sated.

   ❝ Tell me, please - are you superstitious?  

     He’s genuinely curious if only because of legend, impression in itself. Albino hebi, ivory snake, a live one was good luck, a dead one should have been overlooked. Shouldn’t most have cheered for his appearance? Or was he a foul omen solely because everything about him had died so long ago? Corpse led on by nothing but hunger, boredom, tragedy. He wasn’t here for pity, however. Conversation revolving about him had turned stale a decade ago.

   ❝ Let’s talk about something else. I know there’s plenty that could be said about me, but how about you? Fufu, seeing as you’re so certain of my character, please tell me everything there is to know about you… 

  • villain: you cant run forever
  • hero: [continues to run while the villain just stands there]
  • villain: yep
  • villain: i sure am gonna catch up with you at some point and ohhhhhh boy you're gonna be in a bad spot that day
  • hero: [still running]
  • villain: i'm gonna get you!!!!! as soon as you stop i'll get you!!!
  • hero: [runs so far that they are no longer in the villain's sight]
  • villain: ... okay you can run but you can't hide!!!
  • villain: fuck
The Jenkinsian Principle

In which Solas and Twigs try to reach some common ground.


“Maker take you!” cried Cassandra as she dispatched the last of the Venatori in Nazaire’s Pass. Panting, she hefted her weapon back in its sheath and turned to her companions. “Leo of Lucien Bay has been spotted on the other side of the canyon; we could make it by nightfall if we hurry.”

“There might be a small problem with your plan, Seeker,” rasped Varric. “The Herald is down for the count.” He gestured to where Solas was tending to the prone warrior.

“UGH. Again?” Cassandra shook her head in exasperation. “It is a wonder she has gotten this far in life. How bad is it?”

Solas shook his head. “Quite serious. She will need a thorough and complicated healing. I can handle it, but perhaps you could ask the forward scouts for help setting up camp.”

“I don’t know if I could manage to pitch a tent with her around,” quipped Varric.

Cassandra and Varric regarded each other with open dislike and Cassandra made a disgusted noise. They stalked off to find the scouts.

Solas grasped the unconscious elf by her armpits and dragged her to the shadow of a sheltering rock. There would be a sandstorm coming through soon, as evidenced by the approaching clouds off in the distance. He hoped Varric and Cassandra could put aside their differences long enough to make short work of their errand. He unbuckled the Inquisitor’s heavy vanguard armor to find that the scale maille coat had been hacked through in two places. Peeking out were large, ragged gashes. He picked out stray pieces of maille, but as he did, the blood spilled out more rapidly. He cast hasty stasis barriers to stem the flow while he addressed his main concern: The elf had taken a blow to the head that worried him greatly. He probed her skull with deft fingers, finding areas where the nerves inside had gone dead. Summoning trace amounts of lightning, he sent them through the nerve passageways, awakening them and causing the synapses to fire again.

“If only this could make you smarter,” he murmured to himself.

“Hey… I’m right here, you know,” croaked the injured elf, brought to consciousness by Solas’s shock therapy.

“I apologize. That was unkind of me.” Solas turned his attention to Twigs’s wounds, gently pulling her maille coat off and pressing his hands into them to magically repair her damaged insides. Twigs writhed in pain, but did her best to keep from crying out. “Here, bite down.” Solas undid a strap from his satchel and put it between the Herald’s teeth. She grimaced and clamped down as the elven apostate worked on closing her wounds.

“It’s fine, Solas…” Twigs gasped between bouts of magic. “I know I’m not the brightest burning torch. Thank you for your help.”

“We are becoming too familiar with this scenario, you and I. Have you thought about asking Cassandra to teach you some blocking techniques? Some defense and strategic use of health potions might help you avoid this in future.” He applied more pressure, and Twigs tensed, biting down harder. “Perhaps ranged attacks?”

The magic let up, and Twigs relaxed a bit.

“Oh, Solas. I couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn. With an arrow, anyway. I’m a terrible hunter. The only reason my clan kept me around was because I’m reasonably good looking and probably good for breeding.”

“That can’t have been the only reason, Inquisitor.” Warily, he scrutinized the horizon. “There’s no sign of Varric and Cassandra yet, but I’m afraid the sandstorm is coming our way. We will have to find better shelter than this.”

“We passed a mine not far from here. Are you done?” Twigs rose to her feet, but saw spots in front of her eyes and felt her legs give way beneath her. Solas caught her before she toppled over entirely.

“For now, yes. But you should not try to walk, Inquisitor. You are too weak and you might damage yourself further. Hold a moment.” The apostate went to shoulder his pack and sighed, noting that the Dalish elf had bitten clean through the strap. He tied the two ends together as best he could. “I’m afraid I must carry you. I shall try to be gentle.” Anticipating the onslaught of the harsh sands, he covered his mouth and nose with a scarf, scooped the lithe-limbed elf into his arms with some effort, and began in the direction of the abandoned mine.

“My armor…”

“Useless now, I’m afraid. We can come back for it later, if you like.”

“Stupid Vints and their mauls. I crafted that suit from scratch!”

“I am still mystified by your approach to combat, Inquisitor. Why join the melee if you are so accident prone? Careless, even?”

“Well, if you paint with a big brush, you cover more surface. If I just keep swinging the battleaxe, I’m bound to hit something.”

“There is a strange wisdom in that, I suppose.”

“Wisdom, eh?”

Solas looked down at the weakly grinning elf in his arms, unsure of whether to encourage her, when she let out a chuckle that turned into a wet, bloody cough.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to take your place as the Inquisition’s resident scholar. I have no more place in your Fade-a-torium than I do in Josephine’s office or Leliana’s rookery.”

“We are almost there, but we must make haste,” warned Solas, looking over his shoulder. The roar of the sandstorm was becoming louder and closer. He began to run. It was a difficult task carrying the Inquisitor, who pressed her face into his shirt and gripped him tightly around the neck. Though lean, she was not light. What she lacked in intellectual muscle, she made up for in the training yard. She was dense in more ways than one. The sand overtook them a few paces from the opening to the mine, almost knocking Solas off his feet. He staggered, blown about by the harsh wind and cutting sand, swaying a bit before ducking and tumbling into the mine. Twigs rolled ungracefully as Solas cast an elemental barrier to keep the sand out. He collapsed against the wall of the tunnel, exhausted.

“I am sorry for dropping you, Inquisitor.” Solas removed his scarf and slid into a seated position.

“Should we be worried about Varric and Cassandra?” the elf gritted, propping herself up next to Solas.

“Undoubtedly. I hope they found the forward scouts and were able to take shelter. Are you alright? I believe you require further healing, but I admit at this point it would take more focus than I have.”

“You’ve done plenty, Solas. You might want to take a load off.”

“I thank you for your consideration.” Solas sighed heavily and crossed his arms over his chest, letting his head hang forward. And uncomfortable silence followed, and finally Twigs could take it no more.

“Solas…”

“Yes, Inquisitor?” Solas replied wearily.

“I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye… I wanted you to know that I don’t take you or your knowledge of the Fade for granted.”

“I would believe it more if you did not fall asleep during our conversations, lethallan.” Solas regarded his idiot companion with a wry smile.

“I do try- It’s interesting, I swear! There’s just something about your voice when you…” Twigs yawned. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it. I’m so tired.”

“As am I. It has been a long day. It could be hours before the storm passes. It would do us well to rest a while.”

Within a quarter of an hour, both elves were fast asleep. Twigs’s head had come to rest on Solas’s shoulder, but her mind was far away, wandering the Fade. Her astral self felt pulled through the green mists by the crackling energy emanating from her marked hand. The fog lifted slowly as she pressed forward, revealing a snow-covered village, abandoned by all who had lived there. Those who remained lay scattered and burned where they had died. Skeletons of broken trebuchets stretched toward the sky. She recognized this place.

“Haven.”

“Haven is familiar. It will always be important to you.” Solas’s voice came from behind Twigs, startling her.

“Solas!”

“I sat beside you while you slept, studying the anchor…” Solas explained the events after the conclave, and for once, the Inquisitor listened attentively.

“You changed… everything.” His eyes narrowed and burned into her, and, not for the first time, she was afraid of him. She blanched and turned away.

“Bad luck, that,” she mourned. “This power would be put to better use by someone more clever, more skilled, far-seeing.”

Solas grasped her wrist and held up her glowing hand. “There is nothing to be gained by wishing the situation were different. The anchor is yours, whether you like it or not- as is the Inquisition. Your actions will shape the world, Inquisitor.”

Twigs squirmed in discomfort and Solas released her.

“Do you have a problem with me, Solas?” Twigs asked, staring reproachfully at her taciturn companion. “I know I may not measure up to the ideal of what an Inquisitor should be…”

“Truthfully, I am concerned with your leadership of the Inquisition. I do not dislike you, but your actions have shown a distinct lack of subtlety and understanding of the world.”

Solas’s assessment was offered without malice, but it rankled the Inquisitor nonetheless.

“And what should I understand about it? My world before the explosion was so small. I was happy in my ignorance. As a person, I mattered very little. Most people would have been bothered by that, but not me. This mark was an accident, Solas- I’m not Andraste’s chosen. Ever since, I’ve been pulled in every direction by people supposedly wiser than I am. But if they can’t decide who among them is right, how could I be expected to do it?”

“A frustrating quandary indeed. And yet, seeking to broaden your limited perspective may help you to see through to the right path.”

“Everyone’s got their own idea of what that is- even you,” Twigs said bitterly. “I know you think I’m too soft, too short-sighted. To me, the simple truths are the easiest to follow. Lofty, overarching goals blind us to the people kneeling in front of us, begging for our help. That’s obvious even to idiots like me.”

Solas softened, sensing the elf’s mounting distress.

“Ir abelas, lethallan. Clearly you are trying. Come, let us walk a while.”

“So how did you become a warrior?” Solas asked as the two elves wandered through the snow and wreckage. “It seems incongruous with a disposition like yours.”

“I was trained by a human named Jenkins,” Twigs explained. “When it was clear that I wasn’t worth much as a hunter, I left my clan for a time and lived in a human village. Jenkins and I got along well. He was a poultry farmer, but in his youth he had been a great warrior. A maverick of sorts. If you know me at all, you may have noticed that I can sometimes balk or panic when tasks become difficult. You know, rituals, puzzles, politics… codex entries more than a paragraph in length…” She cast a sidelong glance at Solas, who refused to look at her.

“I… have.”

“But I run into battle without a second thought.”

“Ill-advised, but we can never stop you from doing it.”

“I used to shut down in battle as well. When you fail so much in life, the fear and despondency can become overwhelming. Jenkins taught me a trick to help.”

“To raise your weapon and run in, screaming?”

“Well, yes. If you draw your enemy’s attention right away, you can’t back away from the fight. Best to jump off the ledge before the fear takes hold. Especially if it’s a jump you have to make one way or another; it does no good to wait.”

“In a strange way, it makes sense.”

“I may not be the smartest or most skilled fighter, but the more the enemies are focused on me, the better the odds for my companions. I trust that you, Cassandra, and the others will take the openings I leave by creating a distraction.”

Solas looked at the Inquisitor incredulously and laughed.

“So you are a tactician after all. I am continually surprised by you, Inquisitor.”

“Stupid like a fox, buddy.”


“I have noticed that you seem quieter around Cassandra these days. Has something happened between you?” Solas probed, shifting topics.

“Ah. Well. It turns out she doesn’t swing my way.” Twigs blushed furiously and lowered her eyes.

“I am sorry. Such is the way of it sometimes.”

“It would be easier to get over it if we could afford some time apart, but she’s the best fighter we have. She’s indispensable. So now we have to go on awkwardly, trying to ignore the disparity in our feelings for one another. I’m hurt and embarrassed. Sometimes it’s better not to say anything at all.”

“With time, you will rebuild your friendship, lethallan. Cassandra is stoic, but I know she cares for you a great deal. Perhaps not in the way you would like, but would you prefer not having her in your life at all?”

“I suppose not.”

“The things you value in her will stay the same, Inquisitor, and so will the traits she respects in you. None of that diminishes because you fell in love and she did not,” Solas said, gently.

“I know that, but it’s such a lonely feeling. Loneliness is the worst.” Twigs crossed her arms and rubbed her shoulders, shivering.

“That it is. I have known much loneliness in my life.”

“Would you ever consider…? Y’know… with me?” Twigs looked up at the apostate, only to see his features darken ever so slightly.

“Lethallan, I would ruin you.”

“Oh. Well, at least you’re upfront about it.” Twigs shrugged and walked on. The apostate seemed surprised at the elf’s easy acceptance but said nothing. “Why don’t you tell me about some of your journeys in the Fade?”


“You know, Solas, I’ve enjoyed getting to know you better just now,” Twigs said brightly, kicking a stone down the path.

“Indeed, it seems that having a conversation while already asleep ensures you will not doze off on me. A pleasant surprise, Inquisitor. Perhaps we should conduct all of our discussions here in the future.”

“Not a bad idea. Do you think the storm is over?”

“I suppose we shall find out when we… wake up.”


Twigs jolted awake, wincing at the sudden pain from her partially healed wounds. Solas stirred under her as she realized with embarrassment that she had fallen asleep on his shoulder.

“Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean to-“

“It is fine, lethallan. You seem to have drooled on me,” Solas cracked a half smile as he stretched out his legs and began to rise. “Though it is hardly the least of your bodily fluids I wear,” he said, considering the bloodstains on his cloak.

“The washerwomen at Skyhold have a tough job. I should see that they get rewarded somehow,” Twigs craned her neck to look outside. “It seems the worst is over. Do we risk taking down the barrier?”

Solas nodded and dropped the magical field with a few flicks from his staff. The winds had died down considerably, and morning had broken. From his vantage point, he could see a large lumbering figure in the distance, heading toward the mine.

“I believe we have been found, but I cannot yet tell whether it is by friend or foe. Be prepared for trouble.”

Twigs got up slowly and limped toward the opening, clutching her tender midsection. Her head ached mightily as she tried to focus on the approaching figure. Her expression went from pained to joyful as she registered what she was seeing.

“Ser Nuggington!” she cried, recognizing her gigantic exotic nuggelope. “And Cassandra and Varric!”

“You are a welcome sight, friends,” Solas smiled, squinting in the new sunlight.

“As are you,” replied Cassandra, dismounting. “We saw your magical barrier from the camp after the storm. We thought for certain you were both lost.”

“How you doing, genius?” Varric asked the Inquisitor. “You look a damn sight better than when I last saw you.”

“She is still weak and needs rest, but the worst is over-“

“-Thanks to Solas,” finished Twigs, smiling at the apostate.

“I am glad, Inquisitor. I prayed that you were safe, but I feared the worst. I know things have been… awkward lately, but still, you are a dear friend to me. I would be devastated if you were lost.” Cassandra and Twigs shared a gentle embrace.

“This is all very touching, but maybe we should get the Herald back to camp,” Varric said pointedly. Cassandra nodded and helped boost Twigs onto the beast’s massive back. The Seeker mounted and took the reins as Solas climbed up behind the Inquisitor with implausible agility.

“Hold on tightly, everyone!” warned Cassandra as she dug her heels in Ser Nuggington’s sides, urging him into a brisk galumph. Twigs felt unsteady and feared she might fall, but a pair of strong arms encircled her from behind.

“I have you, falon.”

“Thanks, buddy.”

“Always.”


A few days later, at Skyhold, Solas was in his Fade-a-torium, deep in thought. A book was open on his lap, but he hadn’t looked at it in a while. A knock interrupted his reverie.

“Please, come in,” he called. The door opened and the Inquisitor shambled in, carrying a parcel. She was still moving slowly due to her injuries, and she had complained of persistent headaches ever since. Varric teased that she may have strained herself trying to think, but the joke was good natured and well-received by the legendary idiot.

 She approached his desk.

“How are you feeling?”

“I can’t stay. I have a meeting with the advisors, and after that I have to go lie down in a dark room. The light hurts my eyes.”

“I’m sorry to hear it. What brings you today, falon?”

“I felt badly that I… chewed your satchel strap like an animal, so…” she shuffled her feet and produced a handsomely made leather pack. “I made you a new one. Dagna helped me. It’s a bag of holding. It’s deep, like you.” She fell into awkward silence.

“This is a beautiful and thoughtful gift, lethallan. I thank you. You have hidden depths, yourself. I would not have you think otherwise.”

“Aw, you’re sweet, Solas. Hey, listen- The surgeon thinks that drilling holes into my skull will help the headache go away. She says it’s the latest practice at the universities in Orlais. Something about relieving pressure on the brain or whatever. Do you think it’s a good idea?”

“Absolutely not,” Solas replied without hesitation.

The Meeting - Part II

(x) (I) (II) (III) (IV) (V) (VI) 

“…I knowed you’d be here, Mummy sayed! Mummy readed the stories to me…I want to be a dective, too…how did you do it? Pease tell me…I was good…”

Sherlock was stunned into silence, allowing the news to sink in. He couldn’t move, let alone think. He stood stock still for several moments, staring unblinking at the photo – it wasn’t enough…he wanted to absorb every detail of the youngster, he needed to see her in the flesh. He whipped out his phone as he moved through the corridors.

Why didn’t you tell me? SH

I did not want to cause unnecessary distraction. Moriarty’s network was top priority. M

Unnecessary distraction? She’s my daughter. I’m a father. SH

No, brother dear. You played no part in raising Scarlett. You have no sense of responsibility over her. You, Sherlock, are nothing more than a sperm donor. M

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6. - Feel Bad About It; Can't Live my Life Without It.

Kalea

Today was not a good day. 8am, wearing nothing but a pale pink leotard, my pink pointe shoes, bun slicked back tight and my motivation no where in sight. My feet hurt from working the night before, my back hurt from all the standing I had been doing and I didnt have an ounce of energy.

Ballerinas of all types of perfection stood around me as we all stretched and prepared for the first lesson of the term. My gaze roamed each and every single one, eyeing out their figure, posture, form, hair and every last thing you could think of.

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ahsagitarius  asked:

Prompt- Can you write something where after they save Killian from the Underworld Emma just can't let go of him or let him out of her sight, please? By the way, you are so awesome for writing these prompts and writing them so quickly- you're the best!

I feel so awful! You were saying how quick I was, and then look! I hit a speed bump! So, here is your clingy Emma story. It’s a little angsty, but more fluffy than anything else. I hope you enjoy it!


At first, she could hardly believe he was really there. Killian, her Killian, was standing right there in front of her. He seemed to not quite believe it either, but neither voiced their fears.

He didn’t complain when she insisted he come home with her, (even though he mentioned wanting to see his ship) nor did it seem to bother him when she refused to let go of his hand.

The day wore on, and with each passing hour, her guard came down a little more, but she still couldn’t let him out of her sight. Not without panicking. And she couldn’t stop touching him now and then. Just to make sure he was really there. (Not that he made any attempt to stop all the extra cuddles and kisses. And what man in his right mind balked at being the center of his love’s attention?)

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  ( @badlandcs )

     kai’s all laughs and light amusement one second when he exits the club with the large group of people having accompanied him and attentive silence the next. he hears the commotion coming from the alley behind the establishment when they pass and as his head turns in curiousness, he sees features that seem awfully familiar. it takes him a moment until he figures it out and stops dead in his tracks, urging his mates to question his stopping.  you go ahead without me. i’ll catch up with you in a second.  and he’ll grin as a cover up.  think i left my phone inside. except he knows he hasn’t and he approaches the guys the second his friends are out of sight. he saunters towards them with eerie calmness, no trace of his former amusement left on his features as he comes into sight behind where they’ve got a certain blonde pushed up against a wall and makes his presence known when he speaks up.  you alright there, fellas? cause i think you’ve misplaced your hands. his gaze meets that of the taller one, who’s shooting him a look over his shoulder and whose hands are twisted into the collar of zander’s shirt.  let. him. go

But if John is not into clowns, and DAD is not into clowns... WHO IS FURNISHING THE HOUSE?!

And for the the 345th time, I forget to save the game and take half an hour to get back to the right point.

FROM WHO?!? …It begins to dawn on me that maybe… is she aware that her grandpa is dead?? Or is she in some sort of shock that makes her fail to realize it? Because she didn’t tell a soul that she was living alone on the island. She was nonchalantly chatting about Grandpa with Dave before.

….I don’t know how many times I began writing chunks of text when the explanation was on the next panel. I lost count of it.

Yeah, well, no way he was gonna die. And he has a pretty thick skin anyway… no, not figuratively, HE HAS GOT A CARAPACE. And we cannot give commands to anyone anymore, thanks PM.

WHOAAAAA, I CAN’T BELIEVE I JUST UNCOVERED THE BIGGEST MYSTERY IN HOMESTUCK!!!! The arm’s owner is… just David Brimner! The poor man was just trying to get his mail back with his ghostly powers! Oh, David, you silly prankster, you gave me such a hard time! Haha, I actually thought this was an important plot point, how silly of me! :)

Well, PM. Would you look at that. It’s like your personal cute doggy who brings you the mail on saturday’s morning! Just don’t slay him this time.

DON’T TRUST HIM, LIL’ WORMY!! He has only got eyes for the letter! He doesn’t care about you! He will kill you as soon as he gets his weak pathetic digits on that envelope! Just between you and me, lil’ wormy, I think he isn’t that alright in the head, all that talk about mail and politics, I think he wants to build an empire populated by mailbots, watch out.

Oh, the betrayal! Jasper is turning in his grav— well, you kind of defiled it a little while ago… But wherever he is, be sure he is turning!! Oh, he is turning like you wouldn’t believe! Turning and spinning and turning, it would put your youth roll to shame!

Look, all that pink and cats and wizards messed up with her head and now she talks like a normal thirteen y/o kid. I can’t believe she put something not purple on.

 And that countdown expired half an hour ago, just sayin’.

Not a transportalizer. Could or could not be an appearifier where you don’t have to insert coordinates?

I think there was a time in which a countdown was near expiring. I vaguely remember Rose being concerned about it. But it was so long ago, the memory is fuzzy and distan— GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE!

WHAT. He had a little suit on even when he was alive. The crosshair is stuck on him. 

CUTENESS OVERLOAD!!! ROSE AT FOUR YEARS OLD!!!!!!!!!

…In the middle of a therapy session with Jasper….

Yes, Rose. I’m sure you knew such big words at four, or even how to write at all. She’s really just making a drawing of Jaspers with tiny and badly drawn hearts all around it.

THE DAY HE DIED?!?!?! I don’t want to watch!

……………….ROSE, FOR THE SEVENTH TIME, CATS DON’T TALK!!!!!!

Eww. At least I don’t have to worry about Rose attempting to eat it because of its color.

It’s really just a bunch of random letter— OH MY FUCKING GOD. THOSE ARE THE BASE PAIRING OF DNA! …What is that thing… attempting to do… because the order displayed is mostly wrong. GG is an incorrect pairing, for example.

I’M JUST SO FUCKING GLAD SHE DIDN’T TRY TO APPEARIFY HERSELF. JUST SO FUCKING GLAD.

I’m almost sure it was Rose’s mom. Who else would be interested in bringing Jaspers back.

It’s incredible how obsessed the both of them are with that cat. And with wizards, because HONESTLY, Rose can deny it all she wants but someone who is as fascinated by dark lore as her and draws fanart of an Harry Potter parody CANNOT not be a wizards lover. They could be chatting amiably about them over tea and have the nicest mother-daughter relationship and instead they don’t even talk.

It’s not even that Rose’s Mom is not capable, it’s just that she wasn’t supposed to appearify Jaspers at all. If I got everything right it created a paradox and therefore a mutated clone. If one where to appearify someone they were meant to, even the dumbest would succeed. And by dumbest I mean John Egbert. Lalondes, step aside, we’ve got an honest to god ectobiologist here!

Can’t wait for the day we get all unethical and start cloning living beings!!

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"Somewhere Along The Line One Of JD's Own People Didn't Notice That Nikki Oh Nikki Is Totally Not A Song Title In His Style At All, And Now JD Is Crying And Throwing Stuff, Nice Work Anonymous Guy"
the Mountain Goats
"Somewhere Along The Line One Of JD's Own People Didn't Notice That Nikki Oh Nikki Is Totally Not A Song Title In His Style At All, And Now JD Is Crying And Throwing Stuff, Nice Work Anonymous Guy"

“Somewhere Along The Line One Of JD’s Own People Didn’t Notice That Nikki Oh Nikki Is Totally Not A Song Title In His Style At All, And Now JD Is Crying And Throwing Stuff, Nice Work Anonymous Guy," a song colloquially referred to as "Nikki Oh Nikki” that makes me feel slightly better about the boiling rage I feel towards a small handful of ppl

You know that guy
Who swept your girlfriend off her feet and out of your arms
In the summer between the sixth and the seventh grade
You know how his name sits in your brain like a tumor
And how his bright eyes shine in your memory
Even now

Let it bug you if you really want to but
Friend, let me assure you he's gonna die
You can take it to the bank that he's gonna die some day
He's gonna die
Maybe a few years before you do
Maybe a few years later
What does it matter in the long run

You know that girl who you told your secrets to back in high school
The one who faithfully broadcast all of them 
Throughout the generous pool of your mutual acquaintances 
And made it sound like you were psycho
And in need of professional help
Yes yes, yes you do remember

Well you can carry that grudge or you can let it go
But as sure as I'm singing this song you know
She's gonna die
She's gonna die, yeah she will
Five'll get you ten, she'll meet the same undignified end
That I will, and you will
And everyone we know

It may happen twenty years down the line
Or it may happen an hour from now
What does it matter
What does it matter in the long run

Everyone who's done you wrong
Everyone who's done you favors
Everyone you like, everyone you can't stand the sight of
What does it matter
What does it matter in the long run