You're A Mess Of Good Intentions Gone Wrong. You Strike A Match On Yourself To Keep Others Warm, And

“you're a mess of good intentions gone wrong. you strike a match on yourself to keep others warm, and now the whole goddamn world's on fire. you try to put it out, and you try so hard. the dam breaks, and the waters of your sorrow pour free. you are sorry; so very, very sorry- and you will drown everyone to prove it.”

– m.a.w; the hero who couldn't save anyone

Best Wife

“Gwen is the best at everything, isn’t she?” Merlin remarked as they walked together. “Best seamstress, best friend, best queen…”

“Best wife,” Arthur added fervently.

Merlin hummed at that and made an ambivalent gesture, just to be difficult. He then had to bite his lip to hold back the laugh that bubbled up in his throat at the king’s indignant expression.

Guinevere, of course, caught the glittering amusement in his eye right away. She put on a tone of exaggerated injury as she demanded, “Merlin, you don’t think I’m the best wife?”

Merlin shot her a well-constructed grimace of guilt and sympathy. “Well, I mean, every man has got to be biased in favor of his own wife, hasn’t he?”

“You don’t have a wife, Merlin,” Arthur informed him with a scowl.

Merlin shrugged, unaffected by the pronouncement. “I might do.”

“No, you don’t—”

Just then, Merlin caught sight of Lancelot coming down the hallway. His eyes lit up. “Lance!”

The knight looked towards the sound and, noticing the trio, waved in greeting.

“I need you to settle a matter for me,” Merlin told him, the picture of earnestness. When Lancelot nodded, he asked, “Who has the best wife: me or Arthur?”

To the king’s immense shock, a stricken look crossed Lancelot’s face.

“You want me to choose?!” he demanded almost shrilly, and if it was an act, it was the most flawless performance in the five kingdoms, because his voice even cracked on the question.

Merlin’s gaze softened at once. “No, no, if it’s too difficult to say, I won’t make you. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

Lancelot looked like a man granted a reprieve from execution— an absolutely ridiculous response to an already baffling conversation. Then, with a short nod of farewell, he hurried off down the hallway as if fearing Merlin might change his mind.

Both Arthur and Gwen stared after his retreating back for a long moment before slowly turning those stares back on Merlin.

“Do you have a wife?” the queen asked, incredulous.

Merlin only shrugged again and repeated with a small, mischievous grin: “I might do.”

Imagine all the irritation when peter/sheriff and stiles/derek having a double wedding. "Would you mister stilinski marry mister hale?" // Imagine they send the wrong Hale to the sighning because they're late.

Bwahahahaha! 

“Listen,” John says later, unfastening his tie. “It’s just a clerical mix up, and it’s going to get sorted out after the weekend.” 

“Meanwhile, you’re married to my husband and I’m married to yours!” Stiles hisses. 

The mix up was only discovered after the joint reception. Luckily, because John knows otherwise Stiles would not have coped well with having to smile for the photos and play nice with relatives they haven’t seen in years with this hanging over his head. 

Peter wanders by, drinking champagne from the bottle. “So how do we do this? Stiles, are you sleeping in my suite tonight or should I come to yours?” 

“Peter!” John exclaims. “You’re not helping.” 

“I’m not here to help,” Peter leers. 

Derek sighs, and puts an arm around Stiles’s shoulders. “It’s just a piece of paper, Stiles. It doesn’t mean anything.” 

“Listen to Step-Daddy Derek,” Peter grins, and then chortles when Stiles throws him a murderous glare. 

“Dad!” Stiles wails. 

“Derek, take Stiles back to your room,” John says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And make sure he drinks some water! And Peter…” 

“Yes, nephew-in-law?” Peter smirks. 

John sighs. “You’re never going to let this go, are you? This is what the rest of our life together is going to be like, isn’t it? This is what I’ve signed up for?” 

“Technically, it’s what Stiles has signed up for.” 

Derek catches Stiles around the waist before he can actually punch Peter in the face, but i’s a near thing. 

“Go,” John says to Derek, and Derek hoists a protesting Stiles up into a fireman carry and left the room. 

“Well then,” Peter purrs. “Alone at last.” 

“Oh,” John deadpans. “We couldn’t possibly. Not while we’re married to other people.” 

And he heads for the bathroom and shuts the door. 

“John?” Peter complains complains loudly from the other side. “John, seriously? John?” 

John smiles to himself in the mirror. No, not seriously, but let him suffer for a while. It serves him right for being a dick. And if John didn’t have at least a few tricks up his sleeve for how to deal with Peter in dick mode, well, he never would have agreed to marry the guy. 

Mieko Kawakami, Heaven/ Terry Pratchett, Thief of Time

dadstiel 🥺

I held her close to me with my eyes closed, wondering if anything in my life had ever been this perfect and knowing at the same time that it hadn’t. I was in love, and the feeling was even more wonderful than I ever imagined it could be. A WALK TO REMEMBER (2002), dir. by Adam Shankman