#biggest thot

[becca-e-barnes]

I've been writing my dissertation like that gif of the cat frantically slamming a keyboard (you know the one) but it's got me thinking about professor Bucky and how he might incentivise you to get your work done for his class 😏

"You're not getting an extension. Don't even think about e-mailing me for one." The hardest part of dating your lecturer isn't actually the sneaking around; it's that he's a hell of a lot tougher on you than the rest of the class.

"But Bucky I-" You begin but he cuts you off and you know by the look on his face that there's no point pressing it.

"No. You're more than capable and you've got plenty of time to get it done. You don't need an extension, you need to apply yourself."

God, he's annoying. You know you can do it, you never said you couldn't. You just don't want to. There's a massive difference.

He pulls his copy of the required reading out of his bag, setting it on the desk beside your laptop and it takes everything in you not to bury your head in your hands.

"There. I've helped you enough." He nods towards the textbook but when you don't move, he flicks through the pages with a sigh, leaving it open at the chapter you know you should start with.

You sit there for another few seconds in a foul mood, mentally preparing yourself to sit here for the next few hours.

"How about I help you? I get the impression you need an incentive." He knows you too well, there's nothing more motivating than a little treat. "You have 12,000 words to write. For every 1,000 you write this week, I'll give you an orgasm."

Maybe you should complain about his assignments more often.

"Deal." Hell, if you'd known this was coming, you'd have started ages ago.

"Good girl." He laughs, amused at the rate at which your fingers begin to dance over the keyboard.

Getting started isn't too hard. You type out a quick plan of your chapters, dropping in the sources you know you'll need before starting your introduction and with your focus on your work, you hardly notice Bucky sinking to his knees under the desk.

You feel his warm, open mouthed kisses trailing up your thighs under your skirt and his soft groans drag your attention away from the laptop.

"Don't stop working." He insists, licking your sex through your cotton underwear, letting you enjoy the delicious friction on your cunt. "You're almost at the first thousand and it reads well so far." You feel his hot breath against the now wet cotton while one of your hands falls to tug his hair.

"If you stop typing, I stop licking." He threatens, pulling your panties to the side, gliding his tongue against your skin and groaning at the taste of your arousal.

You have just over 200 words until you reach your first thousand and it should be so easy but it becomes even harder when he sinks two fingers into you and you're able to hear how wet you are already.

His lips engulf your clit, sucking gently while flicking his tongue in vertical strokes in time with his fingers curling inside you. "Such a smart girl. I'm so proud of you." He hums before giving you a few broad strokes with a flat tongue.

He knows what his praise does to you and with your thighs clamped around his head, you fly your way through a few hundred more words. He chuckles when you proudly announce you reached a thousand but you don't stop typing at the same frantic pace.

"Sweetheart, if you want to get all 12,000 done this evening, I'll sit here as long as it takes." He smiles against your skin before giving you everything he knows you need. His tongue flicks quickly over your clit and his fingertips rub against the soft, spongy spot inside you and in no time you're gushing against his face, gripping his hair and riding your high out on his waiting tongue.

[javierduffy]

starting to get restless so i'm going to the gym now but have this javieran wippy in the meantime cux i miss posting here

[shouyuus]

consistency????? oh my blog??????? with my fic formatting????? PFT. ur funny.

[mazojo]

Towa and I as part of the Haru protection squadron

[manicpixie-tieflingboyfriend]

the Orin zevlor torture talk I've been seeing has been feeding me a big sad and I love to cause myself emotional pain at nearly midnight so why not

Orin showing up to camp as Zevlor for Aerdir because she knows sure as shit THAT would get her long lost bloodkin (cause he is still a bhaalspawn, just was "redeemed" in his youth) moving his ass to do what she wants him to!!

Bonus points of she takes it too far, gives him a nice tender hug as Zevlor, whispers all the things Aerdir would be dying to hear Zevlor say before using Zevlor's voice to give him his instructions, and he'd agree, he'd come just because Zevlor asked him to, and when she leaves and Aerdir is at the temple of bhaal and Zevlor is just laying there, broken while Orin does her giddy little murder speech Aerdir's mind breaks under that last bit of pressure that LAST bit of torment, because he has to save zevlor. fuck baldurs gate, fuck elturel, fuck faerun.

Orin knows she's won too, and she has so much fun taking the both of them apart while Aerdir does her bidding, while he's reclaimed by their father Bhaal, while his oath breaks and reforms around Bhaal and Zevlor only.

[liamgallaghermpreg]

I think the thing w Sam & Dean’s actions in the show is “correct” or “redeemable” or whatever doesn’t necessarily apply; it’s about whether or not they’re understandable in context and they always are whether or not it’s something they SHOULD do or if it was the RIGHT thing to do or not. And, you know, their actions are always designed to fight against the other’s main “thing.” Sam uses demon blood to save Dean because he’s driven by grief but Dean is angry because he’s just spent 40 years being tortured by demons. Dean lets Gadreel possess Sam, who struggles with bodily autonomy. Sam lets the Book of the Damned unleash a biblical evil to save Dean, who has a savior complex. Etc etc. So idk, you can feel a type of way or not but I personally find “irredeemable” to be kind of a reductionist word to apply to, y’know, the things that drive the themes of the show. It’s ALWAYS grey, there’s never a black and white answer. And that keeps it interesting!

[vexic929]

You're not wrong tho, Eobard is SUCH a drama queen. That bitch brings all the drama. No. He IS the drama!

Eobard would not live if not for the drama

[vgilantee]

are piss kinks (including holding only) on the okay or not okay list??

they're on the okay list! I have accepted my piss kink (and the minor humiliation kink that comes with it) aldhskdjan

(the plan is to have a green, yellow, red system for kinks but it'll take a hot minute to put together)

[rawr-mortgage]

I FUCKING HATE THE PURPLE LEVELS IN TWISTUNES

[thisismeracing]

bono!reader x mick thots

so like how do we feel about lewis going to ferrari and bono staying at merc and mick filling his seat for the bon x mick universe?

cause i dont think bon goes to ferarri with lewis i just dont

and having bono be mick’s race engineer at merc when he started off as michael’s? *chef’s kiss*

it feels wrong to have bono leave bon at merc for lewis

i was in the fence on including lewis’ departure from merc but leaving it out also feels wrong

and bono being mick’s race engineer is the only thing that really feels right to me. alongside the fact that bon stays at merc too.

☕️

this is a good line, bono staying as mick’s race engineer, but I see him having a super heartfelt conversarion with bb telling her he may leave the team soo, and kind of asking if she’s ok with it, if he can go with lew, and if she’s gonna be ok with mick (bc he’s accepted mick now and he’s actually relived she has the german with her now that he’s considering going to ferrari). Maybe bb will be super sad, leave mid conversation to seek for mick’s comfort, they will talk after some silent hours cuddling, and bb will go to her dad again to tell him she would love to keep working together w him, but it doesn’t matter if theyre in different teams or not, they’re on the same outside the tracks, they’re family and thats forever (this would go for lewis too 🥹) and she would talk with lew saying that she prefers her dad go with him rather than he goes alone to a different team. Im not sure, but this is the scenario I have in mind hihi

[ph-cutie]

i was actually not expecting redditors to hate klaasje shes wry and tired but kind to you and smokes and looks cool and committed espionage (possibly the sexiest crime you can commit) and she kisses girls likee what arent you seeing

[britcision]

Someone very special to me has not died for another whole entire year so to celebrate… well, I heard this song, and my heart went “DORIAN”

So

Enjoy?

@ekwolfwood 10/10 great job also do not die next year please

Brian Falduto fucking gets me I’d never have found this song again if not for the album name

———————

Hottest Guy Here

Varric and Dorian exchanged knowing looks. They’d been observing… well, some truly disastrous flirting between Lavellan and their own good commander from across the bar.

It had been great. Varric got them a couple bowls of peanuts, there was a free show, Cullen went at least six shades of red once he’d worked out that Lluciano was in fact flirting.

And then the commander had downed his drink, said something neither of them caught, and left.

Lluciano, poor guy, was still sat at the same table, sipping his own drink and occasionally glancing around.

Finally Dorian sighed.

“He still thinks Cullen is coming back, doesn’t he?” He asked rhetorically, already resigned to the answer.

Varric chuckled into his ale and downed it.

“Look at him. Is that a man who knows he’s been walked out on?” He shot back, then set his mug on the table and stood. “C’mon.”

Dorian hesitated a moment longer, looking from his drink to the still happily waiting elf. Lavellan was kicking his legs under the chair now, not a care in the world.

“Oh Maker I didn’t think you’d want to get involved,” he whined, quickly finishing his drink too. Varric gave him a slap on the shoulder that nearly made him drop it.

“Someone’s gotta, or the kid will wait at that table til the sun comes up and Cadash will have all our asses.”

That was inarguable, and Dorian may have still grumbled, but he didn’t delay further. Although apparently he didn’t quite stand fast enough for Varric.

“Besides, he’ll be sadder if no one tells him. D’you really want to leave him to work it out on his own?” The dwarf asked and Dorian heaved another sigh, shoving away from the table.

“Yes, yes, you’ve made your point. He’s far too pretty to be left moping.” And quite possibly would wait for Cullen well into the next day.

Eagle eyed as he was to identify plants in the wilds or spot an attack, Lluciano Lavellan was completely fucking oblivious to all else.

Especially the discomfort of a certain blond man in armour who couldn’t handle the addition of pretty young men to his preferences.

Frankly Dorian thought that the sooner he made up his mind the happier they’d all be, since Lluciano adored him. And didn’t seem to have noticed that the friendly flirting he’d apparently always engaged in had begun to mean something rather different to the commander.

Dorian blamed Cadash. Not because he thought the dwarf had anything to do with it, he just liked assigning them the fault for any inconvenience.

It wasn’t like they did anything but enthusiastically agree.

Lluciano greeted them warmly as they approached, just a hint of pink tinting his green veined cheeks. He still looked happy as could be, even if he did glance at the door Cullen had left through.

“Hello! Would you like to join us? Cullen should be back soon, we were just talking,” the elf said brightly, nodding to the other two chairs at the table.

Varric slipped deliberately into Cullen’s, a sympathetic smile on his face.

“I don’t think the commander’s coming back, Petals,” he said softly, under the hubbub. Seemed to notice something on the ground, his brow furrowing.

Lluciano just looked adorably confused.

“What? No, we were having such a good time, he’ll…”

Dorian couldn’t bear it. He threw himself into the seat on the other side of Lavellan, tossing an arm around the skinny elf.

“I’m sorry my dear Inquisitor, but I’m afraid it’s true. Very rude of him not to say goodnight and all that, but the man has fled.” He tried to say it as nicely as possible, but the words left a bitter taste in his mouth.

A little too fresh off the talks with his father, perhaps. His patience for this brand of intolerance was at an all time low.

He regretted it as Lluciano’s face crumbled.

“Did I do something wrong?” The elf asked them both, looking from one to the other in desperate entreaty. It drew Varric’s attention back to him and the dwarf reached out to quickly pat his hand.

“Nothing at all, Petals. Not your fault,” he hurried to reassure their herald.

Dorian huffed, his own grip tightening almost defensively around the man, pulling him back against Dorian’s chest. Lluciano let out the most delightful little squeak.

“The good commander has likely only just heard the scandalous rumours about you and I and finally come to the conclusion that perhaps you are actually showing interest when you flirt with him. How it took this long is a miracle to me,” he added darkly.

Cheeks now very flushed, Lluciano did his best to turn and face Dorian without actually pulling away.

“Scandalous rumours? About us?” He asked, voice just a little higher than usual.

Dorian should have stopped. Drawn back, apologised, he was fully aware of it. But he’d downed more than half a pint of ale on top of the three he’d already had with Varric trying to forget his father existed.

He leaned forward, resting his chin on Lavellan’s shoulder.

“Oh, you know. I’m the devious Tevinter magister who wormed my way into the Inquisition by seducing the good, pure Herald of Andraste,” he purred, and there was no way he couldn’t have felt the shiver that ran through Lluciano.

Well shit. Maybe the elf had been flirting with Dorian with purpose too. Dorian had hoped, but Lluciano was just so eager to flirt with anyone and everyone.

Not that he was going to think any better of Cullen for possibly not having noticed the same.

Lluciano was speechless for a long moment, but it most certainly didn’t feel like a rejection. Varric disappeared briefly under the table and for a hazy moment Dorian very seriously considered setting the elf on top of it and showing the whole tavern what Cullen was missing.

Then Varric resurfaced, slapping something down onto the middle of the table and startling Lluciano into jumping right out of the mage’s arms.

“Well look what I found!”

Dorian very seriously considered sending some choice spells his way, but those considerations vanished immediately when he saw what Varric had found. A nasty smile tugged at his lips.

“Well, well. Is that the good commander’s coin purse?” He asked innocently.

Lluciano seemed surprised, like he’d forgotten Cullen had been there at all. Well, good for him.

“Oh no, did he leave it? Maybe he will come back after all…” it wasn’t quite the same hopeful tone as before either. Even better.

Varric shook his head expansively, scooping the purse back towards him.

“No, no, this is clearly an apology. He doesn’t want his issues to ruin your night, so he’s left it so he can buy you some more drinks,” he explained with complete certainty.

Lluciano still looked a little sceptical, but Dorian was definitely picking up what the dwarf was putting down. He nodded vehemently, turning and waving to the bar.

“Shots of your best whiskey for the table, on Commander Cullen. Actually, shots for the whole bar!” He decided, to a round of cheers.

Cabot looked a little sceptical, but Dorian caught his eye and gave him a significant look. After all, it wasn’t him who’d be tipping, it was Cullen.

Teach the man to run away from his problems. And besides, he was Skyhold’s military commander. The only reason he paid for anything in the fort was because he was too polite not to.

There was a run on the bar for the free shots, but Cabot made sure that they got theirs first. Cutting through the crowd and swatting hands, he delivered the three smaller glasses and a bottle.

“Gonna take a while to clear that lot. Seems like you gentlemen may need refills.” His usually gruff tones did absolutely nothing to show if he’d caught on, or what he thought of the ruse.

If it even counted as a ruse, since Cullen had left his coin purse himself. They had just found it, and like good friends they would return it to him.

A little lighter than they’d found it, perhaps, but that was the finder’s fee. And a little extra for trying to disappear without a word on a sweet man who hadn’t even done anything differently from their past dozen conversations.

Whatever reluctance Lluciano may have had on finding the purse disappeared in the face of the benefits and he took his shot eagerly with Dorian and Varric.

And since they had their own bottle, the next round didn’t even have to wait. Or the one after that.

The singing started in around the fifth round of shots, which Dorian once again decided to share with the rest of the bar. They did a rousing toast to commander Cullen as the bar once again disappeared behind bodies.

The bard hadn’t quite finished her little ditty to their good commander, but the Inquisition was fast developing its own drinking songs, and once they persuaded her to share what she had

(Cullen’s coin purse once again a factor, in the form of an extra strong bottle of Dalish wine)

They all took turns ad-libbing their own verses. Lluciano’s was rather sweet, for all that it ended in an ode to the good commander’s ass.

Dorian’s follow up was a little less touching, but it wasn’t like he’d had much time to get to know the commander. Other than that he was also an excellent cheat at board games.

Both got cheers though, as did every other attempt to sing the praises of their military leader. The tavern was about half full of soldiers and mercenaries, the usual mix, and common folk who’d either sought refuge or made a pilgrimage to Skyhold.

What lucky souls had made it by tonight would certainly have some tales to tell.

The commander’s generosity was only one aspect of the night, though it was a strong unifier.

The Iron Bull’s Chargers arrived en masse not long after the party really got going (which may well be the first time Dorian had seen proof that they existed outside of the bar), and they had some excellent songs of their own.

Dorian found himself rather taken with Bull’s second in command, a handsome fellow named Krem who dropped by to greet their Inquisitor as a personal friend. Lluciano made the introductions eagerly and suddenly Dorian was surrounded by all manner of sweaty mercenaries.

Entertaining people, though. Fond of sharing stories, extravagant drinking games, and encouraging entirely-too-drunk elves to dance on tables.

Dalish led Lluciano in something that looked like river dance, involving a lot of bouncing and kicking in place. Lluciano wasn’t exactly great at it, but given how drunk he was just not kicking all their drinks off the table was a feat.

Dorian firmly refused to join in, but that didn’t stop the Chargers from sweeping people far and wide into their raucous dancing. Varric joined in enthusiastically enough, although as far as Dorian could see he was doing a different dance entirely.

All in all, it was one of the most enjoyable nights Dorian had had in years. Lluciano was happy, his exuberance shining like a star in the festivities.

Not that Dorian would ever admit that something so small would make warmth glow in his chest, but. It did. And took some of the urgency from the part of his mind plotting dire revenge on Cullen.

Maybe just a stern talking to. A reminder that it was no one’s fault but his own if he got up his own arse. And a much lighter coin purse, which should do the trick.

And, well, now that he knew Lluciano was receptive to his own attentions? Dorian took a moment when most of the Chargers had passed out and the party was finally winding down.

Lluciano wobbled his way to the bar and Dorian followed, giving Cabot a broad wink behind the elf as he tried to order another round of ales.

“Actually, Luci, I was thinking it’s time to turn in for the night,” Dorian purred, leaning up against the bar beside the elf.

Who jumped like he hadn’t known Dorian was there, turned, and pouted with the widest puppy eyes Dorian had ever seen.

“Oh, d’you have t’ go?” Lluciano asked, words running together in a combination of drink and pleading.

Dorian would very much have liked to kiss him, the sweet little man, but he was a gentleman. He would ask first.

“Well, I was rather hoping you’d accompany me,” he offered with his most charming smile. Lluciano blushed cherry red again and clearly forgot every language he’d ever known, mouth opening and closing soundlessly.

Finally he gave up on speech and nodded, slipping his hand through Dorian’s offered arm and tucking himself in close.

Fantastic.

Dorian was quite sure he couldn’t perform at his best, he’d had plenty of drinks of his own, but dammit he had a sweet and willing partner, his father could go to hell, and it wasn’t like either of them would remember the night with all that much clarity.

Waking up in the same bed the next morning could hopefully lead to some fresh encounters all their own, which they’d both remember.

Hell, if Dorian did his best, maybe Lluciano would stop mooning after Cullen entirely, and they’d all be happier for it. Except Cullen, once he worked out what he’d missed.

There had been rumours that at least one of the Heralds had been cavorting on the war room table. Dorian could probably take Luci there loudly enough to make Cullen turn all sorts of interesting colours.

Tonight though, Dorian was going to do his level best to finish off an excellent night with at the very least bloody good sex, Lluciano following him eagerly across the courtyard and back into the main keep.

Stumbling a little, clutching each other for support, they made it up the stairs and into the opulent chambers Dorian had fashioned for himself.

Lluciano threw himself enthusiastically onto the sheets and Dorian didn’t bother hiding his laugh, swaying back without the anchor of the other man’s weight.

Paused when Lluciano didn’t move.

Was he alright? Had he somehow injured himself on a bed? The man was trouble prone enough, Dorian wouldn’t have been stunned.

He was even pretty sure he could identify a healing potion if needed.

Stumbling closer, he prodded with the exaggerated care of the very drunk at Lluciano’s shoulder.

The elf let out a loud snore.

Dorian stared down at him for a while, this information sinking slowly through a haze of drunkenness and half-anticipatory excitement.

Of course.

Of course that was how tonight ended.

Sighing to himself and then dissolving into helpless giggles, Dorian kicked off his boots and threw himself into the bed on the other side of Lluciano.

Who dipped and rolled towards him as the bed sank beneath his weight, but the mood was well and truly broken. Dorian let him tuck himself up close, and just about managed to drag one of the blankets over the both of them.

“‘Rian?” A sleepy mumble came from somewhere under the mess of red hair now pressed to his chest. Dorian pressed a chaste kiss to the top of his head.

“Go to sleep,” he told Lluciano, and absolutely did not feel a blossoming fondness in his heart when the elf immediately threw an arm around him, nuzzled closer, and started snoring again.

**

Dorian’s resulting hangover was light enough that he was almost feeling charitable as he approached their good commander’s office.

He certainly hadn’t been pacing himself, but that Skinner woman from the Chargers had told him to balance his wine with water and it seemed to have helped at least a little.

Poor Lluciano was still in Dorian’s bed, whining whenever the sun shone through the crack in the curtains. Later, Dorian would have to see what he remembered.

And maybe take the chance to actually follow through on what they’d missed the night before. Gods, they might even both remember it if they weren’t uproariously drunk before.

All in all, he was in a rather good mood as he sauntered up the stairs, across the battlements, and pushed Cullen’s door open.

Cullen looked up from his paperwork just in time for his coin purse to land on the desk in front of him.

“You were utterly awful to Lavellan last night,” Dorian told him cheerfully, not beating around the bush, “but don’t worry, you’ve already made it up to him.”

Cullen’s brow furrowed, his face freezing half way through what looked rather a lot like guilt. He looked back down at his now notably much lighter coin purse.

“Dorian, what did you-” he began, suspicion beginning to build to something which Dorian frankly didn’t have the time for.

“Well first Varric and I had to inform him that you wouldn’t be coming back, since he’d have waited for you all night long,” he cut the other man off sharply, raising a brow.

Cullen’s mouth snapped shut. And yes, that was definitely a look of contrition.

“And then we made him feel better,” Dorian continued, satisfied that Cullen seemed capable of shame and decidedly smug about it. “You bought drinks for the tavern last night, Commander. Very charitable of you, and I’m sure our new recruits will be feeling right at home.”

He paused for a moment, considering, and then shrugged. Cullen had bought very generous drinks for the tavern last night.

Some of them might have forgotten they’d joined.

“Well, once they can tear their arses from their mattresses, anyway. And then I took Lluciano to bed, since that’s something those of us who aren’t afraid of the woes of being seen with a man can do,” he added nastily, looking down his nose at the commander.

A sudden hot flush bloomed across Cullen’s face and he stared down at the paperwork again, unable to meet Dorian’s eye.

Dorian almost considered letting him finish collecting his thoughts, just to see what he might manage to say. But then, where was the fun in that?

Dorian quite liked to roll by, drop some pointed commentary, and roll on. And he had a rather lovely young elf to get back to.

It wasn’t like Cullen needed to know what had or hadn’t actually happened in Dorian’s bed the previous night.

“And I’m going back to rejoin him, and don’t worry. I’m quite sure he won’t even remember your name by the time I’m through,” he added cattily, swanning out the door again and leaving it open behind him.

He heard it close again when he’d almost reached the door at the other end of the battlements.

Well, good. Let the asshole chew on that for a while. And the next time he wanted to push a sweet young man aside, maybe he’d at least have the balls to say it to his face.

Dorian, meanwhile, had some hangover cures to procure.

[rachiller]

Btw I liked the atla live action in so far as live actions will never live up to our expectations so I kept them low, but the real positive outcome is that it made me want to do a rewatch of the originals and I do not regret any of it

[tiodolma]

4 x 03

Merlin’s like “Arthur I will forgive all your genocidal tendencies even when I know you would be willing to kill me and everyone I ever love on the spot, because I know you will be a great king to me and my people” while also being “magic will be outlawed, i can never reveal myself to him.”

Just how complicit could this guy get? The destiny BS fucked him up real bad. This isn’t love, my friends, this is creepy blind devotion, an egotistical kind of obsession.

Merlin’s kindness, compassion and trust in others, while being his greatest strength, is also his weakness. There should have been a limit to where his compassion could reach, but for Arthur it is an infinite well. There was no “I love you but you have gone too far” kind of line anymore.

Where does Merlin even draw the line? He endures the daily physical abuse. He stays quiet thru the insults and inhumane dismissals. He has forgiven Arthur for murdering innocents. He has cheered him on as king even when Arthur has declared magic, all Merlin’s people, Merlin himself as Evil, even when Arthur has disregarded and ignored all evidence of otherwise.

The damning truth is, Merlin has no line drawn for Arthur... And that is scary. That spells doom for everyone else whom Merlin decides is not worth saving. This is also means Merlin is not saving himself anymore.

I think At s4 Merlin has unwittingly become so close to Arthuriana Merlin. Let’s be real. Merlin is a horrible savior character. He is a powerful class traitor at best.

If i was a druid I’d do everything to incapacitate Merlin too. And slap him to his senses too. Tell him that the prophecy isnt helping anyone anymore. It’s only helping the abuser. I want to make him see whats happening on the ground. I want to expose how blind he has become while staying in that pedestal of privilege called “arthur’s side”.

I’d tell him he is more than a kingmaker. That He Is A Person who should be loved, who should be cherished and respected At All Times, not just when the monarchy or the fates seem fit.

Morgana was right. Mordred was right. Lancelot was Right, William was right. Sigan was right. Gilli was right.

This is why Adventures of Merlin should be left in 2013 lmao. How the hell did this become a family-friendly show, I can never understand. (Pulls hair out... but well hey this kind of stuff is what makes Marvel movies nowadays. hhhhhhh)

......................

Merlin should have ran away with Freya when he had the chance. Fuck Gaius for turning Freya in, honestly.

[darlinimamess]

thinking about how i was only in the hospital for a week bc i hated the staff so much i forgot to hate myself

[saintblk]

yeah spawn might be musty and decaying under that suit but i’d still let him hit fr idc🕺🏽