#this is crazy actually

[wolfienation]

cannot believe the title for part 2 is Wicked: For Good im gonna SCREAM

[gaykey]

any of my old skam mutuals still around btw????? hello??

[sunniques]

Hello! Hello! Hello!

Imagine baking cookies, and then Jeonghan's comes and hugs you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist and putting his head on your shoulder, just giving you soft kisses and gentle touches. Then, he starts grinding against your ass, groaning how good you feel while he lets his hands wander your body, and you're like "Han, the cookies.." and he's like "Fuck it. I want you."

-🌙 anon

crazy because he would pout and use his needy, pleading voice to convince you to fuck him instead of putting your focus on the cookies. he wasted no time, fucking you on the kitchen counter and feeling smug because you’ll always choose his cock over anything else

[mysonsareturtles]

Are you seriously telling me that the OG tmnt IDW comics is just a separated au 😭????

[wormchurch]

[clusterhu-g]

dudes hittin my line like this 😟

[montygatorguy]

MY LAZY AS FUCK &J PRIDE TIKTOK HAS OVER 3K VIEWS WHAT THE FUCK????

[comebackali]

Star Wars Crimson Reign #3

[newmusick]

now that's smarts...school is very important.. the shadow is speaking

@ https://rumble.com/c/c-1265842 & https://x.com/infectone7 yes join us speak your truth to us @ infectone we still give a shit about you ! im always looking for the like minded.

dipper and mabel bad end where they end up like ford and stan

[letthehatersbark]

The funniest one star review of Wicked I've seen so far

[mintaii]

death of the magician

[saesyndrome]

okay i get the gay romance in house md now.

[ropebunnykant]

cant they just fucking call it even at this point. like you’re both liars and fucked each other over somehow

[alitlantern]

another world, another loss. the inquisitor makes a call, and whether it's right or wrong is only for history to decide.

hawke remains behind in the fade to give the grey wardens a chance, and varric begs anders to stay and save the world one last time.

the inquisitor (a human mage, dignified and dainty but no less capable of bringing the world to its knees) makes the wrong call. and word comes that the elven clan who had reached out to the inquisition for aide was all but eradicated.

they arrive late into the night, the lone survivor more corpse than man. most of his body bore magical burns - magic of his own making, if the eyewitness reports are any indication - and most of wycome had burned along with his skin. his face had been lovely before the fire and resulting infection had its way with him, now it looks sallow and sickly. in the fleeting moments he's awake all he does is scream for the family the city had massacred.

by all rights he should be dead. it would be a mercy to end it now and let him join them. the free marches are already already requesting he be returned to them for sentencing (a foregone conclusion, only the gallows await) but the inquisition is holds firm. if he is to die it will not be in the name of 'justice'.

anders is pulled from his bed to save his life. to lift one death from the inquisitor's already heavy conscience. the elf is not awake when they enter the infirmary, more unconscious than sleeping. his breathing is shallow, the pillow underneath his head already damp with sweat.

it's only when the magic starts to work that he stirs. his head lolls to the size, hazy green eyes opening to stare at the human with a mixture of fear and apprehension until he sees the glow of magic.

his unburned hand catches anders', uncertain whether he's trying to *stop* the man from saving him, or plead for salvation. his voice quiet and desperate, a deathbed confession.

"Tel'abelas... they deserved... to burn for what they did..."

          ━━━ GRIEF COMES TO HIM MOSTLY AT NIGHT. When he has no tasks to distract his hands or mind. When all of Skyhold is asleep and there is nothing to be done about the gaping hole in his chest. Rest does not come easily. He clings to himself, arms tight as a noose, body rocking as he waits for the relief of dawn.

          Hawke is dead ━━ the thought surrounds him, suffocates him. Presses on his chest like a brick. He's drowning, the thought thick and muddy swamp water.

          When a hand grips his arm, he flails, a startled yelp tearing from his throat. He feels guilt in the same moment his eyes blearily register one of the nurses he is familiar with ; but she barely lets him begin apologizing before seizing his arm and demanding he follow.

          He pauses only to shuck on pants before chasing after the girl. Skyhold's passageways are narrow and winding. The lamp swinging in her hand offers little solace from the clouds obstructing the moon's glow.

          The infirmary hushes as he enters, all eyes deferring to him, though he catches the ending of their conversations : he's already dead ━━ kinder to let him pass ━━ the Maker has him now ━━ elf asked for it ━━ he shouldn't be here.

          ❝ What's going on ? ❞ Anders finally asks as he approaches the examination table.

          The elf laid out upon the stone is little more than ash and though the fire has been long put out, the reek of burned flesh and singed hair churns his stomach. He reaches immediately for the man's hand, turns his wrist to feel for a pulse. He holds his breath and prays and when the pads of his fingers register the gentle, thready fluttering of a barely-there beat, Anders begins shouting.

          ❝ What are you all standing here for ? This man lives ! I need ━━ Maker, I need dressings ! ❞ He rummages in a drawer for a moment before retrieving a silver tin. ❝ You, yes. Take this and tell the kitchen staff to brew it strong and boiling. Then bring it here. ❞

          ❝ There's bound to be no one in the kitchens this time of night, Messe━ ❞

          ❝ Then you do it ! Hurry ! ❞

          He turns only for someone to shove the requested dressings into his hand, thin pieces of gauze that he lays out in strips on the table beside the unconscious elf.

          ❝ Good, yes. Thank you. ❞ Anders grabs a pair of scissors and cuts through the man's shirt to expose more of the burns. The cloth sticks to the wounds and Anders' face crumbles in sympathetic pain.

          ❝ Everyone that's not necessary, leave. This man is at great risk of infection. ❞

          No one complies for a moment. They continue to gawk and mumble in judgement until Josephine speaks up and ushers them out.

          The room sufficiently empty, Anders reaches for a scalpel ━━ a blade that was little more than a repurposed hunting knife.

          ❝ Maker keep you, ❞ he mumbles under his breath as he uses the edge to scrape off the worst of the elf's burned flesh. It comes off in bloodless chunks, the white fat underneath too traumatized to bleed.

          It sickens his stomach, working on another person like this. His healing senses guide him, but his mind reels with the simple horror of taking someone's skin apart. He thanks the Maker with every breath that the man stays unconscious long enough to get through the worst of it.

          ❝ Will he live ? ❞ A pragmatic yet disturbed voice mumbles in his ear as he sets the scalpel down.

          Anders shakes his head, uncertain.

          The biggest kettle the kitchen had is delivered then ; fragrant and earthy with the signature base of almond nuttiness. Anders lines a basin with as much gauze as it can hold, then pours the steaming liquid over the cloths. As they soak for a moment, Cullen shifts, his armor grating against the sullen infirmary's atmosphere.

          ❝ It would be kinder if he died. Wycome is already demanding reparations. ❞

          ❝ I'm not going to let him die simply because it would be convenient for the Inquisition. ❞ Anders hisses and wrings out a dressing. ❝ Whatever he did, the Maker has seen him suffer for it. Or would you call this injustice ? ❞

          Cullen frowns and tries not to look at the dying elf, though Anders gestures to him pointedly.

          ❝ We'll ... look into it. There may be some way around their demands. ❞

          ❝ See that you do, ❞ Anders dismisses and begins layering the tea-soaked gauze onto the poor man's wounds.

          It's a slow process and one he eases with the summoning of a Compassion Spirit ; the soul eager to ease the man's pain. The blue plume of magic settles on his hands as he works to cover every wound in the warm cloths.

          Perhaps it is that easing of pain which allows the man to wake finally.

          They are alone then when the elf grips his arm. No one but Anders is around to hear his strangled, furious confession. He freezes at the contact, meeting the man's eyes with overflowing sympathy. Empathy, perhaps, for how viscerally Anders feels his suffering. His righteous rage is palpable and Justice stirs.

          ❝ I believe you. ❞ He reassures and carefully takes the elf's hand to settle it back onto the table. ❝ But there's nothing to be done right now. You're extremely wounded. It would be best if you stayed still. I'll get you something for the pain. ❞

[liquidstar]

If my mom sees a significant amount of blood she gets lightheaded, and has fainted on some occasions. Once it happened when we were kids, I wasn't there to witness it but I heard the story from my dad. Basically my brothers, around 7 or 8 at the time, were playing outside while my mom was making their lunch, and she accidentally cut her finger. It wasn't anything serious, but it drew a fair bit of blood and she passed out. My dad saw this and rushed over, but he didn't really know what to do so he just sort of started slapping her to wake her up (not recommended, but he had no idea and panicked)

At that exact moment my brothers both came in from playing, and all they saw was our mom unconscious on the floor and our dad slapping her. So, like, without even saying a word to each other they both just INSTANTLY start whaling on him, like, full blown attack mode to defend our mom. Which obviously didn't help the situation, but she did wake up and everything was fine.

Now our dad says that he's actually really glad they attacked him over what they thought was going on, because it means he raised good boys. And I still think that's true, they're very good boys.

[trekkerac]

he's like a faulty lightbulb