#myrlins

[lockhcrts-a]

smooch

hands  find  the  dense  fabric  of  a  suit jacket,      fingers  digging  themselves  into  it  with  the  ferocity  of  a  carnivore  discovering  the  flesh  of  a  prey  with  its  teeth  and  claws        ;        there  is  nothing  quite  like  desire  or  need  when  mistletoe  hangs  above  his  head  and  his  veins  are  laced  with  liquor  and  skin  comes  alive  to  the  dance  of  fingertips  tracing  imaginary  lines,        drawing  goosebumps  in  their  wake  alike  a  prayer  filling  the  emptiness  left by  a  dying  man.          a  slight  tug  on  fabric  to  draw  him  closer  as  he  himself  rises  on  his  toes  to  close  the  distance  between  lips,       there  is  nothing  as  holy  as  the  taste  of  alcohol  resting   'pon  lips  he  never  did  meet  before  like  this. 

lips  part  a  mere  moment  later  as  a  smile  appears  on  his  features,        a  true  one        (       unlike  many  of  the  ones  he  gives  out  these  days       )             "      you  have  a  great  taste  in  alcohol,       i  can  tell.      " 

@myrlins

[suitedbrute-blog]

@myrlins

Listen you.

[fadedancer]

magisterivm replied to your post

“//Heading to an unpleasant doc appointment >< wish me luck :c”

//*so much love*

that-hawke-woman replied to your post

“//Heading to an unpleasant doc appointment >< wish me luck :c”

OKAY!! Good luck!

vigilflight replied to your post

“//Heading to an unpleasant doc appointment >< wish me luck :c”

*TIGHT HUGSSSS*

bansheeqceen replied to your post

“//Heading to an unpleasant doc appointment >< wish me luck :c”

good luck!

myrlins replied to your post

“//Heading to an unpleasant doc appointment >< wish me luck :c”

sends you sad shit instead

Thank you so much for the wellwishes erryone who commented or clickied the heart (except for you wasa 🍆 ) It actually went really well. I have some more tests this week but it looks like everything might be okay o/

[mcckingsa]

me @ my mutuals:

[hisfinessearchive]

        it’s a combination of playing cheeky as well as wholesome appreciation. thus far, he hasn’t felt an air of superiority radiating off of the agent known as merlin --- and that’s quite pleasant, considering the entirety of instances in which he’s been seen as little more than the criminal he once was, as though it’s all he’ll ever be. ( well --- he certainly hasn’t ceased his habit, but that’s a minor detail he chooses to sweep aside. )

        with a flourish, solo claims a hand, the other rising in addition; swift, dexterous fingers swipe his current watch in favor of fastening another, a rare piece that might cost as much as some of the more valuable works he’s gotten his hands on.

        he seals it with a kiss pressed against the agent’s knuckles, lingering and tender, as though he might break with even the slightest bit of force. then solo lifts his head, and despite the tenderness of the gesture the smile is nothing less than mischievous.

        a valuable piece stolen, but with good intention. it’s a matter of whether or not merlin can look past the evident crime.

@myrlins        /        starter call !

[doctoreidetic-blog]

He’s nervous, coming in here.

Then again, he’s nervous pretty much all the time, these days. Nervous that he’ll see someone over his shoulder, some reminder of what he’s done or what he’s left behind. Nervous that he’ll come face to face with one of the people he let down so badly.

They’d trusted him to be dealing with his problem, with the phantom itch under his skin and the knowledge that all it would take was the sharp prick of one needle in the crook of his arm to make the world seem bearable again, to make the pain of everything they do -- and everything that has been done to him -- disappear. They’d trusted him and he’d let them down, and frankly, surviving had seemed like a cruelty rather than a mercy.

His fingers drift over a rich, burgundy silk tie, and dismiss it as too fine. The next, too bold. Long, elegant fingers move distractedly from one tie to the next, and he wonders what the hell he’s even thinking about doing. Sending a tie to Hotch, a little gift like it might make everything okay? Something expensive, like the money might alleviate the guilt?

Sorry I fucked up, sorry I wasted that faith in me, sorry that I wasn’t even brave enough to stay and face it. It’s not like they make cards for the occasion. It’s not like he’d be brave enough to send one, even if they did. A sigh, and his hand falls back down to his side. Giving up. Again.

@myrlins

[quarterleft-a]

myrlins replied to your post

BUT WHAT ABOUT THE EGGEGG

Please do not attempt to ride the Egg Egg. Egg Egg is fragile. Wrap him in a blanket, put him on a pillow, cuddle when necessary. Egg Egg has gone through a lot.

[quarterofamaster]

His heart beats out of his chest, rapid; the sound of blood in his ears with the echo of gunshots as tires screech in their getaway. He can’t look back, hunched over with laptop clutched to his chest in an attempt to ground himself-- somehow. 

Tanner drives with a leaded foot, mind scrambling to consider all possibilities, all safe houses they might escape to, anywhere not compromised. He’s being shouted at, asked if he’s alright, while hasty gaze is thrown to the back seat for quick confirmations. 

He’s alright-- he thinks, but adrenaline rushes through his veins along with the fear, the terror of having been shot at. 

He could hear Bond now, Occupational hazard; Q was never meant to be in the field, he was never meant to be the one being shot at. 

“I-- I have a place.” Offered of a stutter, hand reaching for Tanner’s shoulder whilst he’d still kept low in the back seat. “Please-- take me there.” 

He arrives at Merlin’s flat, winded, high-strung, laptop clutched to his side as knuckles rap against his once mentor’s door. There’s blood on his neck, pinpricks across his cheeks from shattered glass, but it’s all ignored, imagined to be sweat instead lest he panic. 

Though, too late, it seems.

His voice is rushed, spoken through a shallow exhale, “Hamish, it’s me, please-- let me in.” He lifts his knuckles to knock once more.

@myrlins