#if you hate freddie you hate women

[gayanddepraved]

rip freddie lounds you would have loved Chappell Roan

[driedbloodondeadflies]

i’m gonna come out and say it: i don’t find alana bloom annoying and the number of people saying that is misogynistic

[hannibalstink]

you guys are all "i support women's rights and wrongs" until it comes to her

[lonesomedotmp3]

the evil dead franchise is not good you're delusional. get well soon.

[seveneyesoup]

the thing about nbc hannibal was that hannibal lecter himself was such a like. bad person that it made it really obviously completely clear whenever anyone’s hate for characters on the show was just bigotry

[us3rnam3-r3dact3d]

Inspired by the latest Reductive Audio:

Lil useless facts about my fav boys/listeners. No hate if I didn’t include your fave, I was making my list off memory and am just now realizing I missed like… three entirely series worth of people.

Vincent

He prefers silver jewelry over gold, but doesn’t care if styles are meant for men or women. He likes what he likes and will wear it. He’s a particular fan of dainty necklaces and women’s wrist watches, but likes men’s rings better.

Sam

He smoked when he was human. Lucky Stripes, since they’re cheap. It was a bad habit he picked up when he was eight or so to cope with his home life. He lost the ability to be chemically addicted to nicotine when he was turned, but he still itches for a cigarette when he’s particularly stressed.

Alexis

She’s very jealous of Will’s attention. She gets twitchy when he’s paying attention to anybody else for too long. This results in spikes of her reckless and bad behavior. It started when Vincent was turned, then when he took in Porter, then when she turned Sam. The most recent was after the Inversion.

William

He cannot paint or draw to save his life. He’s followed five or six Bob Ross paintings, but they never turn out right. He can draw stick figures, but that’s about it. His penmanship is beautiful, though.

Porter

Will made him testify against his maker since Porter’s treatment was particularly brutal amongst Felix’s progeny. Porter didn’t want to, but he recounted every moment of Felix’s torture while being stared down by the man himself in front of the whole council. It was so damming that Felix invoked him to stop. That’s the moment that Porter still has nightmares about.

Lovely

Lovely is incredibly anxious around their human friends. They’re scared that they’ll lose control and hurt someone, even though they’re very well fed and haven’t shown any lack of control in the past. This results in a few months after the inversion that Freelancer thought they were dead, since they showed up on the casualty list.

Treasure

Their older brother is a humanborn freelancer. He’s an enforcer for the Department. They think that fits him well, since he was always sort of a bully growing up. Treasure themself is an investigative journalist who writes for an empowered newspaper. They were trying to get a table at the Monarchal Summit even before they met Porter, but that didn’t pan out.

Freddy

He played french horn in high school. He was pretty good, and was drum major in marching band his senior year. He threw up before every game because he was so nervous.

Bright Eyes

Singer/song writer. Y’all ever listened to the Mountain Goats??? That’s their shit. Slow moving acoustic guitar, songs about the most disturbing and distressing emotions humans are capable of surviving recorded on cassette. Singing at dead coffee shop open mics in the wee hours of the morning. Their voice is raspy and rough, but the texture just draws you into their even timber and perfect pitch. They’re a minor celebrity in Dahlia’s sad boy live music scene.

David

His hips and back hurt So Much all of the time. He figures out that it’s because he’s incredibly strong but not flexible in the slightest. An imbalance in those two factors can lead to a lot of pain. He starts doing yoga after the Inversion when it got really bad and it’s helped a ton. Plus, Angel does it with him, and he likes watching them bend into all of those poses in their tiny, skin tight shorts.

Asher

He keeps track of how much David weighs and makes sure he can comfortably lift and carry that much weight at the drop of a hat. At the end of every work out, he deadlifts David’s weight to make sure he can do it when already spent. He should have been carrying David after the Inversion, but he didn’t have the strength to do it even when not fucked up. He won’t let that happen again.

Milo

He needs reading glasses but refuses to wear them. He tried contacts but he can’t stand to put anything in his eye. So he just squints and struggles through. His phone’s text is blown up like a grandpa’s. David is so bothered that Milo won’t just… get glasses. He keeps passive aggressively offering to add Milo to their vision insurance plan.

Christian

He had a little crush on Asher in middle school that translated to teasing the shit out of him. Which, Asher being Asher, put him off and hurt his feelings. He’s well moved on but sometimes, when the sun catches Ash just right or he smiles that stupid, toothy smile, Christian mourns his own stupidity.

Arden

Desperately protective of Christian, especially after the Inversion. The first time Ash makes a light-hearted joke about Christian’s limp, Arden put his ass on the ground, despite Christian laughing at it.

Gabe

He drove a white Chevy Cameo with a red interior for most of his life. It was lovingly maintained, and since it’s such a rare model, he did all of the maintenance himself. After the crash, the truck was totaled. David still spent a few years trying to put it back together. He called it quits when he was working on the interior and found dried blood under the leather of the seats.

Angel

They have a small stuffed lamb that they’ve had since they were a baby. It’s beaten up, falling apart, and no longer the stark white it started out as. Lambie is kept in their bottom bedside drawer. They only pull him out when they can’t sleep. They were worried David would think it was weird, but he actually finds this more endearing than he can put into words.

Babe

They didn’t start talking until they were three. Their parents thought that they were nonverbal, and had started teaching them ASL as an alternative. Then one day at the breakfast table, they opened their mouth and started spouting full sentences. They taught Asher ASL and the two of them use it when they want a private moment in public/when Ash is overstimulated. (Side note; David also knows ASL, he took courses in high school. Very useful, he loves it. He does not love it when watching them flirt nastily in front of him.)

Sweetheart

They’ve had anxiety since they were a very young child, and it’s always been an internally-sourced thing rather than externally motivated. They recall the first time they ever got in trouble at school (first grade, for pushing a boy who had been tugging on their hair all through recess). They remember the first time they got a B (fifth grade, on a math test they studied for for hours). Their parents had high expectations, but Sweetheart was having panic attacks from the age of three. Definitely something ~chemical~ going on there.

Darlin

They feel pack bonds incredibly strongly. Their body reacts physically when someone in the pack is threatened or hurt, without them even having to think. They shiver when Sam calls them ‘mate.’ When David says something in his lovingly dubbed ‘alpha voice,’ they can’t help but listen. They knew Gabe was dead before they got the call. They thought Ash was dead during the Inversion because they felt David’s dread through the bond so strongly.

Avior

He’s unnerved by human’s tactile nature. Being in a body is strange for him, and he prefers Aria to Elegy (at least before meeting Starlight), so touch is an extreme sensation for him. Humans touch so much. He’s not opposed to it when it’s someone he knows, but handshakes are the bane of his existence.

Starlight

Halloween is their favorite holiday. They start decorating for it in August. They plan elaborate, complex costumes and parties. They desperately want to move into a house so that they can set up scary decorations and shit in their yard and hand out candy to trick-or-treaters. Avid lover of the Spirit Halloween animatronics. They go to Halloween Horror Nights every year.

Camelopardalis

He’s trained himself to use the human terms for things (ex: terra or earth instead of elegy) since some in the Department don’t like it when daemons use their terms. It means that he gets weird looks from other daemons when he talks to them. It’s an alienating feeling for sure.

Vega

He’s never tried human food. He never saw the appeal. What he doesn’t know is that he would absolutely Love dark chocolate if he tried it. He likely will never know.

Warden

Avid reader of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle comics. Just the comics, though. They don’t have an apartment in Elegy, but they do have a small storage unit where they keep their comics. They coalesced a few years before the comics starting their run, and for some reason, they just fell in love. Vega thinks this is silly and that they should be embarrassed, but they refuse to be.

Hush

He loves Popeye’s fried chicken sandwiches. Doc fed him one once and it blew his fucking mind. He won’t make them with magic, either, he insists that they don’t taste the same. Doc has started just getting gift cards for him to keep so he can get one whenever and doesn’t have to wait for them to give him money. He’s ravenous for those things.

Doc

They’re actually a warder, not a healer. Hush’s presence has encouraged them to refresh their healing knowledge, however. Even if he himself is difficult to hurt, he sort of invites chaos.

Morgan

He uses his foresight to see what the owner of his favorite little bodega down the street is going to have for breakfast every morning. It’s his little morning ritual and practice for his magic. He feels weird all day if he doesn’t do it.

Seer listener

Their sight is more potent and more clear than Morgan’s. They can give stark details, see full landscapes, and turn 360 deg in their vision and see the whole space. They also can hear what’s happening consistently, something that goes in and out for Morgan. He figures that they’re just more powerful than he is, something that makes them just the slightest bit uncomfortable.

Damien

Gets incredibly stressed on election days, whether for local, state, or national elections. He forces everyone he knows to vote, volunteers to shuttle people without cars, and has at times volunteered to be a poll worker. But elections make him anxious. He cares so much about the results. Huxley has recently instated a post 9pm ban on watching the news on election nights so that Dames will actually sleep and not stay up all night stressing.

Huxley

Does not eat beef. Not for religious reasons, but because of the impact of beef consumption on the environment. He’s about one step away from a full vegetarian, he just likes chicken and is concerned for his protein and vitamin intake. This is difficult for Damien, who loves nothing quite so much as a rare steak.

Lasko

He was forced to take piano lessons as a child. He hated it, but took them up to the point he left home. He’s still very good, and did get peer pressured into showing off at a random guitar center once while out with the D.A.M.N. crew. He nearly died of embarrassment.

Gavin

He has a collection of very pretty rosaries that he uses as jewelry. He is not religious, and if asked, cannot describe what a Catholic is to you. He likes to wear them around his neck, dipping over his body since his shirts always cut down to his navel. It makes people gasp and blush, which is his favorite effect to have on somebody. His fav one has beads made of mother of pearl and a little, golden crucifix on the end.

Freelancer

They love cheap Chinese buffets. They claim that, the lower the health rating, the better the taste. Their desire for krab rangoons is strong enough to pull them from the comfort of their home at 2 in the morning if the fancy strikes. Damien in particular is horrified by this, and keeps offering to cook them some actual Chinese food.

Dear (Lasko’s listener)

An all star volleyball player in high school and college. They were a setter, and took their team to nationals all four years of high school. They are on the starting line up all through college. When it gets brought up in their trip that Damien plays casually, they said they did too. And then absolutely creamed him.

[kasagia]

❄️️Warm my heart pt. 7❄️️

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/ The Darkling x fem! heartrender! reader Summary: The truth sets you free… sometimes even if you don't want it to. (Belated) Merry Christmas!! There is a one last part left to this story... Word Count: 4,3 k Taglist:@aoi-targaryen @budugu @flostvs1508 @chelseyyouraverageluigi ~•♤♤♤•~ Aleksander Morozova’s Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 6 ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 8 ~•♤♤♤•~

"Leave me alone, Fedyor!" you shout at the heartrender, who somehow managed to find you in the crowded city. Christmas was in a few days, and the residents of Os Alta took to the streets to buy the rest of the gifts at the last minute.

Tomorrow, you would have probably been among them too, picking up a gift for the general, if it weren't for the conversation with that old witch who tormented you in your youth when she was your mentor and trainer.

"C'mon, Y/N. We need to go back to the Little Palace."

Fedyor grabs your arm, trying to pull you away from the bar. But you don't let yourself be distracted from your place. Instead, you pour him a glass of alcohol and hand it to him, clinking your glass against his.

"How is it that the guy I like always turns out to be a red flag? Is it because of our keftas? Do we always end up with a man fitting our outfit?"

"Oh, saints... I thought you were a little more sober." he sighs and downs his drink, sitting down next to you. You lean against him, nuzzling into his shoulder as you continue your drunken accusations and complaints.

"I am sober! I am finally sober, Freddy!"

"Fedyor." he corrects you, smiling in amusement at your cute drunken state.

"Whatever." you say and drink a shot. "The point is... that men suck." you speak in a very serious tone, as if revealing a great secret to him.

"Hey!" he says, acting indignant and playfully pushing away from you. This makes you lose your balance a bit, and you grab the wooden bar counter with all your strength.

"Not you! I mean, not gays. Well, Ivan too, since you both argued, but… Ugh! You know what I mean." you lean on his shoulder as he tries to lead you out of the bar without you noticing.

"Yeah, I can imagine." he obediently agrees and puts your cloak on you before leading you out into the streets of Os Alta.

"What I want to say is that I am finally sober from my stupid feelings, crushes, and everything I was feeling since I've started to work with that damn bastard."

"Who the hell made you hate him so much?"

"Myself. And woman. A really wise woman. We should listen to women more!" you shout, hugging him tight as you lose your balance in a rush of emotions.

"Y/N. Let's get home. Before you fall and smash your head on the ground."

"I should've taken Zoya with me. She knows how to have fun. Not like others. And she also hates him! Alina probably too. We can start a club! The club: 'I hate the Darkling." you mumble in your drunken state, holding on to Fedyor for dear life as he leads you to the Little Palace.

He thanks all the saints above for not noticing that you two are passing through the gates of the palace.

"You don't hate him. You are just hurt for some reason. I can't tell why, but I guess you should go and talk with him about anything that happened."

"You have the right!" you agree with him enthusiastically, and he frowns in surprise. From the combative and defiant way you expressed your sudden aversion and hatred for the general in the bar, he expected you to fight him at all costs. "Let's go!" his eyes widen at your words, in realisation that you weren't on a peaceful path to reconciliation at all.

You push away from him and stagger towards the general's chambers.

"No! Y/N! Wait! Not now." he says panicked and runs after you. He grabs you by the collar and pulls you back before you hit the wall.

He sighs, realising that it won't be that easy for him to convince you to go to your own chambers instead of going and arguing with Kirigan.

Aleksander was returning from a meeting with the king, to which Ivan had dragged him. He was angry at this old fool for interfering in the affairs of him and the Little Palace. Or, actually, he was so angry that he had to leave your warm arms and soft lips to deal with this royal asshole for three hours.

All he wanted was to come back to you. He secretly hoped that maybe he would find you completely naked in his bed or in his warm bathtub, waiting for him.

But when he reached his chambers, he didn't find you at all.

"Y/N?" he asks as he comes inside. He walks past the war room and kncoks on the table in case you didn't hear him walking inisde. "Y/N?"

He looks into his library, his dressing room, his bedroom, and even his bathroom (yes, he was a fool who never gave up hope), but you are nowhere to be found.

"Y/N?!" he shouts, returning to the war room. His heartbeat sped up dramatically. You weren't here. You were supposed to wait for him.

Aleksander had to find you. You wouldn't just leave without leaving a note—nothing. On the other hand, he didn't notice any signs of a fight or a skirmish in his chambers. You simply vanished. You disappeared. Like you've never been here. Like all the moments he shared with you, they were only an imagination of his mad mind. For a moment, he felt like he had lost all his common sense.

He put on the kefta again, which he threw off as soon as he arrived. He was adjusting his collar when he stopped, alarmed, hearing a noise in the corridor.

Just in case, he summons his shadows and leaves the chamber with his black shadows dancing around his fingers. He leaned out slightly, scanning the corridor, ready to cut in half whoever dared to take you from him again. He sighs in relief when he sees you on Fedyor's shoulder as you say something to him.

For a moment, he was terrified. That they came for you again, that someone took you from him again, that something happened to you again and he wasn't there in time to save you... or that you wanted to run away from him and leave him like so many others.

Like Luda or Ulla.

"Y/N." he sighs with relief. Your eyes widen as you see him.

He was walking towards you, but he stopped when he saw betrayal, bitterness, and rage shining in your eyes instead of the loving gaze he used to receive.

But that wasn't what worried him most. That was your look—the same look he got from many people in his youth when they found out he was a shadow summoner. Except that your disgusted, angry look hurt him more than any of the people's glances at him, his mother's scoldings and taunts, or the wound from the blades they tried to kill him with.

He sees how you tense up at the sight of him, watching his every little move carefully. He felt anxious, a shiver running through him as he was greeted with your hostility instead of the sweet smile with which you said goodbye to him. And he had no idea where your change in attitude had come from.

Something was wrong…

"There it is! The liar! The bastard! The walking devil himself!" you shout, walking towards him.

You trip over your feet, and he automatically takes a few steps forward to catch you in his arms before you land on the floor. He looks at you carefully, and by the strong smell of alcohol coming from you and your flushed cheeks, he perceives your condition.

He completely forgot about your hostility. For now, his priority was keeping you safe and comfortable. Firstly, he just needed to understand the reason for your drunkenness. When it turns out that nothing terrible has happened (such as the sudden death of one of your family members), then he can cope with that sinister glint in your eyes that appears each time your gaze meets his.

"Is she just drunk or something bad happened?" he asks Fedyor, confused, as he finally get together enough to say something.

"YOU! That's what happened! You are the worst fucking man I have ever felt in love with." his heart skips a beat at your drunken confession. He wanted to hear it; he had secretly craved it for some time, but certainly not under these circumstances...

"C'mon, milaya. Let's take you to bed." he whispers, nodding at Fedyor to leave. Heartrender bows to him and heads towards his chambers, leaving you two alone. He gently hugs you and leads you back to his chambers.

You lean on him, and for a moment, everything seems okay as he sits you down on his bed and kneels in front of you to untie your shoes. But when your eyes meet his face again, you go into a kind of fury, kicking him and moving away from him as far as possible.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!"

"What happened to you?!" he asks, bursting out. He doesn't understand your sudden hostility, how your attitude towards him changed in a matter of minutes—hours, actually—and how suddenly all your love and affection just... stopped existing for him.

"You!" you shout, pointing your finger at him. You wobble on your feet, and at the last moment, he comes over to catch you. This time, you let him place you on his bed and take care of you.

"More details, please." he sighs in anguish, making sure you're comfortable for the rest of the night. Whatever wrong you think he's done, no matter how mad you are at him, he won't let you escape his watchful eye like this. He would keep you safe even if you pointed a damn shotgun at him.

"I had a really nice conversation with Baghra." he freezes, halfway through unbuttoning your coat. Baghra talked to you. His mother, who hated his insides. Various scenarios and stories that she could have told you run through his head. He's glad you're telling him that when you're drunk. At least this will give him time to prepare his counter-speech until you sober up and can have a serious conversation. He just hopes that Baghra hasn't had time to make you completely hate him and to turn you against him in the few hours he's been gone. "That's it, you lying traitor! I know everything!"

"Y/N... it's not what it looks like..."

"Of course! Yes! How was I so blind to fall for your lying tongue?! I believed your sad stories and cute, puppy-like eyes, like some stupid, naive girl. Ugh! I stayed with you for damn Christmas, so that you don't feel lonely and could enjoy the holidays for probably the first time in your damn life instead of visiting my little brother!"

He doesn't respond to your words. He just holds your hand and strokes it gently as you continue to drunkenly mutter whatever's on your mind. And he listens carefully, focusing his attention on all the noteworthy words that will help him understand at least a little about how you feel and how he can fix the mess that this mad witch called his mother has gotten him into.

"I just thought you would turn out to be a better man." you whisper disappointedly, snuggling into his pillow. He finds the sight both endearing and heartbreaking.

He sighs and presses a kiss on your forehead, running his hand through your hair as you sleep deeply.

He won't lose you. Many people turned away from him; he let many of them go; he also lost many, but you won't be one of them. He may be selfish, but he's fed up with loneliness, and with you... with you, he feels like a completely different person. Someone he was before centuries of life shaped him into the man he is now. A general who was supposed to take care only of his Grisha, no matter what. A man who knew that power was something that had to be tamed, something that could not be allowed to go uncontrolled, and with you, he had lost too much of that control lately.

He had to fix everything.

And the sight of your tears drying on your cheek and neck, where he had placed tender kisses hours earlier, made him realise where he needed to start.

"You're already crawling here? I thought you'd be chasing your precious little heart first." his mother said this as he stood at the entrance to her cottage. She was finishing packing. A few years ago, he would have thanked the Saints for finally getting rid of her, but now he was glad he had made it before she left.

"Did you think I would just let you leave? That I'll let you escape and hide in a hole while I put out the fires you start?"

"I don't need anyone's permission. Besides, I doubt you'll be able to put out this fire. This little girl is quite a gasoline. She didn't need much to understand what she got herself into. Or to run away." he laughs mockingly as he steps inside. He leaves the door open to get on her nerves.

"Then, with great pleasure, I am here to say that she is back and sleeping peacefully in my bed."

"Stupid girl." she mutters under her breath and closes her bag. She throws it over her shoulder and finally turns to face him. "And what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be keeping an eye on her? After all, she can tell your little secret to the Sun Summoner. And then your plans…"

"I trust her." he says confidently, staring defiantly at his mother. "She won't do anything against me." he adds, feeling the necklace you gave him under his kefta and remembering the countless times you stood by his side, the countless times you showed him your devotion and affection.

"She trusted Kirigan. Not Aleksander." she notices. Aleksander feels bile rising in his throat and uncertainty, but he quickly shakes off the feeling, knowing that causing it is the purpose of his mother's words. And he learned better than to continue listening to her poison.

"She will trust the real me too."

They both stare at each other, waiting to see who will give in and whose defence will be low enough to strike a blow. This was mainly how conversations with his mother went. Eternal strategies, planning the next step, careful observation, and most importantly, keeping a mask and not expressing any real feelings and thoughts.

Maybe if he hadn't created the fold, things would have been different between them. But it wasn't. And he didn't know what hurt him more—that he had lost his only support over the centuries or that he couldn't just let her go or hate her completely as she deserved.

"After you lied to her? I doubt it. Remember what I told you? That greedy man may be terrible, but..."

"But there is nothing like a mad woman." he finishes for her, rolling his eyes at her poor attempt to make him doubt or dislike you in any way. "I have nothing to worry about."

"Then you should watch out for her. She may be Grisha, but she's as dead as we are, as is Miss Starkov. It's easy for something to happen to your precious little second-in-command."

"Be careful with your words." he growls menacingly, taking a step towards her. He glares at her with his evil gaze, but it does nothing for her. He knows he won't hurt her, just as she won't attack him... at least not yet. "If you put her in harm's way... think about what I might do..." an unspoken threat hangs between them.

"You were pathetic. You are pathetic. And you will always be pathetic, Aleksander."

He almost flinches at her remark. The eternal dispute between them. About Aleksander's attachment to people. Even the most fragile and weak ones, when Baghra abandoned her own children when they were not strong enough... Like she did with Ulla.

"Just like you'll always be alone, mother." he points this out and is happy to see the slight change in her facial expression as her mocking smirk disappears from her face for a moment. His small victory.

Baghra doesn't respond to his words. Shadows engulf the cabin, and before he knows it, she is gone, leaving him alone inside. He clenches his fists and spreads the shadows with a sweeping movement of his hand. He sighs, wondering how much Baghra told you was true about him and how much she made up to paint him as a power-hungry monster in your eyes.

He returns to the Little Palace in the morning. He's waiting for you to wake up, trying to read some reports and finish writing orders, but he can't bring himself to do it. All he thinks about is you, what he will tell you, how you will react, and whether you will hate him like his mother wanted you to.

When you finally wake up, he feels both delighted that his torment is over and concerned that he will have to talk to you soon. He walks up to you and hands you a cup of water and some hangover medicine.

But you don't accept it from him. Instead, you stare at him uncertainly, distrust shining brightly in your eyes, piercing his heart. He swallows, trying to get rid of the feeling of pain.

"You are aware I am the same man I was 24 hours ago?" he asks jokingly, setting the glass and medications on the nightstand next to you. He doesn't sit on the bed; he stands next to it, giving you some space. He must act methodically and carefully. Approaching you like a deer… or stag.

"No, you are not." you say it stubbornly, glancing at the things he left on the bedside table.

You raise a glass and look at the drugs carefully. Fortunately, he refrains from snorting, disbelieving that Baghra only needed a few hours of conversation to turn you against him. YOU. The only person he showed the parts of Aleksander hidden deeply in the darkest parts of himself from the world.

"Y/N... please. I just want to talk."

"About what? How have you been lying to me?" she asks him hostilely, looking at him defiantly. He knows that look and attitude. He had seen you like this more than once, when you were interrogating the Fjerdans they had captured. He never wanted to be at their place. And there he was.

"About how can I fix the way you think about me because of my mother, who isn't as much of my fan as you can guess now?"

"Well, at least now I know who you inherited this attitude from." you huff, getting out of bed. You reach for your folded kefta on the chair he left for you and start to put it on yourself.

"I beg your pardon? I am nothing like her."

"You even wrinkle your nose in the same way when something irritates or annoys you." you point it out, and he chuckles bitterly, shaking his head as he walks over to you. It's not too close, though. After yesterday, he knows better than to try to treat you with the same tenderness as before. Even if he desperately wants to.

"It's been many years since I thought of us as being anything remotely similar... of course, instead of being shadow summoners, immortals, and Morozovas."

"Wait, Morozova? Like... like the stag of Morozova?"

"Yes. Like the stag of my grandfather." he admits, shocking you even more. He watches the gears in your head turn as you uncover the hidden truth, connecting the lies Baghra told you with what he managed to reveal to you about himself.

"So not only are you… a Black Heretic, but you're also Morozova's grandson?"

"Y/N... I know it can seem complicated for you..."

"No! No. Nothing is complicated. You... you created the fold. And now you chase the stag to get its bones so you can amplify your and Alina's power to have full control of the fold. To take control of Ravka and call yourself a king."

"That's... not exactly the truth." he says, taking a step towards you. You automatically move away from him, and he clenches his jaw in frustration and anger at his mother and you for so easily believing Baghra's words.

"And what should I've believed in? You've been lying to me all this time!"

"Telling you half a story is not the same as lying." he defends himself, now staring at you with an equally obstinate gaze as you both stubbornly stick to your opinion.

"Maybe in your point of view, but not in mine." he sighs at your words, running a hand through his hair. You see his shadows hovering in the corners of his chambers as he stares at you in annoyance.

"I do not understand your behaviour. Nothing happened. You know that I was slowly revealing pieces of myself and my past. I guess you didn't expect me to tell you right away that I am... a Black Heretic. That I had lived a hundred lives, that I had to be reborn each time as somebody else to keep my existence in hiding. What other choice did I have?"

"That's the problem, Aleksander, you don't see any other solutions. You go with what is easiest for you." he huffs furiously and walks over to you. You fall back, bumping into a wall.

"Yes, because fawning over the king for hundreds of years to keep my Grisha safe is the easiest thing to do. You have no idea what I went through to give my people what we have now. If it weren't for me, you would be running away from Ravkans, Fjerdans, Shu Hans, and other beasts that want us dead or experiment on us. You don't know what it's like to go hungry, to have no roof over your head, to fear every day for your life and the lives of your loved ones, to see them die, and to bury every single person you have ever cared about. And do you know why? Because thanks to me, Grisha are now treated better than animals." he's now standing exactly a step away from you, breathing heavily with anger as he glares at you defiantly. He doesn't touch you, but you feel his heavy breath on your cheek.

"Creating a golden cage from the fold will not make us safe. You cannot isolate yourself from all evil and danger. You have to fight it. I never thought you were a coward, Aleksander. Don't make me believe you're really someone else."

You manage to push him past so you can walk towards the exit. He grabs your elbow, stopping you from leaving. Not hard enough to bruise, but enough to make you stop right there.

"What are you going to do?" he asks after a moment of heavy silence between the two of you, staring intensely at the back of your head, waiting for any movement from you.

"Nothing. You are still my general. Besides, I doubt anyone would believe me if I tried to tell the world who you really are. And don't worry. I won't tell Alina that you want to claim her power to yourself."

"It's not like that at all…"

"DON'T." you say furiously and sharply, turning to him slowly to meet his gaze. It takes all of your strength to hold back your tears that are also shining in his eyes. “Don't lie to me anymore.”

"Milaya..." he whispers desperatly, trembling as he is reaching to cup your cheek in his hand, but you pull away from him before his fingertips can touch your skin.

"If you want to prove that Baghra lied, that you weren't pretending to be a boy hurt by the world just because you were looking for some sick feeling of comfort or normality from me... if you want to prove that I'm not another Luda for you, someone who only reminds you of your great love, then prove it to me. Prove that you are a better man than Baghra taught you to be and describes you."

"The world needs a monster to change, Y/N, not a saint or hero."

"You are good, Aleksander." you say, taking a step towards him and cupping his cheeks with both of your hands. His beard tickles you a little, but you don't mind as you stroke his skin with your thumbs, keeping those dark, teary irises focused entirely on you. "I see it every time. In your patience with the little Grisha, in your concern for the well-being of each of us, in how sweet and protective you are around the people you care about... in the fact that despite hundreds of years, you still have a fragment of humanity preserved. You don't have to be rough. You don't have to be evil and ruthless. Baghra taught you that you won't survive by showing weakness and taking care of the people you outlive, but you are not like her. You are not a monster. Please don't prove me wrong. Don't prove to me that you don't care who suffers, Ravkans, Fjerdans, or others, as long as you win and achieve your goal, however honourable and glorious it may seem." you whisper the last sentence shakily and tilt his head, pressing a tender kiss to his forehead. You close your eyes for a moment, absorbing his warmth and scent and memorising it.

You finally pull away from him and leave his chambers without looking back. He gives you a longing look and closes his eyes, letting out a shaky breath. His eyes land on the plans spread out on his war table.

And he can't help but wonder: Is everything he has worked for all these centuries worth standing utterly alone at the end of his glorious purpose?

[tourturedfolkloredepartment]

This! Let’s talk about the women of Hannibal for a second. As I stated before Hannibal is in both Hannibal and Will POV, so the characters we are seeing we are seeing them as how Will and Hannibal see them.

Like Alana. I see alot of Alana hate some people will say “well she gives off not like other girls vibes “ when she literally drinking a beer. I love Hannibal and Will as much as the next person (and yes i am aware Alana did not believe Will about Hannibal but that’s beside the point) but let’s not act like she wasn’t fucked over by Hannibal like everyone else was.

Or let’s talk freddie for example. We see her as a bitchy and not really likable why is that? Maybe because we are seeing Freddie through Hannibal and Will POV. Now imagine if we saw her or Alana through the POV of someone else it would be completely different.

(This is just my thoughts and opinions you don’t have to agree I’m just tired of seeing people hate on Women characters in Hannibal because they’re “annoying “ like yeah you don’t have to like them but still)

[emilysslvt]

Halloweekend

Halloween was always your favorite, and even though you were a college student studying to be an FBI agent, you always loved to party. Until your professor, Emily Prentiss, saw you extremely intoxicated.

happy halloween everyone, have a good day :) i'll enjoy it being high. веселиться 🥂

warnings: swearing, smut, drinking, smoking

Halloweekend was your favorite time of the year, to dressing up slutty, going to frat parties, and drinking like you're 16 all over again. Since you started criminology, you never really did stuff like that anymore. But your best friend begged and begged until you finally gave in.

She sat on your bed, waiting for you to show her your outfit. You didn't want to go too revealing, so you wore a skirt and a cropped shirt. You went as Freddy Krueger.

You told her to open her eyes, and she clapped. "Oh, yes! Finally, something other than your boring regular clothes. We are going to have the best night tonight!" She exclaimed.

You rolled your eyes at the comment, "thank you, Max. Just what I needed tonight. My professor has assigned a lot of work, and I need to relax." Picking up your purse, you held your hand out for Max and she gratefully took it.

"Professor Prentiss again? She never gives you a break! Always on your ass and no one else's." Max huffed, as you both left your dorms and made your way across campus.

You laughed slightly, "I know. Today she yelled at me because I was on my phone, but some kid was on his too and she didn't say anything to him. It was a text from my mom, I am usually never on it."

Max shrugged, "maybe she has a crush on you." You slapped her arm, and she laughed.

"Yeah, right. She's too professional for that. But I wouldn't be opposed to it, she's so fucking fine." You admitted. You always had a small crush on her, no matter how intimidating she was. In fact, that made her so much hotter.

You and Max continued your conversation until you got to the frat party. You easily got in, as you both knew who was in the frat. Plus, they loved young hot women.

As soon as you got in there, you were handed shots. Max hit her shot glass against yours, and you both downed them. It was like that for the next 3 hours. You had lost count on how many shots you had, and how many times you lost Max. She always did that at parties, you should've known by now.

It was almost 2am, and you had classes in the morning. Once you came to the realization, you made your way out of the house. Not without stumbling, and almost dropping all of your shit. You hated walking alone, but you knew Max was definitely with some guy. You were on your own for the night.

Half way to your dorm, you needed to sit down. You were tired, and about to pass out. You sat on the grass, grabbing a cigarette from your bag. You lit it, and sat there smoking. Yes, the grass was dirty and gross but you didn't care at the time.

"Y/n? Is that you?"

You heard your name, and you opened your eyes. You looked up at the mysterious woman standing in your view, and your mouth slightly dropped.

You put your sober face on, which wasn't convincing at all. "Oh shit. Professor Prentiss!"

"Y/n, what the hell are you doing outside at 2am smoking a fucking cigarette?" She asked, bending over to get a better view of you.

"Oh, well.. you know. Regular Saturday night." Your words slurred, barely making any sense.

Your professor looked frustrated, and she sighed. "Come on. Get up." She held her hand out for you, and you took it. As she pulled you up, you stumbled and dropped your cigarette.

You were sad, looking down at it. "Aw man. I can't believe I dropped it." As you went to pick it up, you almost fell right along with your cigarette. Your professor immediately grabbed your waist, holding you in place.

She sighed, holding you up. "How much did you fucking drink? Where is your dorm? And why are you walking by yourself? That's dangerous, and you out of all these students should know that." Your professor said, wrapping your arm around her shoulder.

"Hahaha I don't really know where my dorm is. And my friend is definitely being fucked by a frat guy right now." You said, giggling to yourself. You barely made any sense, but to yourself it made sense. Well, barely.

"How do you not kn- you know what? You'll stay at my house until you're sober." Your professors tone was off, she sounded pissed. But at the same time, you were too drunk to notice. Or care.

The rest of the night was a blur, you fell asleep on your professors bed but you couldn't remember that. You woke up the next morning, cursing at yourself from how bad your hangover was.

Once your eyes were able to open, you realized you weren't in your dorm. You started to panick, thinking the worst. Up until your professor walked in with a cup in her hand.

She made her way towards you, placing the cup in front of you. "Thought you might need this." You smiled, taking it from her and immediately drinking it. The warm feeling hitting your lips made you feel like a winter day when you had a snow day.

Your professor sat next to you, watching you closely. "Do you remember anything from last night?" You placed the cup on the nightstand next to her bed, as you tried to recollect your thoughts.

You shrugged, deciding to be honest. "I remember before the party. Half hour at the party. That's about it. I think I blacked out immediately. Max told me I needed to blow off some steam, and so I kept taking shot after shot."

She sighed, running her tongue along her lip as she pulled her lip between her teeth. Your eyes watched her tongue, as you always thought that was extremely hot.

"I found you outside around 2am, you were in the grass smoking a cigarette. You couldn't remember where your dorm was. I hope you know that was extremely dangerous, and there are other ways to blow off steam rather than drinking yourself to death." She went on. You knew she was right, and hearing what you did was a tad embarrassing. Now she knew you smoked, and that you were an idiot for forgetting your dorm room.

"And how do you blow off steam, professor?" You asked, tilting your head. She smirked, shaking her head. She avoided the question, and she stood up.

Your professor stood rather close to you, and you watched her eyes quickly dart from your chest back up to your eyes. "You have class in 45 minutes, would you like to go back to your dorm to get ready?"

"I asked you a question, professor. How do you blow off steam?" You were curious as to why she avoided the question. Plus, you didn't want to leave. The way she made you feel like a teenage girl every time her eye lingered your body, or the way she talked in a low tone.

She took a moment to think. Her lips parted, but no words came out. You watched the smirk form on her lips, "would you like me to show you?" You bit your lip nervously, watching as she leaned over you. You felt her breath on your neck, making you lean your head back a bit.

She grew impatient, waiting for your response. "You need to learn your lesson from last night, don't you think?" She whispered in your ear, as she bit the tip of your ear, sending chills down your spine.

You never wanted something so bad. Scratch that. Needed. "Yes, professor."

Her smirk grew, pushing you against her bed. You propped yourself up by your elbows, as she straddled your lap. "Perhaps you need to be punished?"

"I didn't do anything that bad to be punished, professor." You stated. You knew you did, but arguing with an older woman was always fun. And hot.

She leaned down, pressing her lips to your neck as her hand dragged down your body. "No? So getting drunk to forget your problems wasn't bad, hm?" Her lips grazed your neck, as she got closer to your lips. "Or walking by yourself at 2am? Becoming a profiler, you should know better than that." The gap between your lips was killing you. She was so close, but so far.

Her hand slipped under your cropped shirt, her finger grazed the bottom of your bra making you crave her touch even more. "Please touch me.."

With her free hand, she drew the outline of your jaw with her finger. "Do you think you deserve it?"

At this point? Yes. It was torture. The way she slightly touched you, turning you on by barely even touching you. "No.. but I need you." Your words came out in a whisper, but she was happy with the answer.

Your professor ran her hand along your neck, pushing your head to the side. "Tell me how bad you need me."

You were impatient, you needed her now. "Please touch me, professor. I need you. I crave your touch." You sounded pathetic, but professor Prentiss seemed to like it.

"Good girl." Her hand kept a grip on your neck as she slammed her lips against yours, her knee pushed your legs apart as she pressed it against where you needed her most. The kiss was filled with desperation and lust, the way she bit your bottom lip, how it felt so wrong but yet so right.

Her knee pushing against you made you softly moan against her lips, and you felt her smirk. You loved it when she did that. As she pulled away, she bit your bottom lip. You whined at the loss of contact, but her lips soon found your neck. Your hands found her hair as she sucked on your soft skin, leaving a hickey.

Her hand wandered down your stomach, until it found your the hem of your skirt. She slid her hand into your skirt, and she circled your clothed clit, as she lifted her head to whisper in your ear. "Can I touch you?"

"Yes. Please, touch me. Please."

"Needy, are we?" Her tone was low, filled with lust and dominance. You were so turned on, you needed her so fucking bad. You were pulled out of your thoughts when you felt her fingertips cirling your clit. Her pace was slow, painfully slow. You were so desperate and needy even though her lips were on your neck, and her fingers were on your clit.

Emily lifted her head, "take your shirt off." As she was still keeping her slow pace, you slightly lifted yourself up, pulling your shirt off. Her eyes immediately found your breasts, and with her free hand she unclipped it, letting it fall to the side of her bed.

Her pace sped up as she slightly leaned over, circling your nipple with her tongue before pulling it between her teeth. Soft moans left your mouth as she sucked on your nipple, and her fingers were working your clit. You never felt so good before, and it felt even better just by being fucked by your professor.

Your head fell fell backwards into the pillows as she slid one of her fingers inside of you, making you moan her name softly. Emily bit your nipple before she moved onto your next one, while she slid another finger inside of you. Her hand hit your clit, making you moan louder. Emily loved the sound that left your mouth, and she pushed her fingers deeper into you, hitting your g-spot.

You felt your orgasm approaching, feeling the familiar knot form in your stomach. "Oh, fuck.. I'm going to cum." The words came out in a stutter, as you had barely any thoughts. There was no response from the older women, she just fucked you deeper and faster. Moans and curse words left your mouth, you were so fucking close. Your back arched as you were on the edge of your orgasm, her hand brushing against your clit, her mouth sucking on your nipples, and her fingers so deep inside of you. You were about to cum, but Emily immediately stopped. She removed her fingers from inside of you, and she stopped sucking on your breasts as she looked up at you.

Your professor had her fingers in her mouth. She looked so fucking hot, but you were pissed. You needed that orgasm, and she just stopped.

She sucked her fingers clean, waiting for you to catch your breath. "That should teach you to behave, hm? Maybe next time I'll let you cum. As for now, we have class in ten." Her lips formed a smirk, as she leaned down, placing a kiss on your lips. You were mad at her, but her lips were so fucking soft.

As she pulled back, she bit your lip. "There's no time to go back to your dorm, so take a quick shower and meet me in class. Wear my clothes, because if you show up to class like that I'll have to punish you again."

You nodded, and she smiled. She placed a soft kiss on your forehead, and she got up. "After class, I'll be able to take care of you properly. I'll make it up to you, okay?" Her tone was soft, and it made you want her even more.

It was safe to say that wasn't a one time thing. Both of you enjoyed that too much. Maybe it was because it was wrong, but even then it felt right.

[mpov]

If female tears lower men's testosterone level then why is there so much hardcore porn? Don't get me wrong, I don't hate men and I don't agree with the OP of the post you reblogged but your statements just don't suit the reality very well. Men created a whole porn category based on abusing women and it's quite popular, so why would they do that if that doesn't turn them on but in fact the opposite? I agree that it's not all men but this also proves that not all men are pure and there's a bunch of them that actually enjoy the abuse of women.

I linked the article for a reason. It's not a visual cue, it's olfactory. While they may enjoy seeing those kinds of scenes acted out, most would not be able to stomach it in real life. The effect is from smelling the tears.

I love watching slasher films. I probably could not handle seeing someone killed in real life. I sure as hell couldn't kill for fun. I sure as hell wouldn't condone the actions of Chucky, Angela, Jason Vorhees, Mike Myers, Freddy, etc.

Those videos are produced in studios, with the actors names attached, and the directors. Why? Because videos of real abuse make people sick and uncomfortable. The people watching know it's an act, fantasy. Show them a video that isn't an act, and 99.99999% will be disgusted.

Hardcore just means penetration. Not violent or extreme.

Men didn't invent porn of any category. Society did, men and women together. Don't forget women consume this material as well. In both video and novel form. The most popular romance novels contain rape and abuse of their heroines by the love interest hero.

No one is claiming men are pure and innocent. Just that they aren't out of control slobbering rape monsters

[k-marzolf]

Hair Rollers & Doritos.

—warnings; roommate au, pet names, kissing?, fluff & stuff, fem!reader.

Word count; 550.

Tagging; @terry2227 @kayhi808 @e-dubbc11 @aoi-targaryen @snowkestrel @zz-kennedy @fictional-hooman @oops89 @thejanecampaign @vaguekayla @firexfate @rosaleenablack @russosafehaven @idaofinfinity @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @danzer8705 @littleblackcatinwonderland @disneyloverjaime @milea @bookloverfilmoholic @firequeensposts @gh0stf1c3 @ittybxttykxttytxtty

You threw yourself into his lap, glasses going askew and he laughed, fixing them. “Whoa, slow down, Velma.” He husked as you threw your legs over his knees, planting your iced coffee between your thighs.

You blew hair out of your face, “Velma?” You asked incredulously, narrowing your eyes at him.

He laughed.”From Scooby Doo. You remind me of her. Mostly calm under pressure, and smart as fuck.” He said, flicking your forehead.

You swatted at him. “I’m kinda dumb, love. I’d be the blonde to die first in a horror movie.” You grabbed his spicy chili Doritos, putting some in your mouth.

He didn’t believe that for a second. You’d figured out how to change your alternator after weeks of reading about it, every morning at breakfast, refusing to let Billy pay for the repairs, while you ate your toast with strawberry jam on it

“Excuse you?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, can I have some, Billy?” You asked, looking at him from under your lashes, hand still in the bag, making him swallow hard, his throat bobbing up and down.

He could never say no to you, except maybe to let Freddie Mercury, your hamster, on his bed. “Sure, Velma.” He teased you, ruffling your rollers.

“Hey, now! Don’t fudge with the process. Or I’ll come at you with a rolling pin.” Your glasses slipped down again, and you pushed them back up.

He laughed, “Wouldn’t wanna ruin a sleeping beauty’s hair.” He said, dodging the couch pillow. He kissed the corner of your mouth, tasting your iced coffee.

You ducked your head shyly, taking another fistful of Doritos in your mouth. He smiled against your cheek at your shyness. He usually hated shyness, mostly because he hated coyness. It was always used by other women to manipulate him.

But you were genuine.

“Like you don’t spend an hour on your hair every morning, love.” You retorted dryly.

Billy huffed a laugh, “It takes work to look this good.”

Your eyes slid over to his, as you licked your fingers, “So you don’t look that good naturally? Okay, Barbie,” you laughed, scooting closer, opening your iced coffee.

“I’m hunting Freddie Mercury for sport.” Billy grunted.

“Mean.” You said taking a drink, before flicking him on his nose.

He hummed, arm settling around you, wishing to crawl inside your heart and live there, warm and happy.

You fought him for the remote, and won (or rather he let you), finding The Mummy on some movie channel.

Later on, he watched you doze, pressed firmly against him on the couch, eyes fluttering. Your hair rollers pressed against his side, your empty bottle of iced coffee in the couch cushions. He had the temptation to take a photo of you with the rollers in. You were so goddamn cute.

His eyes drooped as he settled in, some infomercial playing quietly on the television now. It was late, and he rested his chin on your head, squishing your rollers, and smelling whatever spray you’d used on your hair. He was content, but he always waited for the other shoe to drop. Something always happened.

He never had a connection other than with Frank. But as he watched you demolish his Doritos, he thought he might have found someone in you.

[capseycartwright]

tidbit tuesday because i’m writing fic again and not only writing fic but enjoying writing fic therefore have the unstoppable impulse to share. ok good.

More than anything, Buck hated how no matter how he tried to intervene, everyone else still got the brunt of Gerrard’s ire, Buck’s sexuality not exactly a point in his favour, but a lesser offence than the mere existence of everyone else. Buck was not going to be a bystander, okay – Maddie had raised him better than that. So, Buck made a point to put himself between Gerrard, and everyone else. Gerrard tries to make Hen man behind? Buck volunteers to be man behind. Gerrard tries to get Chimney to cook dinner? Buck is behind the stove faster than Gerrard can finish his sentence. Gerrard tries to make Eddie clean down an already clean truck? Buck is in there grabbing the rags and spray.

Buck fucking hates Gerrard, and he hates the way that his presence is making his team – his family – feel. Before, they would reach the end of a shift, and someone would suggest breakfast and they’d walk around to the 24-hour dinner near the station and get French toast and drink too much coffee and Buck would feel like he belonged. Now, their shift ended, and everyone went their separate ways, none of them wanting to spend any more time than strictly necessary near the station – not until Bobby was reinstated, at least.

Which was why Buck was here – sitting in his car in a Trader Joe’s parking lot, at the most loose of loose ends. Tommy was on shift, and Buck didn’t quite feel they were at that point in their relationship yet, the one where Buck could just turn up whenever and hang out. He liked where they were – Buck wasn’t complaining about the state of their burgeoning relationship – but he didn’t want to do what he always did, and be too much, too soon.

Buck just didn’t want to go home. His loft was too big, and too quiet, and after another shift of constantly fighting with Gerrard, Buck didn’t want to be left alone with his own thoughts. So – he went to the grocery store, and bought ingredients to make Eddie’s favourite breakfast (sweet and savoury pancakes, the best of both worlds) and now he was standing in the doorway of Eddie’s house, watching as Eddie – sat on the floor crying?

It had been a weird year, and it didn’t feel like it was getting any less weird.

“Eddie?” Buck’s voice was gentle as he set his groceries down on the floor, closing the front door behind him. “What happened? What’s going on?”

Eddie, in his saddest, most Freddie Mercury like state, blinked owlishly at Buck. He was squeezing a ratty looking teddy bear Buck recognised as Sir Squish, a toy Eddie had bought for Christopher before his first deployment, the blue bear very much showing it’s thirteen years of age now. “I think I might be a misogynist.”

“There is – there is just so much to unpack there,” Buck eased himself onto the floor next to Eddie. “Eddie – you’re not a misogynist. You haven’t like – grown a mustache and become a bigot.”

That, at least, made Eddie snot out a laugh. Or maybe it was a wail – Buck wasn’t entirely sure. It might have been both. “An accidental misogynist,” he mumbled, sounding incredibly miserable. “I’ve been so mean to so many women – and all because I couldn’t accept who I am, Buck.”

Buck was pretty sure he could feel his heartbeat in his ass. “What do you mean?” he couldn’t help but ask – he was sure there was a kinder, gentler way to ask, but he hadn’t expected those exact words to come out of Eddie’s mouth, and Buck had only been actively queer for like, two months, and it’s not like he was given any sort of handbook for this.

(Maybe there was a handbook – Buck should check, next time he took Jee-yun to the library.)

Sir Squish was suffering quite the fate in Eddie’s death grip, his googly-eyes looking as though they were about to pop off and roll away, Eddie’s tears free-flowing as he roughly wiped at his face with the sleeve of his sweater. “I think I’m gay, Buck.” 

tagging @thatbuddie @clusterbuck @doeeyeseddie @hattalove @mellaithwen @littlespoonevan @sibylsleaves @like-the-rest-of-la and anyone else who fancies an excuse to share some fic

[xcherryerim]

Random canon things about novel Mike Schmidt for the super hyper fixated ppl:

— Mike rarely dated in high school.

— Mike likes building stuff.

— Mike has good smell sense. (Always points out how things / people smell. Said William smells like his damp basement from his childhood.) He hated the basement.

— Mike hates stratus clouds. (“All show and no substance.”)

— Mike fantasizes how his life would be different a lot. He even has a game called “What Would I Be Doing If I Was…?” where he images himself mostly as a contractor.

— Mike said the line “That’s two things” on purpose. (“That’s what it feels like to be messed with, Mike thought. Deal with it.”)

— Mike doesn’t wear cologne but smells nice. (“He smelled really good, not sweet like cologne or anything. He smelled like a man. Just clean and simple.”)

— Mike doesn’t like egg rolls.

— Mike gets easily flustered around pretty women.

Thank you so much for reading!

This is just a few things grabbed from the Five nights at Freddy’s novel. I might post another part eventually (I haven’t finished the book).

BY THE WAY Novel Mike is SASSY.

[panthera-tigris-venenata]

A bag of choice (tm)

Mal - she continuously causes Evie heart attacks by refusing to use any and all designer bags and even just the decent looking ones she gives her and using the same tattered old tote bag she found and improved when she was thirteen.

Evie - you know she has at least one from any occasion, and we love that for her.

Jay - pockets. Does he lose half the groceries he was supposed to buy? No, absolutely not, these items were never written down in the first place.

Carlos - I feel like his cousins suceeded in getting him reasonable bags. Criticism will NOT be accepted by any of the de Vils and also that thing somehow fits an entire toolbag.

Ben - ...auradon royal family merch :( he hates it :( (Mal quickly improved it for him. He loves that version to bits and his parents despise it just as much.)

Audrey - a small shiny clutch that fits barely a phone, a credit card, and lipgloss. Y'know, the essentials.

Chad - nope. No. He doesn't even bother to use his pockets, he loses his stuff all the time. Just. Puts it down and that's it.

Jane - very cute and very practical backpack with a little ribbon <3 and lot of cute added charms <3 we love our practical girlie <3

Lonnie - hmm. Probably a sports bag or backpack of choice. Secret compartments for reasons that are definitely NOT "war-induced generational paranoia".

Btw ALL VK bags have secret compartments, just so you know.

Uma - first of all, Uma rarely ever carries her own shit. Harry and Gil are being gentlemans and the rest of the crew is lowkey afraid for their own life if Harry saw that they let the Captain carry heavy things . Second of all, she got the crew tote bags with Lost Revenge logo.

Harry - ...yeah he forgets that bag all the time. That's fine tho, he has like not normal amount of pockets.

Gil - the crew logo bag but Claudine embroidered more decorations on it for him.

Claudine - she doesn't have vibes for a bag, okay? She can carry everything she needs without it. (...yeah, she doesn't carry ANY of the stuff most people do. Phone? Devil's machine. Keys? There's always people to let her in. Money? Ivy has those. Or Uma, or Harriet, or Gil. Someone will pay for her.)

Ivy - either a designer bag that SOMEHOW fits an entire bottle of whiskey, or she goes out without any means to carry anything, including pockets, cos designers hate women. She has cigarettes behind her ears, phone, money, and emotional support lipstick in her bra, keys strung on dress strap, and she keeps playing with the lighter. Flickering it on in a completely non-threatening way.

Diego - okay, all de Vil cousins deserve designer handbags. His prefered one is dark leather.

Anthony - he has a collection of bags he got as gifts. Dark leather one from Diego, crocheted one that Dulcia made when bedbound and refused to use, a bunch of bags decorated by his little cousins withvarious amount of sucess and glitter.

Dulcia - she also has a collection. Some designer ones that Audrey got bored of and passed to her through Anthony (displeased at having to play messenger), and lot of bags decorated by her little family members. Also a... Contraption gifted to her by the Hearts kids, she slightly afraid to touch it.

Dizzy - you know that thing is bedazzled enought to blind someone (affectionate)

Celia - you know, this little shadow witch manages without a bag just fine, it's like magic.

Freddie - not sure, either a cute hand-decorated tote, or whatever shiny thing CJ stole for her.

CJ - nope. She has slightly better record of losing shit than Chad, because she has shit ton of pockets in her coat, no reservations about sticking shit into her bra if she needs to, and slightly exasperated Freddie picking the stuff of value that she dropoed after her.

Harriet - it goes about like so: *already paying at the counter, realising she cannot carry all that shit with sheer power of will and hubris:* „...hey, Sam? Do you have a bag?“ (they always do)

Ginny - lol, a crocheted one from Dulcia that she complains about all the time but won't ditch. (She has sewed-on compartments for the actually important stuff on her clothes also)

[unabashednightmarepizza]

𝑆ℎ𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑤 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐵𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝐶ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑐𝑙𝑒𝑠, 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑆𝑢𝑟𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑒

Tagging: @augustwithquills , @bloody-mf-bsc

Liked by freddycarter1, benbarnes, vancityreynolds and 5,897,655 others

Y/N Y/L/N: This man unsettles me. Why the hell do you smile at me like a proud kid looking at his mom for praise?

We filmed the most gut-wrenching, soul-wrecking traumatic scene for your character.

You just know what you will be doing to the fans. You know their pain, and enjoy it and they are gonna come after you for therapy bills. Hope you are rich.

View 657,564 comments

User5: Freddy is just a sneaky cat. That's it. That's my comment.

User7: I don't wanna know the scene... yet again I have a guess .

User9: There is water... And Kaz's trauma includes water... We are, guys, once again...

User6: doomed. As usual.

User4: It's usual at this point, like I can't go on with my day without at least one tiny bit of drama

User3: Once again, mother Y/N is right. We all hope you are rich ASF Freddy.

freddycarter1: I could make Y/N pay for them?? She is the reason you guys cry

Y/N Y/L/N: don't bring me into this, Freddy. It's your fault, you have to deal with it. Or... I can tell your wife that you are bullying me😎

freddycarter1: you wouldn't dare! My wife loves me!

Y/N Y/L/N: Maybe... Not as much as me tho😉

User12: the way Y/N doesn't just conquer the women cast members' hearts but the male cast's wives as well...

User5: Teach us where this rizz comes from Y/N!

User6: Just Y/N and Ben casually making us fall in love with them

Liked by benbarnes, freddycarter1, amita_suman, jessie_mei_li and 6,573,435 others

Y/N Y/L/N: More memes!

1. Freddy is my one true love, and more attentive and mature and cares more about me.( this is definetly not my amazing,handsome, attentive and bullied boyfriend whom I should pay more attention to.)

2. This is what I was talking about! Look at hım and tell me you wouldn't immediately accept whatever mindblowing War crime he wants to commit together?

3. The only surprise element here is that I paid for the tickets... Even if they were the ones who went to to cinema.

View 566,564 comments

User1: Ben is being a gremlin again by taking her phone... Again.

Y/N Y/L/N: See? Everyone else is very mad at you benbarnes 😒

User5: Y/N show some love to poor boi 😭

User9: Ben is struggling so much djsjsh

User8: he is like a puppy following her around dnjd Have you seen the BTS of shadow and bone? He is always looming behind her and looking over her shoulder to get a glimpse 🥹🤭

User4: We love men who respects and shows his love openly to their lover😎

User6: Istg they want me to put a toast in the tub and live there like that by how cute they are being... look at her giggles and wide smile through her Insta posts after they got together and say otherwise

User9: They really are the best for each other and they are so cute, so supportive of each other and you can also see the Ben's grin is wider and shinier too!

User14: Being the "sugar mommy" of them is Y/N's fate now...

freddycarter1: I didn't hear any complaints from her.

User2: She has all the tittles now, the only one missing is... The Milf 💫

User14: That could change at any moment and we wouldn't know...

User3: 😳

Y/N Y/L/N: First all, no one can be like me... Or else you would be in constant hunger because you two can't cook to save your lives.

benbarnes: my cooking isn't that bad... Right?

Y/N Y/L/N: Could have been worse.

User6: Y/N does he use that kicked puppy eyes on you too?

Y/N Y/L/N: Whenever he wants kisses... Which means all the time. But I have no complaints, I love kissing hım.

User6: So it works?

Y/N Y/L/N: It works wonders.

Liked by benbarnes, freddycarter1,zendaya and 6,899,790 others

Y/N Y/L/N: Not my fault that they are living moods

1: Me, when they show me the most shocking, spectacular,eye-burning, gut-wrenching,soul-wrecking, traumatic script ever

2. Also me, whenever I look at my boys. And yes, though I always say I hate them here, I love them all so much. I'd probably commit arson for them if they asked but... Yeah.

3. Yes, you saw it right. He took my phone again 😑Like,why do you have your's if you always use mine?

View 678,768 comments

freddycarter1: does that script include us??

Y/N Y/L/N: I don't know...😳���

jacktwolfe: I say we give her candy she loves so she can't resist and then take the script and run away when she isn't looking 😊

Y/N Y/L/N: Jack what the fuck? Get out of your Wylan head.

User5: I'M BEGGING IN THE NAME OF OUR LORD AND SAVIOUR, Y/N HAVE MERCY ON OUR SOULS😭

User8: indeed, we finally saw that she had a heart and It's full of love for the boys too... Just not as much as the women

freddycarter1: mind you, this is the best thing that had ever been told to me... I STILL prefer Ben tho

Y/N Y/L/N: All my hardwork was for nothing... But legit anyways, I'd choose my baby too

User5: does it ever bother how Freddy is just you in another font, Y/N?

Y/N Y/L/N: He can do all he wants... I'm the only one who sees Ben in... different light🤭

User6: HOLY SMOKES-

User9: Y/N just casually dropping hints on their private life is just... Golden djsndbdv

User1: Fr she and Freddy are fighting for Ben's hand jddjjd

User7: Considering the rest of the books and knowing all the scenes by heart now... And adding Y/N cinematography...

User1: we're doomed.

User6: Will go and make a confession to the local church now, for the person I'll become when that happens

Y/N Y/L/N: Calahan is keeping me in a headlock so that I would backdown from my heart-tearing plans... I HAVE YOUR PICTURES WITH A TIARA AND TUTUS, FREDDY AND CALAHAN! Don't make me share them

User5: Poor Y/N... Keep doing it Calahan, just a few more minutes, I live close to her. I can just grab that script and run away

freddycarter1: benbarnes please leash your chihuahua of a girlfriend before we spoil your plans

Y/N Y/L/N: what surprise? Ben is planning something behind my back?? benbarnes, what do you have to defend yourself? 🤨

benbarnes: I will kill you when I'm done running from my girlfriend, Carter...

Y/NandBen.fanpage: GUYS GUYS GUYS, I THINK IT'S FINALLY HAPPENING OMG-

Liked by benbarnes, shadowandbone, amita_suman, jessie_mei_li, blakelively, tchalamet and 9,896,798 others

Y/N Y/L/N: GUESS WHO IS BECOMING A BARNES?🤭

Oh, and @ user3? You are a Seer, that's for sure. Thank you for calling dibs on our marriage, lovie!

And to everyone who always said we were cheaters: İt must SUCK to be with yall because you don't trust your lovers! 😎🫳🎤

View 998,789 comments

benbarnes: You are so beautiful, my ex-girlfriend...

Y/N Y/L/N: Stop saying that, idiot... And, oh... I am beautiful? 🥹🤭

User6: OMG CRYING, SHITTING TEARS WTF THIS IS SO CUTE DJDJSJS

User9: Y/N and Ben are both melting for each other and OMG I'm crying too 🥹

User5: for a fact, I just know that these two cried and still is crying tons while cuddling and reading our messages

Y/N Y/L/N: Do you have cameras in our house??

User7: SOMEONE MAKE SURE USER3 IS ALIVE BECAUSE GOD KNOWS I WOULDN'T BE IF BEN AND Y/N MENTIONED ME

User3: I'M INDEED NOT OKAY I'M ALIVE BUT BARELY BREATHING WTF I WASN'T EXPECTING THIS

User6: YOU ARE LIVING OUR DREAMS!! *shake shoulder harshly* HOW DOES IT FEEL LIKE TO BE THE IT GIRL?!

User8: Someone keep that fucking hater away from here or else there will be millions, including celebrities, who will throw hands!

User2: I think they will not be here because if mother Y/N dissed me like that, I would have found a hole and never get out.

User5: When I tell you I am at my granny's funeral and trying so hard to control my giggles... THE FIGHT IS REAL

User8: We have a holy knight here, hang in there sis! We still need to see their wedding photos!

User10: what's even funnier is that "Ben Barnes I hope you can fight" tag is trending in Twitter lol

blakelively: look at that excited smile! Finally, you are joining the married life! Welcome to club 🤭

User4: Today folks, we all can rest in peace for we achieved what we always wanted for 3 years 😌

amita_suman: beautiful people ❤️ Love you both so much!

freddycarter1: Does that mean we call her Barnes too?

jessie_mei_li: Yes, since they are the mom and dad 😒 Is that even a question?

kittheyounger: we are all united under one holy flag: The Barnes' Holy Kingdom

User15: After 3 years, Ben Barnes finally put that ring on her finger. A day to celebrate for years to come indeed.

tchalamet: Congrats to my favourite director!

Y/N Y/L/N: Don't let Greta hear that Ti 😉

tchalamet: she would say the exact same

User17: DAYUMN THAT RING IS THE SAME SIZE AS MY HEAD HOW RICH ARE YOU BEN?!

User16: Just like that, we achieved it. Now, there is one last thing needed: A mini Ben-Y/N

[good-omens-headcanons]

CW/TW: Long headconon (could also be seen as a fanfic prompt), very sad, HIV crisis, losing people

I headconon that Crowley made a bunch of queer friends in the 70s and 80s in different queer clubs, pubs and pride parades.

And when the HIV crisis started he was among those queer women who supported gay men and went to protests. During his work there he was the one who cheered people up, gave people a shoulder to cry on and was regularly getting into rows/fights with judgmental people. He is fondly remembered by the old queers for what he did.

But he often visited Aziraphale then and it happened several times that he just fell on his knees, buried his head in Aziraphale's lap, grabbing his clothes and absolutely bawling his eyes out. Not just because his friends were dying (he got used to that over the centuries) but because they were dying fast and young, a lot of them were dying alone, left by their families and judgmental friends, because of the stigma, the treatment by doctors, the hopelessness, because there was nothing he could do, was allowed to do.

And Aziraphale did his best to comfort Crowley. Petting his head, hugging him, holding him, letting him just release all his pain. After that Crowley would often apologize for messing up Aziraphale clothes with tears and snot. But Aziraphale would just dismiss that and gently take his hand, pulling him to the backroom to make some tea, before Crowley could shut his emotions out from him.

However when Freddie died, Crowley entered the bookshop, one nearly empty bottle of whiskey in his hand, utterly drunk and slurred "He's dead". As Aziraphale rose out of his chair to comfort him, gently saying "Oh Crowley", Crowley took the last sip of his whiskey, put the empty bottle on a shelf, turned around and left. Aziraphale didn't see him for the next 9 months. No one at the hospital he volunteered at saw him either. Upon Aziraphale seeing him again and asking where he had been, he just acted like Aziraphale hasn't said anything at all. Aziraphale never asked again and strongly avoids talking about the time of the HIV crisis and the illness and death of Crowley's best friend.

Sometimes now Crowley talks about what he and Freddie got up to at parties. Sometimes Crowley talks about something that happens in pop culture and music and says "Freddie would have loved that" then usually the atmosphere visibly changes and Aziraphale awkwardly finds another topic to talk about.