Latest Posts by carrotsarelies - Page 4

I find so funny that when Mirabel sees Bruno he just... runs away dramatically. I mean, dude, where are you going? What's your goal? Are you trying to lost her and then go to your room? And then what??

Mirabel only has to follow the linear path and eventually she would find a door inside the walls.

↳ family trees + House of York, Tudor & Stuart (15th - 17th century)

Neil: *sticks Andrew’s hand under his shirt*

.

Wymack:

Duolingo bimboification

→ Quotes from Wayward Son by Rainbow Rowell

follow the link for more!

Barbie, The Plastic Religion by Marianela Perelli and Pool Paolini (2014)

Y’all being pregnant while moving into a new house is BUCKWILD

My husband is an intelligent man, but he has gotten in his head that if I lift one box I will PERISH

Neil Josten wears a gold band around his left ring finger and is absolutely cheating on his partner.

Before he ever joined the Santa Fe Cougars, Josten was part of a pride campaign for Nike. So was Andrew Minyard. It was a big deal. The interviews around it said every athlete in the campaign was LGBTQ. Josten talked about his husband. Minyard talked about queer foster kids.

That, the Cougars speculate, is where Josten and Minyard reconnected. They went to college together, separated when Minyard moved to Santa Fe and Josten moved to Jersey, saw each other again at this campaign, and then, a year later, were on the same team again.

None of the Cougars have ever met Josten’s husband. Even at team parties, Josten never brings him around. Probably he thinks it would be too risky.

None of them have gotten close enough to Minyard to figure out his relationship status. But, the Cougars collectively believe, Minyard’s relationship status can only possibly make a bad situation worse.

Keep reading

OMFG the guy who plays Hardin in After played young Tom Riddle

fear street 1994 in a nutshell:

Bridgerton siblings as Brooklyn 99:

Anthony:

Benedict:

Colin:

Daphne:

Eloise:

Francesca:

Gregory:

Hyacinth:

there are animals called dikdiks

Part One   Part Two   Part Three   Part Four   Part Five   Part Six   Part Seven

Sometimes you gotta be blunt.

Next parts will update on my Patreon as I complete them.

“But if you forget to reblog Madame Zeroni, you and your family will be cursed for always and eternity.”

Hi! I love your writing and adore your Fivan one shots so if your still taking prompts I would love to see one where everyone in the little palace ( Genya, Zoya, The Darling etc ) finds out about Fivans relationship. Please and thank you!

Aha, my request for prompts was quite a while ago, but since I can never resist the opportunity for Shenanigans, especially of the Fivan variety, here you go.

Nadia finds out first. She, in fact, does not even need to be actually told. Fedyor is creeping down the stairs in the early morning with tousled hair and a kefta that has spent all night on the floor of Ivan's bedroom, mind filled with nothing but jumbled images and sensations and oh Saints did that finally really happen?, and as a result, is not paying attention in the least to where he is going. He walks bang into his friend, there is a mutual moment of consternation as they stumble backward and clutch their heads and apologize, and then Nadia gets a good look. Fedyor has tried to arrange his collar to hide the most obvious bites, but it doesn't matter. Her eyes go wide as saucers. "Oh my," she says. "Did it finally happen?"

"Did... what... finally happen?"

"Fedyor Kaminsky, don't even try that." Nadia points a finger at him. "You know damn well what I'm talking about."

Fedyor looks at the floor, which doesn't help. A small smile starts to overtake his mouth. This is as good as hiring the entire First Army drum-and-trumpet brigade to parade around announcing the news, he knows, but he can't help it. "Maybe."

"Maybe." Nadia utters a scoff that is twice her size. "That is a question with a yes-or-no answer, you idiot."

Fedyor's lips pull wider. So do Nadia's.

"Oh," she crows, punching the air. "I knew it."

-----

Zoya, Ivan's old nemesis from training and their shared but completely exclusive belief that Kirigan should pay attention only to their advice at all times, also picks it up by inference. In her case, it's because she sees Ivan actually smiling when Fedyor is standing closely next to him, filling him in on some item of Heartrender miscellany, rather than looking as if this is the worst thing to happen in his entire life. When Fedyor touches Ivan's wrist briefly and slips off, Zoya's suspicions are confirmed. She stomps up and demands, "Really?"

Ivan whirls around, sees her, and glares. "Did you need something?"

"Fedyor?" Zoya still hasn't processed. "But he's so nice! Did he hit his head or wake up having forgotten his entire life to this date? I'm having a hard time thinking what else he can possibly see in you."

Ivan crosses his arms across his chest, fixing her with an even greater stare of total death, but she refuses to back down. "I don't know what you're talking about, Nazyalensky," he barks. "If you're not going to train that new cohort of Squallers, then -- "

"Fine." Zoya turns on her heel, then adds over her shoulder, "He's much too good for you, you know."

Ivan stares at her implacably. He does not, however, deny either this fact or the reason for it, and Zoya, smugly, takes that as a win.

------

Genya knows soon too, but then, Genya knows more or less everything that happens in the Little Palace by virtue of her position. The queen and her ladies are very gossipy, and when one of the younger ones starts going on about that Fedyor Kaminsky, he's such a dish, so handsome, what's his situation, Genya feels obliged to speak up and provide some gentle clarification. "I'm afraid he's already taken," she says. "And you won't want to tangle with his partner. It's... well, it's Ivan, the general's right-hand man."

The reactions, of course, are predictable: "Ivan?" spoken in increasingly incredulous tones. "Ivan? Ivan! IVAN. IVAN?!!"

"But he's so...." one of the ladies protests. "So terribly rude."

Genya smothers a wry smile. "Apparently Fedyor doesn't mind."

-------

Kirigan finds out last, and most mortifyingly. Fedyor and Ivan have been together for four months at this point, are returning to the Little Palace from their first separation as a couple and have some making up for lost time to do. They have not managed to make it to a bedroom and are getting started on said actions on the wall of a nearby antechamber, when Kirigan thinks of something he apparently forgot to tell Ivan on the road and pushes the door open imperiously, not bothering to knock. "Ivan! If those Fjerdans were already at Arkesk, then we need to -- "

There is a monumentally panicked scramble as Ivan, the stern, unflappable, terrifying Heartrender captain of the Second Army physically dives away, hits the ground, rolls over and over while frantically trying to lace his trousers up, and Fedyor has lunged with equal dispatch behind a sofa. There he crouches, likewise attempting in vain to restore his clothing, as Kirigan comes to a halt and looks around quizzically. "Ivan?"

"Moi... soverenyi," Ivan pants, climbing to his feet and brushing floor dust off his kefta. "I did not -- I thought you were -- "

"I seem to have interrupted something?" Kirigan arches a sleek dark brow. He catches sight of Fedyor, then shakes his head. "Oh, Ivan. You really could do better."

At the look of pure rage on Ivan's face, a look he has never seen before in relation to him, the Black General blinks, and even he thinks better of picking this fight. "Ah," he says. "My apologies. Congratulations, of course. I hope you two will be very happy."

I can’t believe people think that the lgbtq+ agenda is being shoved down our throats even though there are currently three kissing booth movies

What are your favourite ao3 sexter fics?

anon ily so much. here u go mwah

arsenic and old friends by mielipieli - AHHHHHHHHHHHH. that time when erskine poisoned saracen to learn his discipline except saracen is actually a sensitive. CONCERNED DEXTER! this fic makes me want to kill people its so good. one of my fave dead men fics in general

way down we go by dafirenze and jackswest - i thought this was a cowboy au. its not but its still very good! unfinished as of now, and the secter doesnt get very far (and both are introduced much later) but i am a sucker for period typical internalised homophobia <3 all the characters are super interesting (but larrikin isnt there)

(everything past this is just listed by when it was uploaded to ao3)

you and me by wildeisms - POST TDOTL FLUFF!!! no angst here baby only jokes and recovery

the bet by klstarre - actually i rec all of klstarres sexter fics but this one is less angsty more humour and i like it :3

aries rising by astrodisea - i promise im nearly done with the post tdotl fics i just really like them. more recovery fluff!

lord vexington by protectoroffaeries - i am not one for hp aus but! i thought this one was really cute! maybe im biased cause i think dexters cute but. oh well

on good terms by cirrusgrey - MORE RECOV- im kidding. post night of knives, the joys of miscommunication!

lie to me - ITS NOT ANGSTY I PROMISE its very cute, pre canon sexter reminiscing :3

smoke gets in your eyes by soupmetaphors - YES YESYESYES. preslash reimagining of how saracen and dexter met. very very nice ending scene :D

out in the open by sunflower_saracen - you can never have enough post todtl healing. very sweet. im running out of descriptors

better to have three februaries than a spring like this by printedwithsoyink - reunion fics. mmmm. ive reread this one a lot, set during the first book. healing i think!

my heart will barefaced lie by carloabay - MORE WAR ERA FIC YAY i love pining

star-crossed by swordfaery - the only sow fic! this is just part of sow from saracens pov it hurts me but its still cute somehow

Incorrect quotes: Alec and Jace Edition

Captain Holt off duty

YOU hates terfs

Is this the eh-ehhh one? Yeah. Yeah. Some people say some stupid things, though.

“I haven’t danced in so long,” Saracen whispered, burying his face into Dexter’s chest. The sound of a piano echoed through the room, though in reality it was just a recording being played from Dexter’s phone.

“Me neither,” Dexter breathed, “I can’t remember the last time we’ve had peace and quiet.”

“I know,” Saracen affirmed, “We fight so hard.”

“And we deserve a break.”

Saracen nodded, and Dexter lifted his arm to spin him, and accidentally, Saracen misstepped, and his foot met Dexter’s toe. Instead of letting go, though, Dexter laughed and gripped Saracen tightly.

“Oh, sorry!” Saracen laughed.

Dexter shook his head, “You don’t sound sorry!”

Saracen stepped on him again, laughing, “I’m not.”

Dexter grinned and stomped on Saracen’s foot, gentle enough not to hurt him, “Ow! You did that on purpose!” Saracen kicked out, but Dexter leaned down and grabbed him, and picked him up.

“Hey!” Saracen cried, “What happened to dancing?”

“You tried to kick me!” Dexter exclaimed.

“You started it!”

Dexter ignored him and threw him onto the bed, and climbed up onto his waist. Saracen wrapped his arms around Dexter, who leaned down to kiss him, and whose hands were tightly gripping Saracen’s waist and travelling up his shirt.

“So much for dancing,” Saracen gasped, feeling the warmth of Dexter’s hands on his skin. Dexter laughed and kissed him again, but then he lowered himself beside Saracen.

“It’s late. We should sleep,” Dexter said, running his hands through Saracen’s hair, and Saracen rested his head on Dexter’s chest, and snuggled up to him.

“Fine,” Saracen muttered, having been looking forward to a long night.

Dexter, amused, said, “It’s okay. We have all day tomorrow.

reblog if your name isn't Amanda.

2,121,566 people are not Amanda and counting!

We’ll find you Amanda.

Red, White, and Royal Blue out of context

oh and this one because i love pain: having to watch your lover die, as you’re restrained by the antagonist, unable to fight your way out of their grip, yet your eyes are glued on your lover’s

(@sparklingrainbowdragon you asked for this too so, tagging you here!)

I am very sorry in advance for this. Read below the cut!

--

"Sir. We have captured some of the deserters."

Ivan turned around to look at Galina, his second-in-command, as she walked into the strategy room. She looked rumpled, as if it's taken a lot out of her to capture the rogue Grisha. Possibly, Ivan thought with satisfaction, that meant her squad had caught a lot of them.

"How many?" He asked, and raised an eyebrow when he saw her shift her weight from one foot to the other. "Well?"

"Just... Just two of them, sir." Her heartbeat spiked up dangerously, and Ivan wondered if she was afraid he would reprimand her for not bringing in more captives.

"Well then." He said strictly, but not as cold as he would have usually been. "That's still something worth reporting to the General."

"Sir..." Galina swallowed. "Sir, one of then is- we- we have captured Fedyor Kaminsky."

Ivan stood very, very still. For a moment, he thought it was Galina's heart pounding against her chest like a caged bird trying to be freed; then he slowly realised, the sound of blood rushing in his ears, was his own.

He stalked past Galina and was out of the tent before he could check himself. Another of his Grisha threw a pitying glance at him, but Ivan hardly registered it. It didn't matter. None of it mattered.

Fedyor had been thrown into one of the Fabrikator-enforced cages, with a set of sturdy, iron cuffs clamped around his wrists. He sat slumped next to the second captive Grisha (an unconscious young girl who Ivan didn't recognise), but when he picked up Ivan's heartbeat his head shot up like a deer caught in the firelight. Those warm, brown eyes widened impossibly, and to Ivan's shock, he smiled.

"Vanya!" He said, his voice as soft and warm and loving as it had always been. Ivan nearly threw himself on the metal bars, his hand reaching through the gaps as if to reach Fedyor.

There was no need for words; their hearts did the talking. Besides, there wasn't anything they could have said. Not in this situation.

Fedyor didn't move, but he leaned closer to the bars. Belatedly, Ivan realised his right leg was bent in a strange angle underneath him. He cursed under his breath.

"Who did this to you?" He hissed, a spark of his old fierce protectiveness bubbling to the surface. Fedyor shrugged.

"One of the oprichniki decided I wasn't being cooperative enough while we were being transported here."

Of course he hadn't been. Ivan would have been proud of him had it not ended like that. He made a mental note of finding the oprichnik in question and tanning their arse so hard they wouldn't be able to sit for days.

"Does it hurt?" Ivan askes uselessly.

"A bit." The words were breathed out softly; Fedyor was good at masking his pain, but Ivan knew him too well. He knew he was in agony. He longed to lay his hand on Fedyor's knee, ease his pain, call a healer. But... He couldn't. And Fedyor wouldn't want his pity.

Ivan blinked the sudden wetness away and shifted his attention at the other Grisha. "And she?"

"Her name is Mariya." Fedyor said fondly, and for a moment Ivan felt a pang of jealousy. Then he realised Fedyor's heart beat for her the same way it had done for Nina. Protective, a mentor. His shoulders relaxed against his will.

"She was knocked unconscious by one of the Heartrenders. But she'll be okay, I think. Until..."

'Until we're sentenced to death and executed for high treason.' Ivan knew he would have to be the one to pass the sentence. The General wasn't going to let him off the hook for sentimentalities.

"Saints, Fedya." Ivan sat on the ground so he could be at level with the other man. "Why didn't you leave? Why didn't you go to Ketterdam or something?"

"I'm sorry, Vanya." Fedyor said softly, and sounded like he meant it. "I couldn't leave Alina. I couldn't leave Ravka to Kirigan's mercy."

Not the General's. Whatever respect Fedyor had once held for that man, had vanished into thin air. The worst was, Ivan found that he couldn't blame him.

"You should have left." Was all he said, uselessly. It didn't matter anymore. His husband was going to die. And he would be the cause of it.

Fedyor shifted awkwardly as if trying to pass one of his hands through the bars. It was hard with the cuffs on, but in the end he managed to slip his fingers out, towards Ivan's. Ivan quickly held his hand out to hold them.

"It's alright, Vanyusha." Fedyor whispered as their heads leaned close to each other. "We both made a choice. I'm glad to die for it."

"I'm not!" Ivan blurted. "Saints, I don't want to lose you!"

He already had, in a sense. But at least he'd known Fedyor was out there, alive, possibly happy. This... This was different. Permanent.

"I love you." Fedyor replied simply, his eyes twinkling in the twilight. "You know that, yeah?"

"Of course. And I love you too. More- More than anything else, Fedyenka." Ivan said softly. He didn't say more; he knew he wouldn't be able to keep his voice steady.

"Can you stay?" Fedyor asked. "If only for a little while. My leg hurts."

The simple admittance broke Ivan, along with the knowledge he couldn't do anything to help. He let out a choked sob, gripping Fedyor's cuffed hand tighter.

"I will. I promise I will."

---

"Mariya Abramova Svetaeva, and Fedyor Alexeivitch Kaminsky, you are hereby sentenced to death for the crime of high treason against the Second Army, the Grisha, and Ravka as a whole."

Kirigan's voice echoed like the drop of a hammer in the silence of the evening, that was only interrupted by Mariya's muffled whimpers as she cried. Fedyor spoke softly to her, trying to comfort her.

"Silence." The oprichnik that held him hissed, and punctuated the order with a swift kick on the Grisha's broken leg. Fedyor couldn't swallow back a short cry of pain as he nearly crumpled to the ground, and Ivan felt hot rage building up inside of him.

"Soldier." He snapped. "You will not attempt to harm the prisoners before the passing of the sentence."

The oprichnik muttered something about lovesickness and lack of conviction, but Ivan elected to ignore it. Kirigan cleared his throat to restore order.

"The sentence will be carried out immediately."

He announced. Ivan felt his stomach drop to his shoes- no, surely they'd have more time, surely he could have another moment with Fedyor-

"Aleksandra," Kirigan turned to the lead Inferni "build a pyre in the middle of the camp."

For a second, Ivan wasn't sure what the General had meant. Then it dawned on him, and he swore he could feel the ground crumpling from under his feet.

"Sir, that's not-"

"An order is an order, Ivan. They do not deserve a Grisha death. Rather, they will be treated to a druskëlle sentence."

Mariya must have finally realised what was happening, because she let out a heartbreaking wail and strained against the guard that held her.

"No!" She screamed. "No, please, sir I repent, I repent-"

The General ignored her and turned around. "Ivan, I trust you will carry out what needs to be done. It's what's best for Ravka, and for the Grisha. No sentimentalities."

Ivan didn't know what the feeling building up within him was; he had never felt anything like it. Too cold to be called rage, too powerful to be called fear. All he could see was Fedyor chained to a wooden pole, screaming and crying for mercy as the flames consumed him. Looking at him, those brown eyes filled with agony.

Something inside Ivan broke.

Distantly, he heard himself roaring as he hurled himself against Kirigan's back, hands wrapping around the other man's neck. Grisha powers be damned, Ivan was going to kill the bastard with his own two hands-

But Kirigan flipped him around easily, and suddenly his back was pressed against the other man's chest, his hands held painfully behind him. He couldn't move a finger.

"Careful, Ivan." The General hissed in his ear. "Or you will share your lover's fate."

"I'd rather burn than side with someone who would kill us like the druskëlle!" Ivan snapped, straining against Kirigan's grip. "You are a disgrace to the Grisha. To think I believed in you-"

"I am only doing what is best for all of us. Our personal feelings don't matter." Kirigan's voice was cold, detached. As if he had killed whatever warmth remained inside him long ago. He probably had.

"Vladimir." He said to the guard that held Fedyor. "Kill him now."

"No!" Ivan shouted. "No- Fedya, Fedyenka- no!"

Fedyor's eyes met his. Impossibly, he smiled; that damned, irresistible smile that Ivan had fallen for the first time he'd ever seen it.

"It's alright, Vanya." He said easily as the oprichnik fumbled for his dagger. "I'll wait for you, yes? We'll see each other again."

He sounded so calm, as if he was just leaving on a long mission rather than being executed. Ivan sobbed, sagging against Kirigan's grip.

"Vanya-" Fedyor grunted as the oprichnik pulled him back, the cold steel of an ornate dagger pressing against his throat. "Look at me, my love. Look at me."

Ivan forced himself to look. The knowledge that this would be the last time he heard Fedyor's voice, saw him alive and well and smiling, shattered him. But Fedyor kept smiling, his eyes filled with love and tears.

"Fedyor." Ivan whispered. Fedyor closed his eyes.

A moment later, the dagger sliced his throat, and blood painted the ground in front of him red.