#Freddy Carter comfort

[jahayla-parker]

I would really love a Freddy Carter drunk fluff fic where he gets super tipsy and finds his Gf, the reader and she helps him. I'd love if it could have lots of hiccups and drunken belches/burps???

Thanks love!!

Drunk In Love : Freddy Carter x Reader

Desc: 4.7k wc, y/n has to help take care of her boyfriend Freddy when he drinks too much. Fluff, Freddy being a simp for reader, comfort, ‘sick’ fic trope.

Warnings: a few swear words, drinking and talks of alcoholic beverages, mentions of hangovers and other side effects of drinking, very minor warnings tbh

“Wherrre issss y/n” Freddy frowned, his hand sliding down from his brother, Tom’s, shoulder as he returned to their table. He couldn’t figure out where his girlfriend, y/n, had went off to. Freddy and y/n had gone out tonight with their friends and his older brother. They’d been at this particular pub for what felt like an hour, but Freddy hadn’t seen y/n since they first got here.

Tom laughed loudly as he noticed his brother’s state. He shook his head slightly, “I don’t know mate, but you might want to take it easy on the drinks”. Tom wasn’t sure how many beverages his brother had so far, but it was clearly enough to make him tipsy.

Freddy furrowed his brows, “whhhaaat drinksss?” His eyes danced around the table, making note of everyone’s empty glasses. “They’re allll eeempty” Freddy argued.

Tom chuckled, “exactly”. When Freddy only appeared to become more confused, Tom rolled his eyes. “Let’s go find your girl, hmm?” He knew Freddy needed to start pacing his drinks but suspected y/n would be better at convincing him of that. Tom placed his hands on his brother’s shoulders as he tried to lead Freddy towards where they’d last seen his girlfriend.

Freddy pouted dramatically as he sloppily sat down at the bar, his brother holding him up with one hand. His eyes slowly dragged across the room in hopes of finding y/n. Freddy slouched against the bar in defeat upon not having found her during his brief search.

“I texted her Fred, she’s headed over” Tom chuckled, once again shaking his head at his brother’s drunken state.

Freddy perked up slightly only for him to burp loudly, having sucked in too much air. He slapped a hand over his mouth as Tom laughed even louder. “Wherrree issss-“ Freddy mumbled, dropping his hand.

“Give her a sec” Tom groaned, rolling his eyes as he sat down beside Freddy.

Freddy merely huffed dramatically before hiccuping. His chest shook as he tried to contain his hiccups. Once they resolved, Freddy resumed pouting as he played with the hem of his shirt.

Y/n suppressed her chuckle as she noticed Freddy’s slouched posture. Even from a slight distance, it was clear he was using the bar counter for support. She took a deep breath in preparation of whatever silly, over the top, theatrics her drunk boyfriend would throw her way tonight. Y/n approached from behind Freddy, placing a hand on his shoulder. She bashfully bit her lip as Freddy lazily threw his head backwards and grinned adorably up at her.

“Hey handsome, you doing okay?” Y/n asked, lifting his head back up before walking to his side. She smiled and nodded at Tom in appreciation for getting her. Had y/n known Freddy planned on drinking this much, she would’ve stayed by his side to keep an eye on him.

Freddy nodded his head, a tiny hiccup escaping his lips. His eyes widened in response before he pressed his lips into a fine line as he moved his gaze back to y/n.

“You're too adorable for your own good" Y/n laughed. She smirked at the pink flush on Freddy’s cheeks darkening at her comment. Y/n tilted her head slightly as she examined the rest of his appearance. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked.

“I’m fiiinne” Freddy dragged out, trying to stand up. He wanted to move closer to y/n and figured he’d walk the few feet to her and then use the bar as support again. Only, Freddy didn’t make it much closer to y/n before he began to stumble.

Fortunately, Y/n was very attentive towards her tipsy boyfriend. She managed to catch Freddy by his arm before he fell. "You are anything but fine right now" y/n commented softly.

“No but youuureee fiine” Freddy smirked crookedly, his dizzy body being held up by y/n. He blinked slowly, his sloppy smirk still on his lips as he tried to wink at his girlfriend.

Tom groaned before erupting in laughter, “oh my”.

Y/n bit her lip and shook her head. “That was really cheesy” she pointed out with a grin.

“Cheeesse?“ Freddy questioned followed by a loud belch. Unfazed by his noisy burp, he glanced around in search of what y/n was talking about. Freddy’s eyes furrowed as he struggled to comprehend her response, not having found any cheese nearby.

Y/n hummed, a lighthearted smirk on her face. “How many drinks did you have?" she asked, sending Freddy a knowing look.

Freddy just stared back at y/n with a dorky smile, making Tom laugh.

“Freddy, babe, how many did you have?” Y/n asked again. When she still didn’t get a response, she glanced over at Tom. Y/n was hoping Freddy’s brother would have some estimate for her. Unfortunately, she was let down when Tom merely shrugged. Y/n turned back to face Freddy.

Freddy had already been watching y/n. So when she turned to him, he answered her earlier question. It had taken Freddy some time to figure out the answer, but now he had it. “Threes two,” he mumbled proudly.

“Three two?” Y/n repeated in confusion.

“I heard thirty two,” Tom commented, eyes wide as he stared at Freddy.

“Thirty two? Shit, I hope not,” Y/n laughed. She knew Tom had to be wrong. Y/n had no doubt Freddy was plastered. But she knew he would never have 32 drinks in one night.

“Nooo,” Freddy whined just before he hiccuped. He focused on y/n with an intense gaze as he repeated himself. “Three,” he hiccuped. Holding up two fingers, Freddy continued, “two”. His last word was followed by yet another hiccup.

Y/n shot a glance at Tom to see if he was having any luck understanding her drunken boyfriend’s gibberish. Upon not getting any suggestion from his brother, she gazed back at Freddy. Giving it her best shot, y/n took a guess at what he was trying to say. “Three OR two?” she clarified.

Freddy nodded his head excitedly. He giggled as he grinned widely at y/n. It was evident Freddy was pleased she had understood him.

“I think you may have lost count honey,” y/n commented softly. “When was the last time you drank water?” she asked, squeezing his hand.

“Doesn’t taste aaaaasssss goood,” Freddy pouted. His pout was broken as he let out a burp. Only for that burp to be accompanied by others.

Ignoring Freddy’s belching for the moment, y/n asked the bartender for a glass of water. She quickly thanked the worker before smiling at her boyfriend. “Hmm, can you drink some water for me?” y/n asked sweetly, pushing the glass closer to him.

“For yooou?” Freddy hiccuped. When he saw y/n nod, he dizzily nodded back. Sucking on some more air after his latest hiccup, he whispered, “okaaayy”. Freddy quickly took hold of the glass and started to chug it.

Y/n had to close her eyes as she resisted the urge to laugh. She was pleased Freddy complied with her request, but since he’d drank his water way too fast, he went back to burping loudly. Y/n squeezed his hand that was resting on the bar counter, “slowly, darling”.

“Naaah uuh,” Freddy argued, shaking his head. His movements caused the glass to slip from his lips, making water drip down his bottom lip towards his chin.

Y/n leaned closer and used her free hand to wipe the water from Freddy’s face. “Why not?” she questioned, lowering her hand.

Freddy’s unsteady hand swayed the glass of water side to side as he answered, “I wanna kiiiiss”.

Y/n and Tom laughed. She smiled and nodded, “hmmm, you can have a kiss if you drink some more water”. As she saw Freddy raise the glass back to his lips in a ridiculously fast pace, y/n added, “slowly!” She visibly winced as the glass smacked against his chin.

Freddy huffed but nodded. He complied with her instructions, sipping on the water in a much slower manner. Yet, he refused to set the glass down at all until he was finished. Once Freddy’s glass was empty, he grinned widely at y/n.

Y/n chuckled lightly, leaning closer to Freddy. When she was close enough, Freddy’s wet lips eagerly made contact with hers. Y/n smiled into his needy kiss, softly kissing him back before pulling away. “I’m going to go tell y/f/n and y/of/n that we’re going to head out, I’ll be back,” y/n explained, looking at Tom to make sure he could repeat it to Freddy if needed.

Y/n smiled at Freddy as she returned to the bar counter. She grabbed his hand in hers and squeezed it lovingly. “Y/f/n and y/of/n are going to finish their drinks and then we’ll head out,” y/n informed Tom and Freddy.

“Am I driving or you?” Tom asked y/n.

Y/n hummed and looked over at her boyfriend to check on his state. “I’ll drive, that way we don’t need to arrange getting his car back from you tomorrow,” she said, nodding her head towards Freddy. Y/n added, “just make sure he doesn’t puke in the back, hmm?”

Tom laughed and nodded, “I’ll tell you to pull over, or maybe just open the door and shove him”.

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully and shook her head, “no scuffing up my boyfriend”.

Tom hummed and pretended to debate the notion. However, he suddenly stopped and stared questioningly at his younger brother; making y/n also turn to face Freddy.

“What’s wrong?” Y/n asked softly, having seen the deep pout that was now on Freddy’s face.

"Hooold my haaandd?" Freddy requested, giving her glossy puppy dog eyes.

Y/n giggled and bit her lip. “Freddy, I already am sweetheart,” she explained. Y/n lifted their intertwined hands up to show him when he seemed to doubt her. She couldn’t help but giggle some more when Freddy sighed in relief and smiled contentedly at her.

Y/n noticed the way Freddy’s eyes slowly started to close more and more as they waited. She watched him silently for a few minutes. Y/n made note of how Freddy would only ‘wake up’ to burp or hiccup before his eyes narrowed sleepily again. As adorable and funny as it was, she knew her man needed sleep.

“I’ll be back,” y/n said quietly. “I don’t know what’s taking them so long,” she explained, kissing Freddy’s flushed cheek. “I’ll go check,” y/n alerted Tom, motioning with her eyes for him to watch Freddy for her in the interim.

Y/n had only made it a few steps away from the men when she heard Freddy whine loudly. She quickly spun around but couldn’t see what had caused his outburst. “Love, what’s happening?” Y/n wondered.

Freddy tried to stand, his legs unsteady as he stepped closer to her. Fortunately for him, Tom saw the worried look in y/n’s eyes and stopped him from trying to continue his approach. Having been restricted in movement by his brother, Freddy resorted to pouting again. “Yooou’rrre too far awayyyy,” he hiccuped.

Tom laughed loudly, “you're seriously like a man-child."

Y/n shook her head, “Tom-“.

Tom held up one hand, “I know, I know”. He laughed and more forcefully guided Freddy back to his barstool. “She’ll be back soon mate,” Tom said trying to make his tone sympathetic enough to appease y/n. He glanced over his shoulder at y/n and waved her on, “I’ve got him”.

However, Freddy once again stood up as he realized y/n was leaving his side. His legs shook and Tom’s grip on him was the only thing truly keeping him from stumbling.

Y/n sighed softly, “Freddy”. She walked closer, looping her arm under his armpits for more support. “You should probably sit down,” y/n advised. “I’ll be right back okay?”

Freddy shook his head, “but- but…, first…“.

“Mhmm?” Y/n responded, helping him back into the stool at the bar.

“Can … caaan I steallll your heaaart?” Freddy flirted drunkenly. His hand sliding down y/n’s bicep towards her wrist.

Y/n stifled a laugh and shook her head. “No, I’m afraid not,” she teased, brushing Freddy’s messy hair away from his eyes.

Freddy immediately frowned, his bottom lip starting to tremble slightly. His eyes began to water as he looked up at y/n. “Whyyy?” he complained.

Y/n let out a remorseful puff of breath. She cupped Freddy’s face in her hands and smiled lovingly at him. “You already have it,” y/n reminded him delicately.

“Ohhhh,” Freddy gasped. He smiled crookedly, his eyes thin as he tried to say something else. Whatever Freddy had been planning on saying was cut off as he hiccuped again. Seemingly having caught on to his difficulty speaking, he opted to pull y/n in for a hug.

Y/n smiled to herself as she wrapped her arms around Freddy. She leaned back slightly to place a tender kiss to his forehead. As she pulled back from the hug, she noticed Freddy was wearing a ridiculously large grin. “What are you smiling about?" Y/n hummed.

Freddy’s rosey cheeks flushed deeper as he nibbled on his bottom lip. “Yooou’re sooo preetty,” He slurred before he failed to fight off another hiccup.

Y/n giggled, “thank you Freddy”. She squeezed his cheeks softly. But as y/n went to find their friends, she heard Freddy whisper “kissss me?” She smirked and nodded, complying by giving him a small kiss.

"Your… lips taaaaste liiike… dreams” Freddy flirted, giving y/n a lazy wink.

"That doesn't even make sense,” y/n laughed, shaking her head.

Freddy scoffed, “doesss too”.

Y/n hummed, “okay, sure”. She brushed some off Freddy’s hair to the side and placed another light kiss to his forehead. “Stay with Tom, I’ll be back,” y/n requested.

Freddy’s brows scrunched, “yooou are leaving meee?”

Y/n fought off the urge to giggle. “Only momentary. I have to. But I’ll be back” she promised. Upon having seen Freddy’s reluctance y/n signed. “I'm going to take care of you, okay? I just have to stay away for a moment” y/n told him, “then I’m yours for the rest of the night, kay?”

Freddy grinned and nodded, his eyes closing some as he started relaxing again.

“Nooo y/n isss,” Freddy slurred, glaring weakly at the stranger across from him.

Y/n rose her eyebrows as she approached. “What’s going on?” She asked Tom, glancing at Freddy and the guy he was talking to. “Why does Freddy look mad?” Y/n questioned, watching the stranger closely.

Tom shook his head, “one second”. “Mate, let it go,” he directed towards Freddy. Tom sighed as Freddy shook his head.

“Seeee,” Freddy argued, pointing a wavering finger at y/n. “Beauuuutiful,” he commented, squinting his eyes at the stranger.

“Mate for real, if you insult my girl one more time,” the stranger hissed in warning.

Y/n eyed Tom for an explanation as to what she’d walked up on.

“She,” Tom said, nodding his head towards the random girl beside the stranger. “Told Freddy she liked his hair and, he took it as her flirting,” he explained. As he shook his head in exasperation, Tom continued, “now, he’s on a rant about how much better you are than her”.

Y/n was pleased Tom whispered the update to her, not wanting to further ignite the tension. She walked closer to Freddy and placed her hand on his shoulder, sending the stranger an apologetic smile. “Darling, let’s just go home,” y/n suggested.

Freddy merely shook his head, his eyes still tensely squinting. “Nooo. Heeee’s wrrroonng,” he argued.

Y/n sighed, “Freddy-“.

“Yoou, loove,” Freddy rambled, turning to look at her. “Sooo preetieer,” he complimented causally. “Niiiicccer,” Freddy continued, his ‘c’ dragging out until it formed a hissing sound. He looked back over at the stranger and the girl beside him. Freddy shook his head, “nooot herrrr”.

Y/n frantically lowered Freddy’s hand as he pointed at the random girl. She took a deep breath as Tom moved between the stranger and Freddy. Y/n tugged on Freddy’s hand, “let’s go, Freddy”. “Now,” she pleaded, seeing his reluctance.

Freddy huffed dramatically. “Looove,” he sighed.

“Yoooou arree beeeette-“ Freddy adamantly continued.

Y/n placed her hand over Freddy’s mouth to stop his babbling. She could tell the stranger was getting fed up with Freddy’s behavior. “Baby, can you please shut the fuck up,” y/n pleaded, leading Freddy’s drunk body away from the others so he couldn’t keep instigating an unnecessary fight.

When Tom joined y/n and Freddy outside, y/n lowered her hand from Freddy’s face and turned to Tom. “Never mind what I said earlier,” she began. “You drive, I need to be in the back with him,” y/n declared, “if you drive, you can crash with us tonight, or we can get the car back tomorrow once he’s sober”. She glanced over at Freddy who was clinging to her body and smiling carelessly up at her. “That way I can keep an eye on this one,” y/n hummed.

Y/n tried to get Freddy to get off his phone for the duration of the car ride. Tom was driving and had just gotten done dropping off y/f/n and y/of/n. She knew that meant they only had another fifteen minutes to go until Tom arrived at her and Freddy’s home. In other words, y/n had to keep Freddy from throwing up or doing anything stupid or reckless for at least fifteen minutes before she could put him to bed.

Y/n wasn’t successful in getting Freddy to put his phone down. Nor did she know what it was he was doing since he was childishly hiding his screen from her. But, y/n was just glad he wasn’t typing and therefore it wasn’t likely he was drunk texting anyone. She rested her head on the window as she watched Freddy closely, making sure he wasn’t making himself sick by reading in the back seat while drunk.

Freddy suddenly glanced up at y/n, a crooked smirk forming. “Are yooou,” he hiccuped before pausing to look down at his phone again. “Maade ooout ooof,” Freddy slurred, flickering his eyes up to y/n briefly before back to his phone. “Graapes?” he asked.

Y/n raised her eyebrow at him questioningly. “What?” she asked, sitting up straight. Y/n knew Freddy had been long gone for awhile, but she was truly lost on this conversation. Normally she could piece together whatever drunken thoughts Freddy cared to share, but this one stumped her.

Freddy stared at his phone, his eyes lazily rereading the next line several times. He grinned up at y/n, “‘cause yooou are fiiiinne aaas wiiiiinnne”. Based on the deep dimples on his cheeks, Freddy was pretty proud of himself.

Y/n laughed and shook her head, “Freddy, wha-?” She reached over and took his phone, her eyes scanning the page he had pulled up. Y/n giggled more and locked the device before giving it back to him. “You don’t need to research pickup lines Freddy,” she assured him, playing with the wavy hairs covering his forehead.

Tom laughed loudly from the front seat as he mumbled something incoherent.

“Ohh,” Freddy hummed, “kaay”. He scooted across the seat, moving closer to y/n. “Onlllly yooou,” Freddy mumbled, pointing to y/n’s hand that was in his hair.

Y/n smirked and nodded. “Yeah darling, I’m the only one who gets to play with your hair,” she agreed, her fingers stroking his slightly clammy forehead underneath said hair. “You’re mine and I don’t share, but clearly I don’t need to worry,” y/n teased lovingly, pulling him closer. She smiled to herself as Freddy cuddled into her embrace with tired eyes.

Y/n propped their front door open with her foot as she guided Freddy inside. “I think it's time for bed,” she suggested warmly as she slid her foot past the threshold, letting the door close behind her. Y/n gave Freddy’s shoulder an encouraging squeeze as he leaned against her tiredly.

Y/n pressed a soft kiss to Freddy’s cheek as she walked him to their bathroom. “Sit here,” she encouraged, stroking his cheek as she sat him on the closed toilet seat lid. Y/n quickly dashed to their bedroom to grab some clothing for him to sleep in, not wanting to risk leaving him alone for too long. She’d noticed how unsteady his body was and didn’t want him to topple onto the floor in her absence.

It was hard for y/n to resist a chuckle as she returned to find Freddy trying to sleep while seated. “Hmmm,” she cooed, “almost, handsome, just need to change, okay?”. Y/n didn’t care if he slept in the shirt he had on tonight, but she suspected his jeans would be uncomfortable to sleep in. She helped him stand up, letting Freddy use her body for support as he clumsily tried to change his clothes.

When y/n had gotten her boyfriend into more comfortable, and non-pub-scented, clothing, she cautiously led him to their bed. During her attempts to help Freddy change, she realized he was burping a lot more. There were still a few hiccups, but y/n was concerned by how often he was burping and whether it would cause him to vomit tonight. So she walked very slowly to guide him to the bed, hoping to not upset his stomach anymore than it already had been tonight.

After settling Freddy under the covers, y/n brushed his messy hair from his eyes and gave him a kiss. “Im going to change,” y/n whispered as to not cause him to get up when she stepped away from their bed. However, she’d barely made it to the dresser when she heard Freddy slip out of the bed.

Y/n spun around, watching as Freddy dashed back to the bathroom. He’d turned the fan on, so she had a hard time hearing what was going on in there. But, y/n could make out that he was still belching and hiccuping with only minimal pauses between. Just as she went to knock on the door, she heard the sink running and decided to wait.

When Freddy exited the bathroom with a clammy forehead, even more tired eyes, and a frown, y/n sighed. “Oh honey,” she frowned, checking his forehead with the back of her hand. Y/n let out a breath of relief since Freddy at least wasn’t feverish. “Did you throw up in there?” she questioned concerned.

“Nooo,” Freddy said with another hiccup. Even in his drunken state he could see the doubt in y/n’s gaze. But, Freddy was too out of it, his mind far too busy and buzzing, to explain himself. Instead, he leaned against his loving girlfriend and let her guide him back to bed.

Y/n turned from their bed after having covered Freddy up with the comforter again. “I’ll be right back,” she whispered, this time walking into their bathroom. Y/n quickly looked around, checking to see if he had in-fact thrown up after all.

However, y/n noticed Freddy must’ve just emptied his bladder instead. She sighed in relief that the night was nearly over and he’d so far been able to keep all the liquor down. Y/n flushed the toilet and lowered the lid for Freddy, washing her hands before exiting the bathroom.

Y/n’s eyes softened as she grinned at Freddy’s sleepy face. She watched silently for a few seconds as his eyelashes slowly flittered against his high cheekbones. Despite Freddy’s sharp features, whenever he was resting y/n thought he always seemed so soft and precious. Y/n shook her head to herself as she tried to will herself to temporarily look away so she could finish her last task of the night.

Y/n paused, turning her head to look over her shoulder at the sound of Freddy’s feet pattering across their wooden flooring. “What’re you doing out of bed?” she tsked warmly, smiling at his blanket cladded sleepy form. Y/n had been trying to make some breakfast for him tomorrow, something that should help with the anticipated nausea and hangover y/n knew he’d have in the morning. She also didn’t want the sounds from cooking said breakfast to make his impending headache worse tomorrow. But, y/n feared she must’ve woken him instead by doing it tonight.

Freddy pouted, his face barely peeking through the comforter he’d dragged with him. “Miiissssed yooou,” he whined.

Y/n smiled and stifled a giggle. “I’m coming,” she nodded, putting the meal in the refrigerator. Y/n shut the door and walked over to her drowsy boyfriend. She cupped his cheeks, “let’s go get you back to bed”.

“Misssss,” Freddy hiccuped. “Yoooou,” he added, another hiccup following his whine. Freddy tilted his head to the side as he watched y/n step towards the counter, his pout returning.

Y/n didn’t have to be looking at him to know he was pouting again. She smiled to herself and shook her head lightly. “I’m just getting meds for you for the morning and tonight,” y/n explained, grabbing the cup now filled with water that she’d gotten down and filled earlier. She then pulled over a bottle of medicine from the kitchen counter.

“Yooooou’re my med-medicciinne,” Freddy said, the last word coming out very jumbled and slurred. But his blushing cheeks certainly cleared up any doubt one might’ve had over what he was saying.

“Freddy, take the meds,” y/n chuckled, passing him a few pills and the water.

Freddy shook his head, the blanket slightly restricting his movements. “Nuuuh uh,” he argued childishly.

Y/n sighed and frowned. “Let me take care of you,” she requested, intentionally holding eye contact with Freddy. “Now, take the meds,” y/n repeated kindly, pushing her hands closer to him.

Freddy stared silently into y/n’s gaze for a moment before nodding slowly. “Kaaay,” he hiccuped, grabbing the items from y/n. Freddy dutifully swallowed the pills and slid the glass down to counter towards her.

Y/n thanked Freddy and then rested her hand on the blanket covering his shoulders as she encouraged him to walk back to their bedroom. She saw Freddy had turned on the bedside lamp so she quickly turned off the ceiling light as she followed him in.

Freddy hummed contentedly as y/n helped him back into bed. His tired and lazy eyes watched as she lovingly made sure he was comfortable and that the blanket covered him completely. “Yoooou loooovve meee, rrrighht?” he asked, closing his eyes.

Y/n giggled, “of course I do”. She stroked the side of Freddy’s face with her fingertips, “always”.

Freddy silently smiled to himself, melting into the blankets. Just as he seemed to begin calming down for the night, he mumbled, “waaaait, whaa?”.

As she shook her head softly at Freddy, y/n smiled. “Angel, you asked if I loved you,” she reminded him with a small laugh. “I was saying I do love -“ y/n began to explain.

Only, suddenly Freddy was alert and no longer almost asleep. “Whoooo dooo yooou lllove?” He asked as he sloppily tried to sit up. Freddy’s lips curled downwards due to his jealous state. He tried to huff loudly but it came out as a burp.

Y/n bit into her bottom lip as she laughed. “You, Freddy,” she answered, delicately laying him back down. After tucking Freddy in for the millionth time tonight, y/n cupped his face and kissed his nose, “you are the one I love”.

This seemed to truly settle Freddy as he smiled, suddenly appearing sleepy again now that he realized he didn’t have to be jealous. “Doooon’t leaaaave,” he whined, holding y/n’s hand.

Y/n nodding in reassurance. She cautiously helped Freddy slide back so she could get into the bed from the same side. Once she’d crawled into bed beside Freddy, y/n silently began playing with his hair.

Freddy lazily smiled, his eyes getting heavier as he felt himself drifting off to sleep.

“You’re purring,” y/n commented with an amused hum.

Freddy’s cheeks blushed as he let his eyes close, sleep quickly taking over him.

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Tag list: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r @nikfigueiredo @missdreamofendless @alex-kazbrekkersimp

[umbruhcorpsez]

Four Big Guys

[sky-neverending]

bitches be like "he's my comfort character" bae he can't even comfort himself. he's literally a mess of blood and rage and buried emotions that he pretends not to have, how is that comforting?

(it's me i'm bitches)

[auroravictorium]

still in love and half alive (k.b.)

can't say we didn't try. baby, we're a bad idea. - bad idea by dove cameron

Summary: kaz and reader have a job: take out the leader of one of the newest up-and-coming gangs in the barrel that hope to fill the vacuum left by pekka rollins's departure. said job requires reader to utilize her skills from her days as a showgirl; despite the unpleasant reminders of her past, she completes the job and helps other showgirls and the low grunts of the new gang in the process.

Pairing(s): kaz x former showgirl!reader (established relationship) Word Count: 4.6k Warnings: alcohol consumption, men being creepy, poor treatment of women (nothing explicit, just allusions to men treating them like crap), allusions to past exploitation, kaz having non-explicit thoughts about reader, reader playing up the seduction factor, violence [cutting someone with a dagger, kaz choking someone, kaz hitting someone with his cane], mentions of past trauma, very quick mention of kaz's haphephobia Genre: action-ish, a little angst, fluff near the end Request? Yes! (@futurecorps3)

Author's Note: hello hello! so this is an absolute BEAST of a one-shot, but i couldn't figure out where to split it. i hope you all enjoy <3

Kaz sat in the far corner of the entertainment hall, nursing his drink and trying to keep his jealousy at bay. Patrons and dancers milled about, amusing themselves with conversation, cards, or propositions. A few disappeared up the rickety stairs to amuse themselves, laughing and stumbling with drinks in one hand and cigarettes in the other. The room reeked of smoke, liquor, and sweat. 

He was only here for your sake. If he were smart, he would be anywhere else, certainly not in some up-and-coming gang's crumbling entertainment hall. If he could, he would leave you to play your part. You could hold your own just fine, no protection from Kaz needed; but jealousy had him rooted to his teetering stool in the corner, with his watered-down liquor in a gloved hand and a scowl on his face. He couldn't bring himself to leave. Not when three dozen men were staring at you in a tiny dress that hugged your waist.

You'd paid a hefty sum for the chance to dance on the stage; from your position, you could survey the bar for the man calling himself the leader of such an establishment. Armed with a description of the wannabe gang leader and three knives hidden under your sparkling red dress, you circled the shimmering pole in the center of the stage and traced your gaze over the people watching you. 

There was no sign of the target, Pieter Gabel. It took every ounce of your self-control to resist a sigh, and you decided to do a lazy spin around the pole to amuse your audience. A few men whistled as you hooked your arm around the pole and spun, letting the light catch in the faux diamonds threaded in your hair. You settled on the ground again and tossed your hair over your shoulder, scanning the crowd for the only set of eyes that mattered.

You didn't find Kaz in the crowd. Not that you expected to. Instead, you caught his gaze from across the room, his icy blue eyes illuminated by a near-snuffed candle on his table. To anyone else, he looked as indifferent as ever, maybe vaguely interested in the spectacle on stage. But you saw the slant of his mouth, the clench of his jaw, how something dark glimmered in his eyes, perhaps a promise of violence. He didn't like all the attention on you.

So you offered a small smile, a look reserved for him and him alone. You'd apologize later, but he'd understand. You were doing what needed to be done. The stage gave you the best vantage point in the building, and Gabel had to be found and driven out of the city. The Barrel was tense enough while the remnants of the Dime Lions attempted to regroup; the Dregs needed to eliminate any rising threats as soon as possible.

You and Kaz both knew that. He'd forgive you once you were off that damn stage and by his side, helping him rule the Barrel. 

For years, crowds of tourists and too-rich men waited at your feet, leering at you like you were nothing more than a pretty face and a body to buy, bed, or watch with predatory glints in their eyes. They didn't bother to see past the costume and see how sharp and dangerous you could be. To them, you were nothing more than a piece of entertainment. 

But Kaz saw right through the ruse and saw every jagged scar your past had left. He saw how Ketterdam had sharpened you into a dangerous weapon, ready to wreak revenge on a city that had hurt you deeply. 

Like called to like. Your similar tastes for vengeance pulled Kaz toward you, despite all attempts on his end to ignore the summons. For years after you joined the Dregs, he settled for admiring you from afar until you got sick of his shit and told him to either do something about his feelings or quit scaring off everyone who looked your way.

You didn't say it so kindly, of course, and Kaz reluctantly admitted you had a point, though he knew it was a bad idea to indulge his feelings and yours. But he had, and he couldn't bring himself to regret it. The year since had passed in stolen moments after jobs, in the shadowed corners of the Crow Club during the slow hours, and peaceful mornings and evenings in either of your rooms. 

Your set was coming to an end, and there was still no sign of the target. After one final circle around the stage, one last attempt to entice more kruge to fall at your feet, you slipped through the moth-eaten curtains behind the poles and left the cheering audience behind you. 

As soon as their eyes left your body, you shuddered, clasping your hands over your forearms and making a beeline for the back hallway leading to the dark, rotting dressing rooms. As soon as you could, you pulled on the coat Kaz had given you, an exact match to the one he usually wore but tailored to your size. It was fur-lined, and it covered you up. Exactly what you needed to battle the cold shame beginning to cling to your skin after your performance.

No matter how often you put on the ruse and brought your old life back from the dead for a night, it was a feeling you could never shake. Being with Kaz, knowing he was out there and he would never judge you for your past, helped. More often than not, he was the one telling you that you didn't have to do this; there were other ways to spot your targets, to bring them down. He made sure you knew you didn't need to be exploited anymore. All you needed to do was have your weapons and wit ready.

But using the sins and vices of Ketterdam against itself was the easiest way to do this. It gave you power, something you didn't have during your days as a showgirl. Before, you were a puppet. Now, you were the puppetmaster, fueled and encouraged by someone equally as dangerous as you. He would never allow Ketterdam to suck you back into that life again. You would never let yourself.

As you slipped back into the crowd, you were pleased by the anonymity of wearing a coat and removing your elaborate makeup. You crossed the entertainment hall to Kaz's shadowy table and settled on the stool across from Kaz.

His eyes turned toward you, landing on your freshly-bound hair and the grim expression on your face. "Are you alright?" he said quietly. Though his face didn't change, you knew he was concerned. He always was after you came off the stage. 

Kaz passed you his drink, and you lifted it to your lips and took a sip. The liquid stung on its way down, and you wrinkled your nose. "I'm fine. But I understand why you look so miserable." You pushed the glass back toward him. "That's disgusting."

"But an excellent business tactic," Kaz muttered. "People buy more drinks." He knocked back the rest without flinching and set the glass down with a thump. 

"Any sign of him?" you murmured, lowering your voice and leaning across the table so Kaz could hear. The hair on the back of your neck was prickling uncomfortably, and you felt the weight of unfamiliar eyes on you. "Someone's watching us." You tucked a loose piece of hair behind your ear and made a show of placing your chin in your palm and peeking through your eyelashes up at Kaz. You needed to look as unbothered as possible by your audience's attention, which meant putting on your facade again.

For a moment, Kaz didn't realize that you had hinted for him to look around for Gabel. He was distracted by the dancing of the fading candlelight in your eyes, how it cast the shadow of your eyelashes upward, how it illuminated the curve of your lips. They looked soft and tinted red from the lipstick you wore on stage, and he imagined how warm they felt against his when he dared to kiss you.

There was nothing else in the hall but you and your lips and his thoughts spinning in a million directions.

He blinked, breaking from his trance. He blamed the sweltering heat of the building for the heat rising in his cheeks as he looked around for the eyes he could now feel on him. Nobody caught his attention at first, and then he saw a figure across the hall. The man was leaning against a dented, grimy wall and watching you too closely for your comfort.

You followed Kaz's icy, suddenly furious gaze to the man in a poorly-tailored suit that didn't match and was most likely stolen. His watch was clearly fake, and his jewelry had an artificial glimmer. His gang, if you could call it that, was barely above water; you could tell from his poor attempt at looking flashy and put together, as Per Haskell or Pekka Rollins had before being ousted.

"I'll get him alone," you whispered. You moved to slide from your seat, but Kaz's cane pressed against the top of your shoe to keep you still. Your eyes flicked to him, and you raised a brow. "Kaz?"

"No," Kaz said firmly. "You've done enough."

The mere thought of you being alone with him, even long enough for Kaz to trail the two of you and land a strike on Gabel, infuriated him. He knew why the man was looking at you and could guess what was running through his mind. It didn't take a genius to figure out that the man hoped he had a chance with you. Kaz didn't want to put you at risk.

"If you approach him, he'll bolt," you argued. You nudged Kaz's cane off your foot and turned to face him again. You plastered on a sweet smile like you weren't disagreeing with him about how best to neutralize the man practically salivating across the room. With luck, it would only appear that you were trying to convince him to pass over enough kruge for you to pay for another set of dances on stage. You hoped it was convincing.

"If you approach, he'll think it's his lucky night," Kaz ground out between his teeth. His fingers twitched around the top of his cane. What he would give to hit him hard enough to see stars. Or the Saints above. "You've done enough," he repeated, softer this time. He could see you itching to shed your act of seductive showgirl as soon as possible. He refused to ask for any more of it from you.

You sighed deeply. There was no arguing with Kaz. "What's your plan to approach him without scaring him off? Would you like to borrow my dress?"

Kaz glared at you. "Funny."

"Red's not your color anyway." Your lips twitched with a smile, and you turned your gaze to the stage. You thought back to your view of the entire building, a cramped, dilapidated theatre. The first floor was where the musicians used to sit and play; the second contained a semicircle of private boxes where the rich would sit, smoke, and indulge in their vices during the plays happening below.

It was the perfect place to go unnoticed or gather attention.

You leaned forward again, and Kaz raised a brow at your invasion of his space. "I have an idea," you murmured. You slipped your fingers into your hair and retrieved a sparkling pin. Leaning forward until your face was mere inches from Kaz's, you dropped it into his gloved palm. Shimmering, obvious bait you hoped the target would take. "There's an empty box upstairs," you whispered. Keenly aware of the unwelcome eyes on you, you looked up through your eyelashes again at Kaz. "Fourth door."

Kaz had to remind himself to keep breathing as you stood up and walked toward the stairs to the second floor. He could still smell your perfume and the product Nina had helped put in your hair before you left for the job; beneath that, something intoxicatingly you. His head spun, and he forced himself to stand and follow, closing his fingers around the hairpin you'd deposited in his palm.

Saints, this was a bad idea. He was too distracted to figure out what plan you were concocting. All he could think about was you. Your lips, your eyes, how you were thinking so quickly on your feet about how to eliminate Gabel. You were his match sculpted by some divine presence: his intellectual equal, a beautiful drug that appealed to every instinct he thought had drowned with Kaz Rietveld in the harbor.

Ketterdam had underestimated you, but it brought you to him. For once, he couldn't curse the city for something.

He followed you up the stairs and into the private box, his heart pounding in his chest and his mind muddled by the burning hairpin in his hand. Distantly, he sensed that the two of you were being followed. Your plan, no doubt.

Right, yes. The plan you had.

The private box was small, with a row of two seats in the front and a row of three on a step just above that. The upholstery was covered in grime and dirt from lack of maintenance since the theatre's abandonment, and the wooden arms of the chairs were rotten and crumbling. 

You were perched on the step between the two rows of seats, tugging on a pair of boots you'd stashed earlier. You'd also pulled on trousers and tucked the short dress into them, making your outfit more comfortable and functional.

"Are we killing him or just scaring him?" you asked, pulling a knife from the hidden inner pocket of your coat as you tugged it back on over your new outfit. "I think roughing him up would get the point across nicely. I'd hate to get too much blood on this coat." 

"That would be a shame," Kaz managed to answer. He handed you your pin and watched you slip it back into your hair. He took a position by the door, hoping the distance would help him focus. "Scare him first."

You nodded and settled in the least grimy seat. Slow footsteps creaked up the stairs, followed by long pauses between each step. The man hoped to go unnoticed and unheard, likely to ambush the two of you as you supposedly indulged in each other.

You twirled your knife across your knuckles, listening to the footsteps approach down the carpeted hall. Kaz gripped his cane tighter and pressed himself flat against the wall, using the shadows to his advantage. He adjusted his grip and raised it, ready to bring it down.

The footsteps stopped outside the door, and you plastered on your sweetest smile. But your fingers were curled around the hilt of your blade, and it glittered with the promise of violence. Such a contrast from the sparkling, luxurious diamonds in your hair earlier, which promised only pleasure.

The door creaked open, and Pieter Gabel stepped into the trap. His lips curled into a smug smirk as he saw you all alone, and an oily strand of hair dropped onto his forehead. He reeked of alcohol and pride, but you maintained your facade as he leaned against the doorway. "Didn't take you up on your offer for a dance, did he?"

Kaz stiffened behind the door, his muscles coiled to strike. 

You looked Gabel up and down as if seriously considering his presence as an alternative. Really, you were searching his form for weapons. But he was arrogant and unchallenged thus far; he didn't think the Dregs would come for him so soon. 

He was making this too easy.

"He got a better offer from someone else," you said, lifting your shoulders in a delicate shrug. Behind the door, Kaz wrinkled his nose. There wasn't an offer in the world that could tempt him away from you.

You pretended not to notice Kaz's disgust and inspected your nails instead. "Hoping to take his place?" You felt as though you were about to vomit. On stage, it was easy enough to focus only on Kaz and pretend he was the only one watching. But with only this man's gaze crawling over your face, you felt like you were back to your showgirl days: exploited and barely scraping by.

Breathe.

"Perhaps." Pieter shrugged off his ill-fitting topcoat and tossed it to the floor. You nearly gagged on the smell of alcohol wafting off of it, and it took most of your self-control to stay unaffected as he prowled closer. "I'll pay for your next set." He nudged the door shut behind him.

In his inebriated state, he was unaware of the dangerous presence behind him, whose eyes lit up with fury as the target moved toward you. He was only a foot away.

I am not a puppet, you thought. I am in control. With one flick of your wrist, your dagger could be buried beneath his ribs. His blood would seep out, and he'd be nothing more than a man who failed to make Ketterdam know his name. In hours, the city would move on; the dancers would leave, and his followers would scatter and be absorbed into other gangs.

You held this man's fate in your palms, and he didn't even know it. The thought morbidly reassured you. 

Kaz saw the decision flicker through your eyes and took a silent step forward. But he didn't strike, watching as you slipped out of your seat and rounded it, revealing the dangerous glimmer of your dagger.

"I have a better offer," you said, twirling the blade in your hand. 

Gabel paled, and some semblance of understanding and fear passed through his bloodshot eyes. He stumbled back to put some distance between you, and Kaz was ready. He brought his cane down on the back of one of his knees, making the man grunt and fall forward.

You brought your foot down on his hand as he caught himself, and a wicked rush of satisfaction ran through you as the bones snapped beneath your weight. He cried out and went to grab your ankle with his unbroken hand, but you kicked it aside as Kaz swung the crow's head of his cane downward. 

Gabel roared in pain and hunched forward, covering the gash in his temple with his crooked, bruising fingers. Blood seeped between them and down the side of his pale face, and it started to drip onto the carpeted floor.

A heartbeat later, Kaz shoved Gabel's hands away from his face and hooked his cane horizontally across the man's throat. Kaz hauled the man back so he was forced to look up at you. He choked on the wood pressing against his windpipe and fought against the gloved hands holding him in place, and Kaz pulled his cane back to cut off the rest of his air. Gabel's eyes bulged, and he tried to pull the weapon away from his throat; it was no use, and Kaz nodded for you to speak.

"It's my understanding that you think you have a chance at filling the power vacuum left by Pekka Rollins," you said. Gabel's eyes darted away from you as you advanced, and you positioned the tip of your blade against the corner of his eye. It nicked the skin, and blood dripped down his cheek like a gruesome red tear. His gaze turned back to you. "Unfortunately, you treaded too closely into the Dregs' territory and threatened our business. Kaz Brekker is willing to forgive it on three conditions. Wheeze if you're listening."

Gabel let out a barely audible noise of confirmation.

"Good," you said. You held up a finger. "One, you leave the Barrel. Two, you liquidate your possessions here before you leave. And three, you give that money to your dancers and your grunts." The last point was solely your idea; you hadn't discussed it with Kaz, but it was important enough that you would risk his anger at not being informed first. 

You wanted to give the dancers and grunts the choice to get out. It would give them power over their fate you didn't have when you were on that stage.

You pressed the edge of your dagger against the underside of Gabel's chin, watching his lips turn blue. "Do we have a deal?

Kaz loosened his grip on his cane, and Gabel gasped for air. "Speak," he said quietly. There was no shortage of danger in his voice, and Kaz kept his cane braced just tight enough against the man's throat that he couldn't get out of this. There was only one answer available to Gabel if he wanted to live.

"Fuck you," Gabel wheezed.

It was a poor choice.

"I'm going to let you try that again," you hissed. Kaz tightened his grip on the cane again as your blade parted skin. Blood oozed down the metal, and you stopped when the cut was just deep enough for him to understand you were serious. Gabel writhed, trying to fight free. But you hadn't pulled your dagger away, and he only succeeded in cutting himself deeper. "Do. We. Have. A. Deal?"

Gabel finally nodded as best he could with the wooden cane in his way.

You pulled back. "Wonderful." You sheathed your knife inside your coat and met Kaz's gaze. "He's all yours."

Kaz released Gabel, who slumped to the side and clutched his throat. His chest heaved as he gasped for air, but it contracted sharply when Kaz brought the blunt end down on his ribcage. Gabel howled in pain and curled his legs to his chest. "You close today, and the dancers get their money by the end of the week," Kaz growled. "If my Dregs see your face on this side of the East Stave, she," he jerked his chin toward you, "will not be so kind again. And when she's finished with you, I'll ensure nobody finds your body."

He lifted his cane from Gabel's chest and held his hand out to you. You took it, and Kaz led you out of the trap you'd set, down the stairs, and out of the theatre, leaving the sultry music and spluttering excuse of a gang leader behind you.

The two of you moved quickly back into Dregs territory, and Kaz kept his hand around yours the whole time. You waited to speak until you were sure nobody was following, and your shoulders remained tense until your surroundings looked familiar again.

Once the Slat was in view, you glanced up at Kaz. "Do you think he'll actually do it?" you asked. You squinted in the early dawn light. Between the buildings, the sun was beginning to rise; you'd been gone longer than you thought.

"If he has any sense of self-preservation, he will," Kaz answered. He looked down at you, and he evaluated your face. He recognized the worried set of your lips, how you seemed to be waiting for something. "You didn't think I'd follow through on the conditions you set."

"I knew you'd follow through, but I thought you'd be upset I didn't discuss it first." You knew Kaz would never deny anyone their freedom. You just knew he didn't like being left in the dark.

You followed Kaz into the sleepy, abandoned Slat and up the long flights of stairs to his room. Along the way, you shed your coat and threw it over your arm, itching to get out of your dress as soon as possible. Now that you were out of the theatre and back in your domain, you were reminded that you were free. You had control. There was no reason you had to stay in the costume or wear one ever again.

Once in his attic room, you tossed your coat over the rickety chair in the corner and helped yourself to one of his spare undershirts while he sat on the edge of his bed and removed his gloves. You could feel his eyes on you as you untucked the short dress from your pants and pulled it over your head, revealing the skin of your back. Kaz saw the physical scars of years past, visible now in the yellow-orange of the sunrise. He wanted to trace them and kiss the ones along your spine.

He wanted to remind you that you were free and apologize for you playing this role, even though those days should be behind you.

Unaware of his thoughts, you pulled the shirt over your head to conceal most of your scars and turned to face Kaz. He dropped his gaze to his shoes, starting to loosen the laces.

You crossed the room and sat beside Kaz. For a moment, you were silent, figuring out what to say. How to tell him how much his support meant. "Thank you," you finally whispered. It felt as if your scars were floating to the surface of your skin for only him to see. Some bubbled up your throat and past your lips, making you flush as you spoke. "For a long time, I wished I had a choice. I hope that the money gives them a choice. I hope that the ones who want to get out can, and I hope the ones who stay use the money however they want. I don't want them to end up like how I was until I joined the Dregs."

A puppet controlled at the whims of others.

"Don't thank me," Kaz said quietly. "You helped them. You gave them what you didn't have in their position and finished the job. As long as the job is over and you're unharmed." He took your hand in his again and laced your fingers together. His gaze met yours, and you saw an unexpected seriousness in his eyes. "You're alright?"

"I'm alright," you said softly. There was residual coldness from being on stage, from having to step into those shoes for even one set of songs, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been. You had given the dancers and grunts of the former gang the means to escape the Barrel if they chose, and you secured the Dregs for now. 

Protecting the Dregs was a violent cycle of blood, ambushes, fighting, and temporary security. But if some good came out of it and the past you couldn't erase, maybe it wasn't the worst thing in the world. You had some security. You had control over your future.

And you had Kaz, who would be damned if he let Ketterdam take either of those things from you. He'd reduce the city to rubble if it meant keeping the fire in your eyes that he had seen when you first joined the Dregs; then, it was a spark, a hint of what could be. Now, it was an inferno that Kaz would gladly let consume him.

Kaz leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. Nausea twisted in his stomach, and Kaz had to pull his hand out of yours to bear the feeling of his lips on your skin. Still, you smiled and let your eyes slip shut as he somehow said exactly what you needed to hear, what soothed the aching in your chest as the painful memories of a few years ago threatened to make themselves at home.

"Get some rest," he murmured. "I'll get rid of the costume."

TAGLIST: @tonberry-yoda, @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r, @futurecorps3, @statsvitenskap, @sapphiccloud, @casualladyinternet, @d34drapunzel, @noctemys, @whitejxsmine, @so6, @franzelt

[hauntedbythenarrative]

[sxnctxxry]

freddy saying in season 2 we get why kaz and inej can't be together and why they would be perfect for each other is just a different kind of hurt

[neptune-scythe]

We as a society do not talk enough about Freddy Carter's acting in EP 2x05, specifically the scene after the tea in Bhez ju

There are a lot of subtle things that a lot of people probably wouldn't pick up on unless you've had a panic/anxiety attack that I really admire and appreciate

From the moment that scene starts he is looking down, avoiding looking directly at anyone else

He has that exhausted, glazed over, not entirely present look

When he speaks it's quiet and slow, completely absent of the usual bite of sarcasm or annoyance

He only looks up and regains more of his usual attitude when Jesper speaks to him

And that could be interpreted in a couple different ways

Until then it's been all business talk, the seven of them all discussing the job. And as someone who has had a panic attack on the job in front of people ... it leaves a deep shame and embarrassment especially when it effects or hinders the job. And Kaz is obviously feeling that

But in a group conversation it's easier for him to avoid being the center of attention, yes he's still mostly leading the conversation, but the focus of the group is fairly evenly distributed between everyone

But Jesper makes it personal, he singles out Kaz and makes a comment directly to him and only him. And not just any comment. "It's as if I know you"

Now you could interpret that as simply Kaz having attention put on him and thus putting his facade of strength back on.

It could even be a fear of being known, or jesper noticing that he's struggling ... noticing his weakness. Of needing to mask it, so he looks up, he makes eye contact, he plays the character of Dirtyhands the gang leader and shoves everything else down

But I like to think of it another way.

Jesper is one of, if not the oldest friend Kaz has, and one of the people he trusts most. And Jesper may not have been present or known of Kaz's panic attack in shu han ... but he was there in the carriage to Hellgate. And what did he do? He immediately tried to help, and he never questioned it, never pried or made a big deal about it. He saw Kaz in a weakened state, and proved that he could be trusted with it, that he would help and not use it against him.

So rather than a fear of being seen in this moment, I see it was a comfort in being seen. "it's as if I know you" Jes may not know why Kaz panicked, or anything about his past, but he knows he has a weakness, and he doesn't think any differently towards him because of it.

And more than just the words he says, it's the way he says them, it's that usual casual way that Jesper talks, it's his lighthearted banter. It's normal ... as if nothing had happened.

And that is, in my opinion, why Kaz reacts the way he does. Because Jesper is safe, and with just a simple comment he has shown that he doesn't think any less of Kaz, and not even just Kaz as a gang boss but him as a person.

Kaz makes eye contact with him, and regains more of his usual attitude and behaviors for the rest of the scene, and that is, in my opinion, because of Jesper. Not because he is trying to fake normalcy to avoid being seen, but because he has been seen, and accepted without question or negativity. Jes has taken away his embarrassment and shame in that moment, not all of it, of course. But enough to handle, enough to go back to the task at hand, to move on to the next thing instead of focusing on his failures

This was supposed to be a praise of Freddy Carter capturing that post panick attack hangover but the kazper brainrot took over whoopsie

But yeah

Shout out to Freddy Carter for that scene

[turneradora]

Here is the new press article I was talking about yesterday !

Thanks to Emma Jones for the written version !

RIVALS

From Friday, Disney+

By Katie Bigley

Dame Jilly Cooper’s novels have made her queen of the bonkbuster and her army of fans will be thrilled to discover the new TV adaptation of one of her racy novels is just as risqué.

Get ready for sex, scandal and scheming as Rivals hits screens starring Poldark’s Aidan Turner, Doctor Who actor David Tennant and The Boys’ Alex Hassell.

Just like the book, this eight-part series throws a spotlight on the cutthroat world of independent television in the late 80s as Lord Tony Baddingham – played by David Tennant – battles to survive.

But it’s not all business, viewers can expect plenty of backstabbing, too, thanks to the tense rivalry between Lord Baddingham and his charismatic neighbour, Olympian-turned-politician Rupert Campbell-Black (Alex Hassell), who leaves women swooning wherever he goes.

As the war heats up, Aidan Turner’s character, Declan O’Hara, finds himself trapped between the powerful rivals, while both his daughter and his wife are caught in Rupert’s sexual web, which Lord Baddingham is more than happy to exploit.

The series is not for the faint-hearted. Created and produced by ex-EastEnders boss, Dominic Treadwell- Collins, the first episode features six eye-popping sex scenes and a naked game of tennis between Rupert and one of his conquests, Sarah Stratton, played by Inbetweeners star Emily Atack.

No stranger to getting his kit off on screen, Aidan caused a storm when he stripped off in the BBC series Poldark. But, according to the actor, anyone expecting to see Poldark’s chiselled six-pack might be a little disappointed.

“They won’t go mental any more,” he laughs. “I mean, Poldark was a very different character, he was more active, he was a farmer.

“Declan isn’t that. He’s a journalist, and most of his time is spent sitting in a chair.”

With so much bonking, it’s safe to say the show’s team of intimacy co-ordinators were kept busy. But they created such a safe space for the actors that Emily Atack often forgot she was naked.

She says, “I felt so comfortable that I’d forget to put my robe back on. I’d be sitting there and suddenly think, ‘Oh, right, I’ve still got those out!’”

Aidan adds, “It’s the most vulnerable you can be but you have to act the opposite of that. Everyone’s so good at this – it’s not their first rodeo – so we knew how to be professional and everyone felt comfortable on set.”

The cast of Rivals is like a who’s who of British and Irish acting talent, with Victoria Smurfit as Declan’s former actress wife Maud and Katherine Parkinson as author Lizzie Vereker, while Danny Dyer is electronics tycoon Freddie Jones.

“It came to me at a time when I couldn’t do it and I was gutted,” explained Danny, who had just finished playing Mick Carter in EastEnders at the time.

“And then the stars aligned and they came back to me. I think they went to look for Freddie Jones and couldn’t find Freddie Jones.

“I would have been devastated if it hadn’t worked out. But I don’t think anyone else could have played him.”

While Lord Baddingham and Rupert battle it out with ego and arrogance, it’s actually Freddie who is the wealthiest man in the room. But he just can’t stand a snob. “Especially snobs who forget where they came from,” agreed Danny.

“David Tennant’s character, who’s trying to get my money for investment, does something a bit unsavoury and I’m one of the only characters that calls him out for it.”

Katherine’s Rivals alter ego, romance novelist Lizzie, is married to daytime TV presenter James (Oliver Chris) but is living a loveless existence when viewers first meet her.

However, it’s not long before a sexual spark ignites between Lizzie and Freddie. So can fans expect even more bedroom action?

“It’s interesting how it pans out,” explained Danny. “But you’ll be shocked.”

Katherine added: “Bonnie Tyler is involved!”

“It’s the threesome of all threesomes,” added Danny. “Perfect for this series!”

While fans of the novel will enjoy seeing the characters come to life on screen, Katherine said you don’t, like her, need to have read the book. That’s because she believes Jilly’s work is so ingrained in popular culture that everyone will understand what to expect.

“I was very aware that it was ‘raunchy’,” said Katherine. “And I didn’t want my daddy to see!”

But Aidan is convinced that it’s not just the sex that will have fans hooked, whether they have read the novel or not.

He added “It’s taken so long for Jilly to get this on TV. It’s worth the wait. They’re all such great characters. When I read the script, I just thought, ‘I’ve got to do this.’ You ask yourself, ‘Would I feel OK passing on this and watching the show with somebody else playing the role?’

“It’s always a good test, and it freaked me out. I couldn’t do that.”

#Rivals

[jahayla-parker]

Hey so I was wonder if you could write a story with either kaz brekker x ADHD reader or freddy Carter x ADHD reader where the reader is struggling and ends up with haveing breakdown and is in tears with the fact that they can't stay focused and everything is slipping into a mess and they are struggling and they just comfort the reader .

I haven't been feeling very well lately and begin feeling overwhelmed and I love your work

Over It All : Freddy Carter x Reader

Hi! So sorry for just getting to this! Ironically enough, I was experiencing this myself over the last few months. I hope you’re feeling better! 🖤

I did both characters/people, but I broke it up.

In this one you’ll find Freddy’s version. Kaz’s version is coming soon (I’ll tag you in it)

Description: 1.9k wc, reader struggles with her ADHD to the point of breaking into tears, prompting Freddy to come to her aid. Hurt-comfort, angst-fluff

Warnings: ADHD symptoms and experiences discussed, neurodivergencies mentioned, mention of crying and sadness, negative thoughts of self, some angst but fluffy ending/comfort

Y/n sniffled as she aggressively wiped her face with the back of her hand. She couldn’t stop crying. Her ADHD paralysis had flared up and left her feeling hopeless and ashamed of herself. She knew it wasn’t anything she did nor a true flaw, but she could help the misery she felt.

She’d been trying to finish this project for her job since the early hours of this morning. Yet, she’d gotten practically nowhere with it. It was as if there were a million other things her mind would rather focus on. She had lost all control over her flickering thoughts hours ago.

Meaning she was now crying alone in her home-office as her latest attempt to start the project failed. Her husband Freddy was on set filming today, meaning if anything she should’ve had less distractions. But, instead her mind had begun thinking of different tasks she should do for him since he was out. She knew she was screwed when even those self-created tasks weren’t ones she could force herself to do.

Everyone thought ADHD was silly and fun. Sure, some of the behavioral ‘symptoms’ of the condition could be taken that way. But, most of the time one was either overly engaged or under engaged. It was a constant pendulum that caused havoc when it swung too far in either direction.

Today it had swung too far towards the direction of executive dysfunction. Executive dysfunction was a hard concept for many neurotypical individuals to grasp. As such, many neurotypicals saw neurodivergents who were experiencing the effects of executive dysfunction as lazy or inconsiderate. This of course didn’t help the fact that those with ADHD often struggled with their self image already.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to do the work project, and she certainly wanted to do the caring tasks she’d thought of doing for Freddy. Yet, she was stuck. Y/n was not able to get herself to even begin any of the tasks. Instead, she’d wasted the day away in her futile attempts to start them only to fall into self-directed frustration over and over again.

So it came as no surprise that once she’d officially given up on trying to complete anything she had wished to do, she begun crying. She felt like a horrible wife and employee even though she wasn’t. But the frustration she had towards herself and her predicament clouded everything else. Hence why she was willing to sit by herself at her desk as she shook from crying.

Freddy had been home for only a matter of five minutes when he noticed the absence of his wife’s presence. She always seemed to greet him when he’d return if she’d been working from home that day. He recalled having said goodbye to her in their home-office this morning, so why wasn’t she greeting him?

He slowly made his way to their office space to try and see if she was still working. As he entered the doorway, he noticed the way her shoulders were hunched over her desk. He furrowed his brows as he checked that the lights were all on and therefore not the cause of her face being so close to the table.

It was in that moment that he watched her body tremble and heard her faint cries. Once he’d recovered from the sudden sinking in his chest, he took a deep breath and rushed over to her.

“Darling?” Freddy panicked, his hand placed on her upper back delicately.

Y/n’s head snapped up but she didn’t turn to him. Instead, she wiped her face again and took a loud breath. It was clear she was trying to compose herself before she’d face him.

Freddy knelt beside his wife, his worry evident in his features. But he knew not to push her. She’d respond once she felt steady enough to do so.

It took a few moments of silence but she eventually did turn to face him, a fake smile on her face. Freddy shook his head at her blatant coverup and grasped her hand in his tightly. Y/n sighed softly when she realized he wasn’t falling for her pretend happiness.

She didn’t want him to feel sorry for her. Nor did she want him to know she hadn’t been able to accomplish anything today. She felt like a burden. Despite knowing how much Freddy loved and cared for her, she didn’t want him to see her in this state. But she also wouldn’t lie to her husband.

“I… I did not get the project done” she admitted shyly, her hand shoving the planning sheets across the desk towards him.

Freddy’s eyes briefly left her frame to scan the documents she was showing him. He noticed she had a bunch of stray marks and squiggles on the paper. However, nothing else had been added since he saw the sheets this morning.

She didn’t need to tell him what was happening. He knew of her ADHD and the highs and lows that came with it. As such, he knew how to best handle this situation on his end.

“That’s okay love, sometimes ideas don’t flow as easily as they normally do” he encouraged, neatly stacking the papers.

“It wasn’t just the ideas, I couldn’t even start the rest of it. I also…” she sighed as she trailed off and looked away.

Freddy sighed quietly as his heart sank further upon seeing her continued distress. “Y/n, it doesn’t matter what you did or did not do today, you-“.

“I was going to make you that soup you like” y/n interrupted, fiddling with her fingers, “but I couldn’t. I wanted to, but…”.

“But you weren’t able to get up and get started on it” he finished to her, tugging her hand back to him to calm her nervous fidgeting.

She nodded and sighed, “I wanted us to be able to have that soup, but then I began thinking about each step. Washing the dishes to get the ladle clean, getting out the ingredients, chopping the vegetables,..”

Freddy stood up quietly, prompting her eyes to snap upwards to see him. He wasn’t sure why there seemed to be a sense of panic in her y/e/c eyes. But he wished it weren’t there. He didn’t have to wait long to find out the cause behind it as she soon blurted out her worry.

“Please don’t leave” she begged.

Freddy gave her a sympathetic shake of his head, “‘m not, just standing to help guide you to the living room, my love”

Y/n visibly calmed but then began listing off the tasks she still needed to complete.

“Darling, those can all wait. You deserve to rest” he stated.

She shook her head, “no I don’t. I didn’t get anything done today. It’s embarrassing and I-“

“You don’t need to be ashamed” Freddy told her, stroking her cheek as he towered over her seated form.

“I don’t not what I’m doing anymore” y/n exclaimed, “I can’t do anything right”. She glanced up at her husband before continuing to try and explain what she was feeling. “I’m worthless, I can’t even focus on one thing for a mere second” she pointed out.

“Don’t put yourself down like that” Freddy pleaded, his heart clenching. He watched her sigh but nod as if accepting his request. As such he gave her a soft smile and tugged on her hand, “let’s go to the living room. What do you want to do tonight? Don’t worry about how we’ll do it, I’ll handle that. Just tell me what you’d like us to do”.

“I just want to be held for a bit” she admitted quietly as she rose to her feet before him.

“I like this” y/n told him as she snuggled further into his embrace.

Freddy chuckled lightly, “me too. I never want to let go, my love”.

Y/n let her husband hold her and offer her comforting words and back rubs while she tried to silence her mind. He had helped her not feel the deep despair she’d been feeling moments before he arrived. Yet, she still felt she should’ve done so much more today.

Freddy seemed to notice her quietness, his grip tightening ever so slightly. He placed a soft kiss to the top of her head as he hummed. “You don’t have to do it all” he whispered.

“But then people will be let down. If I don’t-“ she began, making Freddy notice the way her pace quickened from her emotions.

“They don’t matter. You matter, my love” he cut her off, carefully brushing his fingers through her tangled hair. “You’re all that matters, and right now you need rest. It doesn’t matter what they need or want” Freddy stated definitively. He smiled to himself as her muscles visibly relaxed.

Freddy was attempting to give her a long thoughtful compliment, but y/n was hopelessly distracted. She’d been staring at his dimples and then at the freckles on his face instead of focusing on what he was saying. She’d tried to listen, truly, but his face was just so beautifully distracting to her.

She broke her gaze from the patch of freckles on his cheek when she noticed she no longer heard his voice. Y/n glanced up at him as she silently hoped he hadn’t asked her a question. Fortunately, she could read his facial expressions and knew he wasn’t awaiting any response. However, she could also tell he had noticed her lack of attention.

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered, “I was listening.. at first. But then I… I wasn’t listening to you, I’m sorry babe”.

He shook his head, “it was I that wasn’t truly listening. If I had, I’d have remembered to use shorter sentences”.

Y/n watched him cautiously as she tried to let his words erase her guilt. It wasn’t until he smiled softly at her and placed a delicate kiss on her cheek that she accepted that her guilt was unfounded. Having realized this, she let her mind wander back to where it was before.

As such, she soon found herself tracing imaginary lines between his freckles with her pointer finger. She was acutely aware of Freddy’s eyes watching her do this. But her attention remained stuck on this unimportant but intriguing task.

“Are you playing connect the dots with my freckles?” Freddy grinned, his cheeks heating up.

Bashfully she nodded and giggled, “yes”.

He smiled widely, “see you focused and completed something”.

“On something minor, for short time” she argued.

“It’s still focus and you need to respect yourself for doing that. Today is just one of those days in which we need to have a more relaxed atmosphere” he stated as if it were the most simple thing in the world.

Y/n was so beyond grateful for her husband. He always seemed to know how to help her when she was in one of her downhill moods. She couldn’t understand how he comprehended her struggles with such ease and patience. But she was eternally thankful for it.

Unbeknownst to her, when y/n first struggled with her ADHD paralysis/executive dysfunction, Freddy had looked into it. She had tried to explain it to him but kept getting too emotional to effectively do so. Not that he minded. But, he took it upon himself to research the issue and see what ways to best offer her help. Clearly, the research paid off.

Freddy Carter Navigation

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Tag list: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r @missdreamofendless @nikfigueiredo

[swanimagines]

FREDDY CARTER'S CHARACTERS AO3 SERIESES

Just in case because people seem to keep forgetting I write for all of his current characters, or then they think I don't write for others than Kaz and Pin anymore and come up to say they're sad about it 😅 I realised that me not having a common post for all of his characters may, again, make people think I no longer write for them.

So, I still write for all of his characters and will love you forever if you request stuff for them!

I DO NOT WRITE FOR FREDDY HIMSELF, THE ACTOR X READERS!! PLEASE STOP ASKING!

Just because I met him does NOT mean I'm comfortable writing for him. I refuse to be called "selfish" for it. I also will not stand insulting other authors who do write Freddy x reader writers, I don't care if you don't like their writing style and "need" my style for Freddy fics. I have boundaries, and writing RPF is one of my boundaries. Please get that into your heads.

Kaz Brekker

Click here to check out/sub/bookmark my multichapter Kaz story - Bastard and the Blood Princess. It isn't included in my Kaz series because my Kaz series folder/Grishaverse series folder is for fics shorter than 5 chapters, mostly oneshots. Bastard and the Blood Princess has one, long, continuous story and not all people may like the plot, opposed to oneshots/short stuff where each fic has its own plot. So to avoid too much hassle, you need to sub/bookmark BatBP in its own work if you want to get notified for updates for it. I will add BatBP to the Kaz + Grishaverse serieses once the whole thing is out.

Pin Hawthorne

Jason Ripper

Tom (15 Days)

Ellis (The Convent)

Gideon Fletcher

David Friedkin (coming)

Possibly more characters to be added. (A clarification just in case: I do not write RPF/fics for the actor, Freddy Carter himself)

Freddy's characters preferences

Preference means there's a scenario, and I'll tell you how different characters would act like with you in those situations. Situation examples may be: your first date with them, them having a crush on you, them when you get injured somehow, them finding you asleep on their bed. Right now including: Kaz Brekker, Pin Hawthorne, Jason Ripper, Tom from 15 Days and Ellis from the Convent. More characters may get added if he potrays more (fictional) people who I feel like writing for. I will also possibly update my old preference sets and add those new characters into them as new characters come.

For anyone who's concerned, THESE ARE NOT ONESHOT COLLECTIONS, they are made using AO3's "series" feature.

If you want to be informed about new fics for any of Freddy's characters I currently write for, create an AO3 account and subscribe or bookmark any of those serieses listed above. There are buttons at the top right corner for those, or on top on mobile. I do not do Tumblr taglists anymore.

Also, if you're wondering, requests are ALWAYS open and you're welcome to leave one or multiple. Just remember to read my rules and pick a request type from this list.

[auroravictorium]

unraveling (k.b.)

"My head is clearly muddied, and I'm so sick of coming undone." - Aeroplane Bathroom by Gordi

Summary: when a plague claims reader's sister's life, the news is delivered in the form of a letter; when she distances herself from everyone and hides the news, kaz fears that something serious is going on until she confesses what happened. Pairing(s): kaz x fem!reader (established relationship - they've been together for a while, so kaz feels comfortable being somewhat close to her) Word Count: ~2.6k Warnings: loss of a sister, heavy mentions of grief, mentions of a plague, brief violence (reader strangles someone) Genre: hurt/comfort Request? Yes (@morrigan-crowmwell)

Author's Note: i'm baaaaaaack and FINALLY on break!! i hope you all enjoy this (not so) little hurt/comfort work - i promise i'm following up with a fluffy one soon :))

It started with a letter a low-level Dreg delivered while the Crows gathered to plan a job.

He passed it to you with a murmur in your ear, and with furrowed brows, you flipped it over to see the return address. It was scrawled in the corner, a few letters missing or blurred together in the author's haste to send the missive, whatever it was. Kaz knew from the surprised look on your face that you recognized the address, but the expression disappeared before the rest of the Crows could notice or Kaz could evaluate it further. 

"I'll be right back," you said quietly, rising from your seat next to Kaz and disappearing into the relative privacy of his room. Had you known its contents, you would have gone to your room a floor down and opened it privately.

When you returned, you seemed unaffected to everyone but Kaz. He noticed the troubled purse of your lips, the way you fought to keep a neutral mask in place. You avoided his gaze as you sat back down, and you hardly contributed to the rest of the meeting, your eyes on the now-crumpled envelope in your hand.

In the two weeks since the letter arrived, you had withdrawn. You didn't visit Kaz in his office, you didn't take shots with Jesper at the Club, and you weren't seen outside your room unless necessary.

When the day for the next job came, you were uncharacteristically sloppy. What should have been an easy in-and-out theft of bank information on a close potential associate of the Dime Lions was nearly botched; knocking the guards unconscious took you longer than it should have, and you almost missed the correct papers in the target's desk. When you found them, the guards were beginning to stir again, and the Stadtwatch were en route.

"What happened today?" Kaz hissed, shutting his bedroom door behind him with a firm click. He leaned his cane against the wall and shed his coat and hat, hanging them on a hook haphazardly nailed into the wall.

You didn't respond, dropping the rolls of parchment onto the crooked table in the corner. The letters of your parents' note to you swam in your vision, and you could still feel the guards' pulses slowing beneath your fingertips as you choked them into unconsciousness. Your eyes burned, and you refused to face Kaz, instead crossing to his window and sitting on the bench beneath it. You wanted to be anywhere else.

If you didn't look at him, you wouldn't have to see or bear his disappointment and anger. And if you didn't see it, you could indulge in the numbness that was easier to feel than grief. It settled over you like a coat soaked by rain: heavy, but at least it protected you from the worst of the weather.

The consequences of your indifference would rip your temporary armor from you and push you into a cold, harsh reality. Your sister was gone, a life taken by a plague brought by an unwelcome merchant to your small town. It was a truth you weren't willing to face yet. So numbness it was, even as Kaz and the letter burning in your pocket urged you to confront your grief.

"Y/N," Kaz said, watching as you seemed to go somewhere else right in front of him. What happened? What did that letter contain? His anger about the job dissipated, and worry rose in its place as you refused to even look at him. 

He dragged a chair away from the crooked table and settled beside you, stretching out his right leg to ease the ache. You didn't acknowledge him moving closer, your eyes locked on the crows pecking outside Kaz's window. 

Some said crows were messengers from beyond, intermediaries between the lost and the living. You scoffed at the notion once, the same way you brushed off the idea of Saints looking over you.

That was before you lost someone. Now, a tiny part of you hoped it was true so you could say goodbye to something. Even a damned bird.

Kaz brushed your knuckles with his gloved hand to get your attention. His eyes scanned your face, so carefully arranged in a facade of neutrality. But there were cracks in it; the wobbling of your bottom lip, how your eyes seemed to shimmer as tears brimmed in them.

Sick and selfish as it was, Kaz wondered if that letter had something to do with him. Was it a warning for her to get away? Was it a threat to her life? Was it a detailed list of every awful, heartless thing Kaz had ever done, making her fear him and regret joining the Dregs?

"What's going on?" Kaz said quietly. His earlier anger was gone, replaced by a worry that ripped away the cloak of numbness you'd shrouded yourself in. Just as you suspected would happen.

His concern left you unshielded and exposed to the tempest of grief you'd tried so desperately to ignore, to push away until it left you alone. Now, your numbness was darkening, like storm clouds rolling over the harbor and promising havoc on the city. It twisted and roiled until it was no longer numbness but the all-consuming feeling of loss.

You wished you could hide from Kaz just so he couldn't see the tears beginning to slide down your cheeks. They were hot and salty and dripped down your neck, and you wiped them away as if you could conceal them. "Don't," you said hoarsely. "Don't ask me that." Maybe he would leave it be, and you could hide again for a while longer.

But it was Kaz. He watched you unravel before him and knew he couldn't leave it be. He wouldn't.

"What did the letter say?" he pressed. Usually, he didn't push you to share your secrets. Saints knew he had his own that he refused to reveal. But he couldn't watch you fracture before him and not know what was happening, especially if he could do something to fix it.

You knew Kaz wouldn't relent until you answered. Numbly, you took the letter from your pocket and held it out, still looking out the window at the crows. They were hopping around one another, picking at the remnants of seeds Kaz had thrown out for them the day prior. 

Kaz took the letter from your fingers and looked down at it, taking in the tear stains blurring the scribbles across the page. Still, the short message was decipherable, and Kaz suddenly understood. As he read those words, he was nine years old again, grieving the loss of his brother and watching birds pick up scraps of food and trash from the streets. Kaz knew precisely what you were feeling, down to the weight on your chest that threatened to crush your lungs.

"I'm sorry," Kaz said quietly. He took your hand and brushed his thumb over the back of your knuckles. This was one of the times when Kaz wished to be close to you. He longed to hug and hold you until sleep came, so you could get a short respite from the grief and know you weren't alone. "I'm so sorry, Bluebird."

His words broke your composure completely. The tender nickname ripped a sob from your throat, and you covered your mouth with your free hand to muffle the sound. You hunched over and hid your face in your knees, losing sight of Kaz and the birds and the world around you as the currents swept you away. You broke your hand free from his, curling in on yourself as you finally let yourself cry before him.

Hesitantly, Kaz moved from his chair to the open side of the bench. He swallowed, forcing away the nagging terror that rose as he gently pulled you into him. Kaz wrapped his arms around your shoulders and held you against his chest, letting you hear his racing heartbeat. It wasn't the smoothest or most confident hug, and he fought hard to battle the discomfort of having you pressed against him like this. But he was trying. If it eased your pain for even a moment, he'd bear the cold harbor lapping at his flesh and the memories of floating bodies tugging at his mind.

It meant more to you than you could tell him, and you couldn't bring yourself to question whether he was sure about this. Instead, you threw your arms around his torso and buried your face in his chest. He was warm and here and alive, and he was everything you needed right then as the dam exploded and any semblance of being okay disappeared. You sobbed into his vest as the truth came crashing down on you, crushing your lungs and making your head throb from the pain of trying to process it.

You weren't sure how long you cried. Somewhere between those initial moments of Kaz's arms around you and when you could finally catch your breath, the sun disappeared, and the stars emerged from behind the clouds. Turning your head to rest your ear against Kaz's heart, you blearily looked out the dirty window; above the clocktower in the distance was the brightest star in the sky. In your exhausted mind, you imagined it was your sister. That brought you more comfort than the legend about crows. She would've hated being a bird.

Somehow, in the warmth of Kaz's arms and with those words in your mind, you drifted into an uneasy sleep. Everywhere your dreams turned, there were crows. Sometimes your sister's laughter replaced their squawking. They dropped bright tulips on a fresh grave before flying away, their wings beating against the cloudy sky.

Kaz thought you had to be uncomfortable with the windowsill pressing into your back and your legs curled up at a strange angle. He carefully shifted, sliding one of his arms under your knees and the other around your shoulders. Then, Kaz stood and carried you over to his tiny bed. You stirred as he set you down and tucked his threadbare blanket around you. He held his breath, hoping you wouldn't wake, and he slowly let it out once you lapsed into stillness once more.

He stayed nearby as you slept, settling on the bench and looking over the city. When his eyes started drooping, he shook himself awake. When that didn't work, he grabbed a book and forced himself to read about Kerch's history.

As the night reached its darkest point and the East Stave reached its most raucous, you stirred into consciousness again. Your eyes were swollen from crying, and your head pounded. Yet the smell of Kaz, all smoke and rum and something rich, enveloped you and soothed you enough that you weren't severely bothered by your physical discomfort. 

You slowly sat up and scooted back against the wall, trying to shake off some of the heaviness lingering over you. Kaz lifted his head from where it was bent over the book in his hands and straightened up when he saw you were awake.

"Hi," he said softly. He closed his book and swung his legs off the bench. "How did you sleep?"

"Poorly." You crossed your legs and looked everywhere but at his face. This was what you'd hoped to avoid. This tense air between the two of you, the result of your inability to keep your shit together until you got to the privacy of your own room. You felt weak, unworthy of being a Crow. You wished the numbness would overtake you again.

Guilt joined the lineup of emotions, and you looked down at your hands. You were lucky they weren't stained with your friends' blood.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Though Kaz's tone wasn't accusatory, you flinched away from it. 

"I didn't want to burden you." You thought you'd be able to grieve in private without worrying the Crows or disrupting a job. Clearly, that wasn't the case; everything reminded you of your sister.

"You're not a burden to me," he said firmly. He understood your words and reasoning all too well, and he hated that he did. But you weren't a burden on him, the same way you never treated him or his failures in your relationship as such. To you, his struggle to touch you wasn't a failure. To him, your grief wasn't a burden. 

Kaz wished you would treat yourself with the same kindness you gave to him.

You kept your gaze fixed on your hands, even as his words caused your cheeks to flush. It took all your self-control to keep tears from brimming in your eyes; you couldn't tell whether they were from sadness or how he said the words as if they weren't up for debate. Like he didn't question the truth in them.

"When I was young, I lost my brother," Kaz admitted. His voice was quiet and suddenly seemed very far away. Your head lifted, and you looked at him in surprise. Kaz didn't notice, and his eyes focused on the Dekappel portrait across the room.

"He died of the Queen's Lady Plague. I got it soon after." He shuddered. He could still remember the feeling of the fever as it immobilized him, weakened him until he couldn't swim and had to use Jordie to get to shore. "There was nothing I could do, and I was alone in the city after that." His gaze finally turned to yours. "But you aren't alone. You have people who understand." I understand. "And you aren't a burden on me, so talk to me. The Crows, the Club, the Dime Lions, they can wait." 

Kaz hoped that you understood the words he wanted to say. You're more important than all of them.

Your bottom lip wobbled, and you slid out of his bed and crossed over to him. You sat beside him and took his hand, though you longed to throw your arms around him again. That was a level of physical contact he needed to initiate.

"Thank you," you whispered. Your eyes shimmered in the moonlight with more tears, and you wiped them away before resting your head on his shoulder to hide your face. You clasped his hand in both of yours and felt him lace his fingers with yours to comfort you. "I want to throw a tulip in the harbor for her tomorrow." Your voice cracked, and you swallowed before continuing. "It was her favorite flower."

"As soon as the sun rises," Kaz promised. He wished he had a gesture to offer for his brother, but Kaz Brekker wasn't known for sentimentality. It wasn't his style.

You lifted your head and wiped away a traitorous tear with the palm of your hand. "We'll bring a flower for your brother, too," you said quietly, watching Kaz's face. Was it too much to suggest? It felt wrong to not offer after he opened up to you.

Kaz's throat tightened, and he turned to look down at you. "That sounds nice." His eyes softened at the earnestness on your face, and he gently squeezed your hand to thank you.

Your shoulders loosened in relief, and you rested your head on his shoulder again, turning your eyes toward the Dekappel on the wall and watching as the moon's rays darkened the rich oil paint. The room was silent, but there was no need to fill it. Instead, you let yourself think of your sister and her tulips.

You'd start to knit yourself back together come morning.

TAGLIST: @tonberry-yodaa, @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r, @futurecorps3, @statsvitenskap, @sapphiccloud, @casualladyinternet, @d34drapunzel, @noctemys, @whitejxsmine, @so6, @franzelt

[samuelyaboyy]

Had to make a introduction abut me cuz idk

My name is Sarah

My favorite shows are the muppet show, animaniacs, ghost and Molly McGee, casagrandes, the loud house, don't hug me I'm scared, sonic x, sonic boom, the letter people, Eddsworld, sesame street, Rocko's Modern Life, Ren and Stimpy, CRiTORA, Catdog, moral Orel, muppets tonight, fanboy and Chum Chum, Fred Figglehorn, cartoonmania, mandela catalogue, walten files, Fred the Show, hi hi puffy Ami yumi, your favorite martian the series, nostalgia critic, angry video game nerd and potter puppet pals

My favorite movies are the muppet movie, the muppets, muppets most wanted, adventures of Elmo in Grouchland, Fred the movie, Fred 3 the movie, Fred 2 night of the living Fred and CartoonMania: the movie

My hyperfixations are mad scientist cartoon, the rockafire explosion, goosebumps, vocaloid, utau and clone high

My favorite music artists are lemon demon, neil cicierega, your favorite martian, will wood, will wood and the tapeworms, tally hall, Bart baker, ghost and pals, your favorite martian and oingo boingo

My favorite video games are quiplash, trivia murder party, trivia murder party 2, Friday night funkin, five nights at Freddy's, Dave and Bambi, sonic the hedgehog, Omori, team fortress 2, roblox, item asylum, survive and kill the killers on area 51, my singing monsters, my muppets show and my singing monsters dawn of fire

My comfort media are inanimate insanity and peewee's playhouse

I am a bisexual, pansexual polyamorous aroace non-binary transgender genderfluid and xenogender boy

I use he/they/faun/xem/it pronouns and neopronouns

I make xenogenders

I make headcanon about characters from every media

I'm neurodivergent, autistic and ADHD

DNI if:

Homophobic

Transphobic

Ableist

Racist

Vegan

Imvu players

P3d0

Autism speaks supporters/defenders

Xenogender anti

Neopronoun anti

RCTA

Z00ph1l3

N$fw

F3t!sh ppl

Inflation and v0r3 enjoyers

Lemon Demon anti

Spam bots

Favorite characters

Muppets - Uncle deadly, Dr phil van neuter johnny Fiama sal minella marvin Suggs Mr poodlepants chip bill the bug bobo the bear lew Zealand doctor Bunsen honeydew beaker Wayne and Wanda waldo C graphic digit newsman bill the bubble guy Wilkins wontkins bobby Benson link hogthrob Constantine the frog Sam the Eagle Howard Tubman Carter Zelda rose and Mulch

Sesame Street - Count von Count, Bill the Bug and Limbo/Nobody

Bart Baker - Taylor Swift, PSY, Lorde, William, Britney spears and Adam levine

Lemon Demon - Neil Cicierega

Animaniacs - Wakko Warner

The Ghost and Molly McGee - Sharon McGee, Leah stein-torres, Pete mcgee, Libby stein-torres, jinx, Molly McGee, scratch, Darryl McGee and Ezekiel tugbottom

Battle for Dream Island - Puffball

Friday night Funkin - Meri, Beepie, Dave and Bambi

Fred Franchise - Fred Figglehorn

Jashin-Chan - Hatsune Miku

CRiTORA - Kimi canicani, Iggy digahol, Avery Darling, eggy, queen virus, dundun qwerty, Pluto Georgia, spottie Leonard and Ernie joefreckler

Adventures of Elmo in grouchland - Huxley

Channel Awesome - Nostalgia Critic/Doug Walker

Muppets 2011 - Tex Richman

Cinemassacre - Angry Video Game Nerd

Muppet Movie - Max, Doc Hopper and Snake Walker

Pokemon - Sylveon

Fred the Movie - Kevin and Judy

Peewee's Playhouse - Cool Cat, Dirty Dog, Conky 2000, Randy and Chairry

Muppets from Space - K. Edgar singer

Rockafire Explosion - Rolfe Dewolfe and Dook Larue

Cartoonmania - Lucifer Killingsworth, Rufus, Ed Ted Ned and Fred, Anne Mermaid, Roy and Professor Qwertyson

Muppets Most Wanted - Dominic badguy

ABC Muppets - Pache/Pizza

Don't hug me I'm scared - Colin and Shrignold

Muppets Tonight - Heather Locklear

Muppets Wizard of Oz - Wicked Witch of the west

Crash and Bernstein - Crash

Fraggle Rock - Large Marvin fraggle

Clone High - Topher Bus, Abe, Professor Scudsworth and Mr. butlertron wesley

Scott the Woz - Scott the Woz

Owl House - Collector

BFFS list

@elle-eedee @emishows123 @splashy900 @boogiestronic80s @nightmaremp @moshywoosh @cheezecirno

Might pin this later 👀

This was inspired by @emishows123

[pinchofhoney]

hello, and welcome in the separate masterlist for my special events, created to avoid unnecessary chaos in this main one

every single one of my unusual works can be found in the list down below. if you enjoy any of these, please consider reblogging ♡

main masterlist

200 FOLLOWER SPECIAL EVENT

BEN BARNES

just another lazy sunday – can you think of a more delightful way to spend a peaceful sunday, than being comfortably nestled at home, embraced by the person who fills your heart with joy?┆︎fluff

a tale of chance and destiny – life can be a whirlwind of surprises, especially when it comes to matters of the heart┆︎angst/fluff

falling – experiencing jealousy is a destructive affliction, and unfortunately, some fans fall victim to it too frequently┆︎angst

stars, strawberries and murder – every tiniest moment in a relationship is worth cherishing┆︎fluff

lights, camera, a(ffe)ction – is it a coincidence that both home and love have the same number of letters? maybe home is not just the four walls of your apartment┆︎fluff

airén – secrets have a way of revealing themselves, especially when alcohol is involved︎┆angst with a twist

if only my heart had a voice – music has the power to tap into our memories and stir up deep-seated emotions. and the beauty of it is that each time we hear a song, it can bring back those same memories and feelings as vividly as the first time we experienced them┆fluff

where it all began – it’s ironic how after concealing them for so long, feelings can be revealed in just one evening┆fluff

ben barnes as...

THE DARKLING

left behind – life had never been fair to you, and you knew it all too well. so when you found yourself falling for the tall, charismatic commander of the second army, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was just another cruel joke that life was playing on you. but as it turned out, the joke was on you all along┆angst

FREDDY CARTER

freddy carter as...

KAZ BREKKER

take a hint – it seems that Kaz always expects you to read between the lines, even though you are a thief and not an expert in interpreting written texts┆friends to lovers

PEDRO PASCAL

don’t stand so close to me – there’s always been an air of excitement surrounding secret relationships┆fluff

400 FOLLOWER SPECIAL EVENT (fluff alphabet)

BEN BARNES

letter D

letter F

letter J

LEE DONG WOOK

lee dong wook as...

RYU SOO YEOL

letter L

SEO MOON JO

letter O

letter P

OSCAR ISAAC

oscar isaac as…

STEVEN GRANT

letter I

letter M

MARAUDERS

SIRIUS BLACK

letter C

letter Z

[wolfridds]

freddy carter and kaz brekker fans after watching s&b: “omg i just watched freddy’s horse show for the first time!”

me who had already fallen in love with pin back in 2017 when the free rein released and calls free rein their comfort show and rewatches it at any minor inconvenience in life to this very day but watched s&b bc freddy carter was in it: “y’all didn’t know about his horse show?”

[munsontm]

'my most significant influence is just real life.' A candid discussion with Corroded Coffin frontman Eddie Munson. Gerri Miller.

Metal Edge, 8th March 1991.

On the fifth of February, 1991, Corroded Coffin, a four-piece heavy metal band from Hawkin's Indiana, a rural town rife with tragedy and mystery, made Grammy and music history by being not only the first of the genre to win album of the year but said album also happened to be their debut. The album in question, entitled Stranger Things, is being hailed all over the country as a truly original and thought-provoking journey with a multitude of themes contained in a fantastical and, frequently, dark world narrative. I caught up with the band's frontman, Eddie Munson, in hopes of learning more about the mysterious and polarising figure who shot for the stars on his first try and made it all the way to the moon.

It was a rare rainy morning in downtown LA when I met Eddie at The Beverly Hills Hotel. He told me he'd have preferred to meet at Starbucks or something, but management insisted on somewhere 'fancy' in his words. There's not a shred of his theatrical stage wear or make-up to be seen except for chipped black polish on his nails. He's dressed down in stonewash jeans, a black vest, and a red plaid shirt complete with Nike sneakers that he tells me aren't his. Eddie offered me a cigarette once we got comfortable in the hotel bar, and I felt struck by the disarming power of his smile. I couldn't say no to him, and apparently, neither can America.

How's it going, Eddie?

Eddie: Yeah, you know. Pretty good. This hotel is weird, though, right?

You don't like it?

Eddie: Ehh...it's just kinda snobby for my tastes. It's not very me, I guess. And it's not what I'd like Corroded Coffin to be associated with. None of us come from money, and neither do our fans. We're a band for the 99%, and we're determined to stay true to that. I think I'd straight up quit music if someone told me that Bush liked our tunes.

You're not a fan of the president, then?

Eddie: Dude, what do you think? I grew up with Nixon, Ford, Carter, and Reagan, each more useless than the last, and determined to keep up the status quo of anti-queer, pro-guns, and the nuclear family. That's all they do, like glorified caretakers, I guess. People bitch about change, but they still keep voting for the same two dumb fucks every single time. Where's the progression? It ain't there, man.

Anti-queer, anti-guns and the nuclear family are pretty polarising subjects. How do you feel when people in the industry label you as a polarising figure?

Eddie: I fucking love it. I knew years ago that if we ever made it big, people were gonna hate us. I've always been loud and weird and annoying, never knowing when to shut my mouth. But I'm at peace with it, proud even. Yeah, I'm queer. Freddie (Mercury) doesn't hide it. Why should I? Yeah, I'm pro-feminism, anti-government, anti-society, an atheist, anti-guns, pro-abortion, and pro-drugs. Whatever has been said about me in pro and anti-contexts is probably all true. I'm the antichrist to the normie Americans, and that makes me giggle at night. Let them be mad about it and live in fear of the other for once.

People back in my very conservative hometown hated me, too, because I was different and poor. It's no different from that, and I'm not scared about it anymore, like when I was that kid in Hawkins. The difference now is that there are people out there who like my big mouth. There are freaks all over the country who are just like me. It's pretty fucking cool.

Those are some pretty brave statements to make.

Eddie: Nah. Lots of them are already there on the album. I've never been shy about any of 'em, even when meatheads at our gigs decide to throw bottles at us and act like little bitches. Go watch Axel Rose if you want some fresh bigotry with your metal. Although, is it even really a metal concert if someone doesn't throw something at you? The answer is no. The point is that the stage and the studio are my space to say what I want and then reach other people with the same thinking. I'm not going to stop doing that ever.

What's your private life currently like?

Eddie: Private. Next.

You're very secretive about that part of your life, aren't you?

Eddie: Yeah. Cus, like I said, bigots exist. I might like to suck both dick and eat pussy, and be okay with admitting that to the world. But I'm not stupid enough to give away my private life details where any creep can read them. Can we move on now? [This next part was originally redacted by Eddie, but then he changed his mind.] Still, my partner could be the shit outta any phobe. They fought a bear once and won...more than once.

Sure, Eddie. What first got you into music?

Eddie: I think the first time music really crawled inside my brain was when I heard All Along The Watchtower by Jimi Hendrix on the radio one summer. Mmm, I can't remember if I was four or five, but it was around then. It wasn't even about the lyrics. I didn't learn what they were until later. It was the guitar work that blew my tiny baby mind to somewhere else, maybe another plane of existence, albeit temporarily, so unfortunate. But I couldn't get that raw sound out of my mind, and I became instantly addicted, looking for similar sounds everywhere. I'd heard guitars playing before, but never like that. Never that level of genius. It kinda made me wanna cry with the emotions it brought out of me because I grew up in an environment where emotions weren't allowed if you were a boy. Jimi gave me my first outlet, and I'll be eternally grateful for that. Rest in peace, dude.

Is that what music is for you, an expression of yourself?

Eddie: Well, yeah. Music is part of who I am. Even when it's not a personal expression of myself, it's still an expression of my beliefs and ideals. Music is art; music is political and radical. But I also can't deny there's plenty of very personal shit in my lyrics. The day I write a fluff song is the day I'll have officially lost my marbles.

Who inspired you to make music?

Eddie: Haha, I'm pretty sure this is the most well-known fact about me, which is my boner for Black Sabbath and Ozzy Osbourne. In 1972, Children Of The Grave was released, and I was lucky enough to see it performed live on TV. If Christ were real, that moment would have been my coming of Christ. I was like eight then, so the lyrics mattered more. But Ozzy himself was like a fantastic madman, and no one was doing it like him. He just didn't and still doesn't give a shit about what anyone thinks of him. I admire that so much, and I strived to be like that, too, for as long as I can remember. Not giving a shit was my shield in high school. People were afraid of that, that I didn't follow the rules or pretend to be good as gold. Yeah, it invited trouble, too, being loud and annoying. But it felt great at the same time.

How would you describe the music that you typically create? What are your influences?

Eddie: Uhh, if you wanna talk genres, then I guess I'd describe it as horror or fantasy metal. I wouldn't want to be described as your average metal band. That'd be the freaking worst. Many of my influences come from Dungeons & Dragons, Heavy Metal (the science-fiction and fantasy magazine/comic), and Lord of The Rings. But then you got literary influence from Edgar Allen Poe, Stephen King, Mary Shelley, and H.P. Lovecraft.

But I guess my most significant influence is just real life. Take real life and smash it together with all the aforementioned shit. Things get crazy pretty quickly. I've been able to channel a lot of the bad things that happened in my life through those things, and apparently, I'm not the only one that likes it. Although, my dad probably hates that I'm getting rich from what a cunt he is. But I love it.

Who would you most like to collaborate with?

Eddie: Ozzy Osbourne, of course. But there's also DIO too. Slayer would be sweet too—ugh, and Judas Priest. Basically, there are too many potentials to pick from, and I'm indecisive, so I don't think I should be allowed to pick in any realistic context. Gare and Jeff can deal.

What is one message you would give to your fans.

Eddie: First of all, I love them very much. Each and every single one of them made Corroded Coffin possible. Artists are nothing without their fans. Right from the three drunks back in Hawkin's to the dude who flashed his pink nipple tassels at me during every indie gig, he's awesome. We wouldn't be here without them. I hope they continue supporting our madness and being just as mad themselves. The world always needs more freaks in it.

What is the most useless talent you have?

Eddie: I can tuck my dick and balls back and do Gonzo impersonations with em'. Just draw some eyes on my guys, and wiggle it all about. It's a great party trick. But I'm not allowed to show it to anyone because that's embarrassing, according to my partner. And I can quote Lord of The Rings by page number, depending on the edition. Though people in my circle consider that to be pretty cool, just saying.

Do you sing in the shower? What songs?

Eddie: Man, all I do is sing around the house. It drives the neighbours fucking nuts. Fortunately, my partner is fully endeared by it. But I usually sing what comes to mind or whatever trash is on the radio. There's a WHAM song stuck in my head right now, and I hate it. Fully hate it. I want to make it stop.

What would you be doing right now, if it wasn’t for your music career?

Eddie: Honestly, I don't even wanna think about it. Music is all I ever wanted to do. Considering something else was never an option for me.

What's a typical day like for you?

Eddie: I have to be dragged out of bed wherever I'm sleeping. Whether it's at home, the studio, or in a hotel. I'm not a morning person, and it's a lucky day if I manage to hit the toilet rim without a cup of coffee in me. After that, I'm usually writing for most of the day, right now, until my partner makes me eat and take a chill pill. There are also lots of scheduled interviews and shoots going on, what with the Grammy win and all. I'm not used to such hectic schedules, so it's been completely nuts as of late. I only get around four hours of sleep, and that sucks. But it's just part of the job.

What is your favourite song to perform?

Eddie: Fuck. I hate this question because I can never answer it the straightforward way. There isn't one song to beat all, but it's usually a tie between Red and Sword and Shield. They're my magnum opus, at least for now. Because as a musician, I always strive to outdo my last song.

Why those two songs, what do they mean to you?

Eddie: Red is just a sick tune, ya know? I took inspiration from a person in my life, a kid who used to live in the same trailer park as me. She's probably one of the bravest people I've ever met, and my batshit brain couldn't let go of the idea of making a song about her bravery. If it wasn't for them, myself and many others wouldn't have made it out of the Hawkin's earthquake alive. That's why Red is so bassy and riffy, and Gareth even broke a fair couple of sticks while we were recording—the musical energy needed to match her intensity and what she went through to help people. Women's heroics ain't recognised enough in any media, so it was a no-brainer to me to include her story as part of Stranger Thing's overall journey.

As for Sword and Shield, that's way more personal. The context behind that changed my life. It's about two people casting aside preconceptions of one another and fighting their inner demons together cus I found out around the time of writing it that you can't do that alone; fight your inner demons and get past your past. And yeah, there's a splash of homoerotica; sue me. It's one of the...no. It's the only balladesque song on the album cus it's the only balladesque song I've ever written. Most of the music for Sword and Shield was me and a guitar; everyone else is a more subtle background, I guess. It needed to be like that. I needed it to be a private experience for me and my sword.

Your sword?

Eddie: Yup. Next question.

What is the most trouble you’ve ever gotten into

Eddie: Aw, c'mon. Do ya'll really gotta bring it up in every interview? Every goddamn tabloid in the country went off about it. Murder accusations and Satanic worship, which were all overwhelmingly disproven. The state even apologised to me. I'm done talking about that part of my life.

Apologies, Eddie. You're right. What is the best advice you’ve been given?

Eddie: Smooth recovery, buddy. Alright. I've had plenty of decent advice from people like Ozzy, Doro, Dio, and Dave Mustaine. Lots of D's, for some reason. But, I think my Uncle Wayne probably gave me the best life advice, which was always to be myself. Never pretend to be someone you're not, even when it's hard. He told me that when I was thirteen, and I've always stuck by it. What you see is what you get. I don't have a stage persona like a lot of people do. It's all just me. I don't think I'd be able to handle this kinda life if I had to pretend to be someone else, ya know? Being true to myself and my vision is what has gotten me here, that and my boys, my fellow losers and freaks.

If you could change anything about the metal industry, what would it be?

Eddie: Well, shit. That's a loaded question, and it's gonna get one of those so-called controversial replies that I always apparently have. There are not enough women in this industry, at least not in the American mainstream, aside from Doro, and she takes a lot of shit. Bands like Girlschool, Black Knight, Messiah Force, and Rock Goddess, they're all absolutely badasses, who are just as good, if not better, than many of their male contemporaries. Man Metal, let's call it that for a moment, has way too many tunes about sexualising cars and having sex with women and boohooing about our drug problems. It's all repetitive, gets boring, is boring.

I think heavy metal should be more of an open genre. Manufactured pop music always has centre stage in the music industry, sadly. But rock 'n roll is about rebellion and doing what society doesn't deem normal. Why is the heavy-metal movement just entrenched in working-class dudes? Bearing in mind I am one of those dudes. We've got more in common with the many marginalised groups in this country, mainly that the government hates us, instead of the upper classes who use pop culture, music included, to promote the fake American Dream. If we could all come together under the power of rock 'n roll. I think beautiful things could happen. We could have a revolution.

What do you think are the chances of such a grand scale thing happening?

Eddie: Uhh, pretty much zero.

What’s next for you?

I'll be writing Corroded Coffin's next album while on a national tour that I think is being announced next week. I can't remember. Maybe I wasn't supposed to talk about that. Oh, well. Surprise! I've also been asked to pose for Playgirl, which is fucking wild. I didn't see that coming in a million years.

What? Like full frontal?

Eddie: God, I fucking hope so. The pearl clutching will be spectacular.

Corroded Coffins album, Stranger Things, is out now via Mercury Records.

[arillusionist]

s&b season2ep4 reaction!! book update: i finished seige and storm. it was lwk boring and im literally so mad bc alina deserves SO much better than mal hes such a hoe. anyways

help whats going on i kinda forgot what happened in the last episode

time to go read my own reaction

HELL NAH ITS BEEN A WHOLE WEEK SINCE I WATCHED THIS SHOW?? anyways i kinda remember the last ep now but my reaction is mostly crows stuff so it wasnt That helpful

ANYWAYS

even though mal is muchhhhhh better in the show i like the direction theyre taking with alina actually marrying nikolai

then again i havent read the kos duology (yet) so i dont know anything abt his real romance story so thats probably why i dont mind

stop mal telling alina shes his nation is so cute unlike in the books

and the way they actually do have some chemistry?? im sorry for ever hating you show malina 😔😔

is that the brother i cant tell

why does baghra lwk piss me off ...i cant tell if its because she wont stfu or because shes js boring

GENYA ☹️☹️

🥱🥱

FINALLY

"it'll give me some comfort to know you're with me" ohhhdhfmyygodddd and then her smile ahhhh

i cant tell if inej is mistaking kaz telling her to leave the city as him wanting her gone, when in reality hes js tryna protect her

or if shes just not promising it because she cant

theyre so complicated they make me sick (i love them 😭😭😭)

AWW THE I LIKE YOUR STUPID FACE LINE its different but whatever

WAITT JESPER BASICALLY CALLED HIM AND KAZ BROTHERS AND KAZ DIDNT EVEN DISAGREE?? HE LITERALLY AGREED

no cuz i actually thought kaz was gnna punch him or something but thats nice

no mourners no funerals 🙏🙏

NINA DECKING KAZ HELL YEAH I NEEDED TO SEE THAT

Dont take this as me disliking kaz btw hes my 2nd favorite character i js need to see him being put in his place

i have the most out of pocket thing to say but im not gnna say it

there are two heartrenders right there why dont they just check his pulse to see if hes lying

oh now they do it

i feel like maybe this is how they incorporate the crows into alina's plot - they'll ask them to find the sword since theyre criminals and know more than just the "wider black market"

IM LITERALLY A GENIUS HELLO????

NOT ME PREDICTING IT LIKE 2 SECONDS BEFORE HE SAYS IT

they cant just show kaz and nina for two seconds and then cut to another scene hello

OH NVM its an inej scene 🙏🙏

its so dark i can barely tell whats happening

oh they did the pox thing too they really taking half of crooked kingdom's plot huh

yeah now they decide to explain the plan

kaz is actually being so much like book kaz in this scene

"the trick is not to love anything" YEAH YOU KEEP TELLING YOURSELF THAT... and with nina in the background too?? i wish inej was here tho like in the books

i think shes busy saving those randos

"something you'd sacrifice everything for and it makes you weak" stop projecting

SIX FEET DEEP

see inej really needs to be here now nina and jesper kinda know his backstory but she doesnt

then again its more meaningful if he tells her on his own time

HIS SMIRK

"im begging you" "are you?" hes not begging but i can

sorry

HIM ASKING FOR THE QUITCLAIM DEED FOR INEJ 🥺🥺 him liquifying everything he owns in the books is still better tho

THE LOOK IS HIS EYES - this is not freddy carter acting as kaz this is LITERALLY kaz

lmfaoo the offended look on toyla's face

WHYD THAT ACTUALLY SCARE ME (the guy sneaking up behind mal)

ok so i have a class so i'll watch the rest later

im backkk

seeing that vasily guys face after a few hours is such a jumpscare like why is he so ugly

bruh i jus realized theyre not gonna do the thing where inej cuts a line above pekkas heart 😐another kanej moment wasted

hjdkfk wylan hiding under the table when jesper asks him out

this conversation is so awkward i keep pausing it 😭

its cute tho

omg just kiss already the tension is getting to me

finally!!! 🙏🙏

WAIT FUCK I JS REALIZED THATS ANOTHER MOMENT WASTED CUZ THEY CANT DO THE JESPER KISSING THE WRONG GUY THING IF THE SPINOFF HAPPENS

im not really liking how they did wesper anyways.... with the whole one night stand thing... 😐

ok. yeah. wow. go from super cute fluffy wesper to kanej angst. yeah. remind me of what i dont have.

kaz saying that theres a weak link in the crew and inej thinks it means her but hes actually talking ab HIMSELF because shes his weakness and shes the person he would sacrifice everything for and AUGHHH

the difference between the show and the books when kaz gives her the paper is crazy

wish they had kept the book's scene fr

waittt is nikolai adopted??

oh he is

tamar and nadia definitely have something going on its already canon that nadia is into girls so!!

did the vasily guy die i hope he did 🙏🙏

why didn't baghra just. do that before. yk BEFORE she got her damn finger cut off

"your obsession with the fold is naive" is bro talking about alina or himself

and thats it watch me wait another week again before watching the next episode 💀