#do you think god has a sense of humour? if so is it a cruel sense of humour? does he play with human like vicious child with garden insect

[dearest-lady-disdain]

say what you will abt donna tartt but in the goldfinch she introducted this one slavic character, gave him three most reletable slay lines about grief, loss and god's cruelty all in one page and i think that's great

[wystiix]

talk to me, please

❥ pairing: venti x gn!reader ❥ synopsis: Venti anxiously waits for a text from you to the point where he overthinks and nearly spirals into madness—will you please just fucking reply already? ❥ cw: crack, attempt at humour (kms), fluff maybe?? not proof-read so some stuff may not make sense lmao ❥ additional tags: lowkey kinda revolves around texting, venti's perspective, no pronouns for reader, modern setting, venti is a humanities major cuz i said so, does this count as socmed??? idk someone tell me i need to sleep it's 2am ❥ word count: 955 ❥ notes: bonjour hi hello kumusta. my foot is fucking asleep and my leg feels numb and my back hurts and i'm tired an it's 2am i have school i need to stop. okay so for context i was texting this girl and she wasn't replying so i went crazy, and then i thought "wait i could write a fic about this" and here we are. it was actually kinda fun writing this HAHAHAHAHA but i had to rush it cuz i have other stuff to do so uh it may be a bit quick. (see end notes after reading cuz i said so /j)

The clock ticked. It had been three hours. Venti stared at his phone, impatiently waiting for you just please, please, please reply.

Try to distract yourself, one may say, and mark these fucking words, he did.

He tried everything. From listening to music to doing the dishes, to cleaning his room. Oh, but that was not all.

For the past few hours, he reorganised his notes, desk and playlist, walked at least twenty laps around his dorm, ate all his snacks from the pantry like a fatass, cleaned up his closet and planned what he was going to wear a week from now, learned a new song on his guitar and even counted every single one of his ceiling and wall tiles.

There were exactly 146 tiles in his dorm. That number now forever haunts him.

Practically exhausted from being way too productive than he usually was, he slumped down on his bed and opened the app he used to text you. There was still no reply.

Venti buried his face into his pillow, letting out a groan of frustration.

It was incredibly frustrating and it nearly drove him crazy. Were you seriously that busy? Normally you would respond within a span of seconds, a few to thirty minutes at the latest. But fucking three hours?

He couldn’t let this opportunity slip away. You both had been talking for over a week—he couldn’t afford to mess this up. 

But what if you suddenly lost interest? Oh, it felt far too early for that. Was he finally going to have that Mitski experience? Was he going to be those depressed poets who poured their hearts out through their ink on the paper when a single minor inconvenience happened to them? 

You were killing him. And it was not softly. Venti felt as if his heart was shattering into a million pieces.

Was this his destiny, his punishment for choosing to pursue such a depressing major in humanities?

How cruel the universe is.

He sighed in defeat, opening his notes app to write and exude a poetic, Shakespearean ballad about this before his phone suddenly buzzed.

Ding! You have received a new message from [Name]!

Holy shit has his fingers never moved so quickly before in his entire life, clicking on the notification faster than he could blink. Your sudden message almost gave him a heart attack, for fuck’s sake.

So much for living and breathing Shakespeare.

Oh, how his heart fluttered. A simple message, yet it had him forget about his lament just a few seconds prior and he found himself swooning, practically glazing your message as if it was the most fascinating piece of literature he had ever laid eyes on.

Venti paused, rereading your message 25 million times, unsure how to reply. Should he respond right away, or would that be too eager? He didn’t want to come off as desperate, but three hours of waiting had been excruciating. Perhaps he should wait a minute or two… No, that would be too long!

God he wanted to punch himself in the face for clicking that notification too fast, now he has to think of a response on the spot or else he’d look like an asshole.

He started to type out a response.

k, i see.

He paused, immediately deleting the message with a shake of his head. Too dry, he has to sound interested. I understand! Would you like to shift the conversation to a less taxing topic? Delete. Too formal. LMAOOO dw dw, what was it about anyway? Delete. ahh hope the essay didn’t stress u out too much!! Delete. i’m madly in love with u Delete. Had he sent that he would find the nearest cliff and leap off.

Venti sighed, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. Why was this so complicated? He wanted to sound interested, but not desperate; casual, but not indifferent. He ended up typing something simple and hitting send before he could second-guess himself again. Sometimes, being simple is the ultimate sophistication.

He fought the urge to chuck his phone across the room. Shit, was that too casual? How long were you going to reply this time?

There were immediate blinking dots.

The tension in his chest eased as he found himself giggling at your comment. He realised the way he was acting earlier was ridiculous, maybe this wasn’t so bad.

Venti felt the weight lift off his shoulders. The conversation was back on track, and he could breathe easy again. Just as he was about to put down his phone, the blinking dots appeared again, and he immediately reverted his attention back to it.

Another message.

What.

What the fuck. Was this real?

He put his phone face down, allowing everything to sink in.

What the fuck. Coffee? Tomorrow? With you? Did you just ask him out? Was this real? Was he real? Were you real?

The anxiety that lingered within slowly ebbed away as he stared at the ceiling tiles—the same tiles that haunted him earlier. However, they now seemed oddly comforting.

“Holy shit.”

Gods above, was this a blessing? Maybe his love life wasn’t so hopeless after all.

Venti’s gaze drifted to his closet, where he noticed that same outfit he intended to wear a week from now. A cozy, soft-beige sweater with a hint of cream peeked out from behind a row of neatly hung clothes, gently draping over a pair of charcoal chinos.

He grinned like an idiot, giggling and kicking his feet like a little child who just received their favourite toy. A string of “oh my god, oh my god” repeated endlessly in his head like a loop.

And for once, the silence didn’t feel so heavy.

❥ notes: hi so yes. yes i did what he did here. yes i counted my tiles, but it was my bathroom tiles instead. there are like 121 tiles in the bathroom, including the hidden ones. in this fic i just added the average number of tiles to that number which was like 25 tiles??? lowkey idk i just estimated. and yes i did plan my outfit a week from now, which is for church. yes i cleaned my room. yes i walked more than ten laps around my living room. i was restless. yes i was productive as hell. lmfao by the time i was done with the fic she replied to me so yay!! win!! also pls get the "you were killing him and it's not softly" reference i hope someone at least gets it or else i'm gonna cry myself to sleep. yeah anyways im gonna sleep gn <3

[ninadove]

Nina reads Dracula 🦇

September 22nd

[…] I felt Jonathan clutch my arm so tight that he hurt me, and he said under his breath: "My God!" I am always anxious about Jonathan, for I fear that some nervous fit may upset him again; so I turned to him quickly, and asked him what it was that disturbed him.

He was very pale, and his eyes seemed bulging out as, half in terror and half in amazement, he gazed at a tall, thin man, with a beaky nose and black moustache and pointed beard, who was also observing the pretty girl. He was looking at her so hard that he did not see either of us, and so I had a good view of him. His face was not a good face; it was hard, and cruel, and sensual, and his big white teeth, that looked all the whiter because his lips were so red, were pointed like an animal's. Jonathan kept staring at him, till I was afraid he would notice. I feared he might take it ill, he looked so fierce and nasty. I asked Jonathan why he was disturbed, and he answered, evidently thinking that I knew as much about it as he did: "Do you see who it is?"

PANIC

After a few minutes' staring at nothing, Jonathan's eyes closed, and he went quietly into a sleep, with his head on my shoulder. I thought it was the best thing for him, so did not disturb him. In about twenty minutes he woke up, and said to me quite cheerfully:—

"Why, Mina, have I been asleep! Oh, do forgive me for being so rude. Come, and we'll have a cup of tea somewhere." He had evidently forgotten all about the dark stranger, as in his illness he had forgotten all that this episode had reminded him of. I don't like this lapsing into forgetfulness; it may make or continue some injury to the brain. I must not ask him, for fear I shall do more harm than good; but I must somehow learn the facts of his journey abroad. The time is come, I fear, when I must open that parcel, and know what is written. Oh, Jonathan, you will, I know, forgive me if I do wrong, but it is for your own dear sake.

They are so soft to each other… and so sad… and so scared…

A sad home-coming in every way—the house empty of the dear soul who was so good to us; Jonathan still pale and dizzy under a slight relapse of his malady; and now a telegram from Van Helsing, whoever he may be:—

"You will be grieved to hear that Mrs. Westenra died five days ago, and that Lucy died the day before yesterday. They were both buried to-day."

Oh, what a wealth of sorrow in a few words! Poor Mrs. Westenra! poor Lucy! Gone, gone, never to return to us! And poor, poor Arthur, to have lost such sweetness out of his life! God help us all to bear our troubles.

What a day uh

It is all over. Arthur has gone back to Ring, and has taken Quincey Morris with him. What a fine fellow is Quincey! I believe in my heart of hearts that he suffered as much about Lucy's death as any of us; but he bore himself through it like a moral Viking.

Supporting his friend 🥺

Arthur was saying that he felt since then as if they two had been really married and that she was his wife in the sight of God. None of us said a word of the other operations, and none of us ever shall.

Again with the inherent homoeroticism of blood transfusions…

The moment we were alone in the carriage [Van Helsing] gave way to a regular fit of hysterics. He has denied to me since that it was hysterics, and insisted that it was only his sense of humour asserting itself under very terrible conditions. He laughed till he cried, and I had to draw down the blinds lest any one should see us and misjudge; and then he cried, till he laughed again; and laughed and cried together, just as a woman does.

He gave his all to save Lucy despite not knowing her at all! And yes part of it is certainly that he wanted to defeat the incarnation of evil single-handedly, but no one can deny he cared.

My heart bleed for that poor boy—that dear boy, so of the age of mine own boy had I been so blessed that he live, and with his hair and eyes the same.

Oh. Oh…

"Said he not that the transfusion of his blood to her veins had made her truly his bride?"

"Yes, and it was a sweet and comforting idea for him."

"Quite so. But there was a difficulty, friend John. If so that, then what about the others? Ho, ho! Then this so sweet maid is a polyandrist, and me, with my poor wife dead to me, but alive by Church's law, though no wits, all gone—even I, who am faithful husband to this now-no-wife, am bigamist."

That explains so much…

"Friend John, forgive me if I pain. I showed not my feeling to others when it would wound, but only to you, my old friend, whom I can trust. If you could have looked into my very heart then when I want to laugh; if you could have done so when the laugh arrived; if you could do so now, when King Laugh have pack up his crown, and all that is to him—for he go far, far away from me, and for a long, long time—maybe you would perhaps pity me the most of all."

I was touched by the tenderness of his tone, and asked why.

"Because I know!"

💔

And now we are all scattered; and for many a long day loneliness will sit over our roofs with brooding wings. Lucy lies in the tomb of her kin, a lordly death-house in a lonely churchyard, away from teeming London; where the air is fresh, and the sun rises over Hampstead Hill, and where wild flowers grow of their own accord.

So I can finish this diary; and God only knows if I shall ever begin another. If I do, or if I even open this again, it will be to deal with different people and different themes; for here at the end, where the romance of my life is told, ere I go back to take up the thread of my life-work, I say sadly and without hope,

"FINIS."

Imagine if the book actually ended there

< Prev 🦇 Next >

[degrees-of-fuck]

good day lilac, how r you, can i get more clara fun facts, she cutie 🤲🤲🤲

Good day 2 u Also and thank u ugyhkjn <3 <3 I'm pretty bleh and tired lately tbh, but very much in the mood to go on a ramble about my brain blorbos

You Sure Can ✨ puts her into your open hands

Clara has high purity due to her just kind of. Continuing to be a virgin I guess. And because she's gotten very good at Distracting things from penetrating her in any sense. As a result, she's Occasionally spotted with a faint halo - something she considers to be a sick, sick joke at her expense. She knew god had a cruel sense of humour, but damn.

I feel like maybe one or two people are capable of telling whether she's joking or serious most of the time, unless she's actively forcing herself to emote for some reason. So she says a LOT of out there shit with a look of total sincerity. This may or may not be one of the reasons her peers generally dislike her. She's fuckin weird and hard to read. (Not to mention a Nerd)

I once had the mental image of Clara filling milk bottles with her tit milk and selling them - which led to the mental image of Bailey using her milk for Orphanage Food Stuff rather than having to buy it, because why the fuck wouldn't they save money by exploiting their charge? (I mean she's already their cashcow)

One time in my game she tried to stand up for Sydney with 0 intent of getting Physically involved, but this 'somehow' lead to her getting beaten up. Which lead to particularly violent molestation, predictably. Right in front of Sydney. They did not notice and were just sort of acting like they were fighting and never seemed to really Notice what was actually happening there?? I guess their glasses were broken? Either way this really does feel like the perfect instance to describe the thought process that lead Clara to want to corrupt them

Botany Nerd Botany Nerd Botany Nerd Botany Nerd

While I think Closetgoth Corrupt Sydney has a pretty different aesthetic to her, I do imagine it has the odd shared element and I like the idea of them sharing certain accessories, or Clara giving them a couple things to get their collection started.

Fun Fact: u should pick her up and fling her into the ocean

Because she cares about fashion (or rather, her own fashion. not much one to keep up with what anyone else is doing) I feel like she has a slowly, but constantly growing collection of cowbells.

At the moment I saw this ask I was looking for sims cc to make her in my game again. Not really a fact about her, I just thought it was neat.

Her ears and tail are the most expressive parts of her I think? With their flapping and twitching. Even then though, she keeps them under good control around most people. (First time Robin was immediately able to tell she was lying about some dumb shit due to the movements of her tail giving it away, she had a big old panic attack. She REALLY relies on Dishonesty Powers. Had to re-learn a bit when new tics showed up.)

Even with her glasses she has pretty bad vision, tbh. She's not super near or farsighted, it's just... Bad. General low vision.

For Sims Reasons, I’ve been trying to think of what surname the orphans that have always been at the orphanage might have (So not Robin in my head. I imagine they came later, thus seeing PC as ‘older’ despite being the same age.) I thought for a while, before just deciding to go off of the fact that the forest is nearby, which is apparently a fairly common basis on which to name an orphan hoard. So Clara’s full name is Clara Woods.

[wolfclaire]

Ah-

Welp, I didn't think about it a lot when I sent the ask honestly.. Yea it probably wouldn't be a funny thing. They don't even have to talk cus from Saint Pearl's appearance alone it's clear that she's the more perfect one (and the wings too, like, yikes, imagine having your wings damaged and then losing them and then meeting this perfect version of yourself who also has golden angel wings. Flipping golden angel wings [I know that saint Pearl's wings aren't golden anymore but it's cool so let me dream /lh])

-Sun anon

On one side you have our beloved wet cat 5am Pearl that is dancing on the ledge of going completely feral at anyone within her viscinity...and is also filled with a lot of metal illnesess (from ptsd to depresion - death games do that to you, you know?)

And on the other you have a God with golden wings (yes, golden wings are cool and they should stay on the God Pearl fr...) that just radiats with power and everything our Pearl is clearly not...

Fate has some cruel sense of humour <3

[catinfroghat]

Companion impressions so far: (spoilers)

Shadowheart = to start with I didn't really like her because she seemed snooty and rude/prejudiced towards Lae'zel but now my affinity is higher with her I feel really sorry for her... It seems like she was raised in a cult and is quite heavily indoctrinated? I'm trying to stay open-minded because I don't really know much about the religions of faerûn but the taking her in as a child and manipulating her into giving up her own memories seems like a huge red flag especially all the stuff about pain being sacred and wanting to bring about an age of darkness or whatever? Hopefully I can help her? Also clerics are by far the most essential party member in early levels so I'm glad I've learned to like her because she's almost constantly in my party.

Gale = Love him! Instant fave!!! I have the highest affinity with him but still know very little about him. He mentions that he likes cats at every opportunity though which is enough for me. His ironic humour and quips are great. He's a bit of an asshole and a snob in the typical academic/wizardly fashion which reminds me a lot of my very first dnd player character (She was also a high elf so even more arrogant) which is cool. My sorcerer has a bit of a friendly rivalry with him when it comes to their differing approaches to magic. I think the game knows he's my fav because when he gets downed my character always says something like "I can't lose you!" and when I click to speak to him she says stuff like "this always cheers me up". It makes me laugh... they're besties! I wish he wouldn't keep eating my magical items but tbh I have no use for some of the bardic ones since SOMEONE decided to kill the only person in my party proficient in instruments 😑

Lae'zel = I really enjoyed her right from the start! I like that she's rude and uses people's fear of her race against them by playing up the intimidation. When she showed her vulnerable side and I saw her fear of failure she became one of my faves (Sure she was planning on annihilating the entire camp at the time but god forbid a woman do anything). I really wish I could have her in my party more because I find her the most interesting but I think she would get pissed off at me for choosing the nice options and I don't want to tank my affinity now we're getting along well...

Wyll = He's so sweet... He was helping all the tiefling children and he even sacrificed himself to save Karlach... He's the kindest in the party and tries hard to protect others. Honestly I've never played in a party with a warlock before so I don't understand their uses but I just went into a surprise battle with him by accident and he held up really well so I'll definitely be keeping him in my party a bit more. The horns are badass and I really want to find out what a warlock oath involves and how to break him out (Again I don't know much about warlocks because I've never had much to do with them them during dnd campaigns)

Astarion = I wasn't expecting him to speak like that but that's really his voice huh. I still think it was kind of ooc for my player character to invite him to camp but whatever I'm metagaming. I've never used him in a battle but I used him to pick a lock and all his bonuses make it super easy most the time. I don't like rogues as a rule in RPGs because they don't suit my playstyle but I'll have him tag along for dialogue at least. He has a vicious dry sense of humour that does make me burst out laughing sometimes. Unfortunately, he's another character I will probably struggle to get my affinity up with since he seems to only like cruel options and my player character is nicey... Also sorry monsterfuckers but I have a fear of bites/puncture wounds so I don't think I'll let him drink my character's blood because it would gross me out.

Karlach = I love her silly quips and she is so so useful in battles since the rest of my party is usually spellcaster weaklings. She does little dances and brings a jolly energy to the party. I haven't killed the guys she wants me to kill yet because I was underlevelled and died very quickly but I'll probably be okay to go back to them once I've finished what I was doing with the goblins. I think maybe the fact I haven't done what she asked yet made her have a grudge against me because during one particularly bad battle my player character died like straight up and the first thing she said when we finished the battle was something like "I'm so glad to be alive!" whilst standing over my corpse which seemed a bit mean tbh. I've been making it up to her by giving her all the teddy bears I can find/buy. So far she has about 3 in her inventory.

[baekhvuns]

Hopefully the kid has a great career, I'd hate if he became "one hit wonder" like many young stars before. Man City who??? Idk I'm not seeing anything, my eyes are closed. Arsenal first <333 cristiano can't go back to ManU so he's choosing the next closest thing, ManCity??? 😭

Ahhh yes me and my friends figured it must be Torres and taste! I used to be a huge El Nino fan. Btw random, I had no idea David Villa works in an Indian club?! Also I joined tumblr (don't ask me how many years ago...) because of the Spanish NT and the first user I followed was actually a Barca fan lmao. Dark times

Noooo I'm probably not attending Lolla in Paris 🔫 I want to, since Skz are headlining, but it still won't be a full concert and I don't care for any other artist in the line up. Btw I'm travelling to SK next week, ngl I'm not that thrilled, but hopefully once I'm there it'll be worth it. I have so many vegan spots to visit in Seoul! Maybe I'll be too distracted to feel petty and sad about the Euro tour

The enemies to lovers prompt has so much potential AAAAAAAAAAAA a slow burn me thinks, a slow and painful one! I really need to read it 😭

I don't think any of the royals are particularly normal jjshshahshagaha maybe Beatrice and Eugenie, they're just kinda there? We know who's the worse tho, Andr*w that old fuckhead. Camilla and Charles don't have good reputation and we all also know why. Guess they can be funny sometimes, but I wish they had sense of morality instead of sense of humour 💀

That Hannah Montana doll, I need to see it 😭 Baek but have you seen The O.C, Skins, 90210 (not the OG one even though it slayed, but I watched the spin off and it was insane)

Not ANOTHER After movie oh god, this and the Hoover movie, we're doomed :/

Literally can't remember anything from that Nascar cartoon, but I watched the shit out of it for a while???

I have that webtoon you mentioned saved actually. Also I noticed a webtoon I started on Kakaopage has made it into ENG webtoon, it's called Complicated Cohabitation. I only started it, because nuna content <3

You wanna steal Soohyuk from me??? Well that's ok, I'm on my way to propose to Hwa. Also the football rings hold ooooon wjdjwjsjjshahash. I actually bought some jewellery from this website before, but I just noticed all the funny rings

I try to be respectful towards religious people, but sometimes it's hard ajsgahshshajaj rip, they can't enjoy Lucifer nor Changmin's Devil, SNSD's Run Devil Run or You Better Run 😬 actually I saw a post on Reddit asking whether Halazia has religious themes, because OP couldn't listen to it if they used religious symbolism. Also pretty sure TXT always had angelic and devilish theme going on (btw that song is my fave off their album - me liking every song that has villain or devil in it)

Uhhhh bestie do you remember this video 😭🤧❤ (but the camera mostly filming his lips, neck and hands drives me INSANEEEE 😳😳😳😳)

Gonna start Nayeon x Hongjoong dating rumours jdjsjsjsbshsh. And You're right Atz and Dox served CEOs at the wedding

???? and hmmm

Okay rich...... do NOT remind me are you insane Park Seonghwa?! But he's cruel and vile

Omfg I haven't been on twt that much, I totally missed two new Seonghwa fansites and they have some gold content like this 😭 and this and oh wow god it's me..... - I need to arrange flowers for him, make him a big ass bouquet 💐💐💐💐

Okay that's enough of Hwa spam :3 - DV 💖

hello!!

Hopefully the kid has a great career, I'd hate if he became "one hit wonder" like many young stars before. Man City who??? Idk I'm not seeing anything, my eyes are closed. Arsenal first <333 cristiano can't go back to ManU so he's choosing the next closest thing, ManCity??? 😭

it’s really sad seeing new comers come up and be compared and being called the “the next messi, the next ronaldo!” and yet they disappear after a year or something,,, MAN CITY BLUE !!!!!! they’re still 5 points behind but u best believe they are on their way, and 3 el classico’s????? + barca women coming for another win?? also 😭😭 idk if this is someone who had a fan account but it seems a little real take ur barca hate away HES A KPOPPER cr7 he needs to get back to rm, forget man city bro will ruin it 😭😭

😭😭 is this not true atp this has to be intentional is chelsea doing, 3 TIMES???? barca having to go to court to register a member and suing la liga WHILE CHELSEA SPENT €500MIL ON SIGNINGS???? INSANITY

Ahhh yes me and my friends figured it must be Torres and taste! I used to be a huge El Nino fan. Btw random, I had no idea David Villa works in an Indian club?! Also I joined tumblr (don't ask me how many years ago...) because of the Spanish NT and the first user I followed was actually a Barca fan lmao. Dark times

EXACTLY TASTE!!! he’s actually a goal scoring machine, so insanely talented,,, I THINK HES UNDER SOME ODISHA CLUB that was very surprising 😭😭 want to see him play in euro again,,, rmr how iniesta went to japan’s fc bc he didn’t want to ever face barca if he wasn’t playing in it 😭😭 LMFAOOO DARK TIMES AND BERE U ARE CONVERSING W A BARCA FAN ☺️☺️

Noooo I'm probably not attending Lolla in Paris 🔫 I want to, since Skz are headlining, but it still won't be a full concert and I don't care for any other artist in the line up. Btw I'm travelling to SK next week, ngl I'm not that thrilled, but hopefully once I'm there it'll be worth it. I have so many vegan spots to visit in Seoul! Maybe I'll be too distracted to feel petty and sad about the Euro tour

NOOOOOOO there’s so much happening in paris this time around 😭😭😭 right you are!!! omg it’s also come back season ur gonna see so much again! baekhyun comes back 😭😭 i saw this one video on a vegan cafe in itaewon called plant cafe & kitchen and the food looked so good! here’s also some restaurants to check out if ur going jeju! i hope u have a fun and safe time there!! I THINK YOU WILL BE DISTRACTED IF U STAY AWAY FROM TWT 🔫🔫

The enemies to lovers prompt has so much potential AAAAAAAAAAAA a slow burn me thinks, a slow and painful one! I really need to read it 😭 //// I don't think any of the royals are particularly normal jjshshahshagaha maybe Beatrice and Eugenie, they're just kinda there? We know who's the worse tho, Andr*w that old fuckhead. Camilla and Charles don't have good reputation and we all also know why. Guess they can be funny sometimes, but I wish they had sense of morality instead of sense of humour 💀

plots like those are truly the bane of my existence, can go into so many routes, rivals? mafia enemies? sworn since birth enemies? EVERYTHING AND ANYTHING,,, right eugenie and beatrice! they’re yeah just there 😭😭 i also like princess anne, she has a witty personality irl it seems and the crown version was just hilarious fbwnbdsjckc the tampongate is never escaping charles ever 😭😭😭 NO UR RIGHT FBFB i think those who aren’t the direct heirs families tend to be unhinged, the one who are the siblings tend to be more lowkey

That Hannah Montana doll, I need to see it 😭 Baek but have you seen The O.C, Skins, 90210 (not the OG one even though it slayed, but I watched the spin off and it was insane) //// Not ANOTHER After movie oh god, this and the Hoover movie, we're doomed :/

IT WAS THIS FBWKFHWKCJC THO MINE HAS HER ONE FEET CUT OFF 😭😭😭 THE SONG IS DIFF! do u rmr the bratz dolls and the strawberry shortcake ones 😭😭😭 IVE, IVE SEEN THE O.C AND LOVED IT DESPITE THE CONFUSION I GOT UNFORTUNATELY NOT THE OTHER TWO, are they quite similar?? ANOTHER MOVIE YEAH 😭😭😭 at least we have a redemption coming in ??? freaky friday revamp?? desperately need blake to leave that movie 😭😭

Literally can't remember anything from that Nascar cartoon, but I watched the shit out of it for a while??? //// I have that webtoon you mentioned saved actually. Also I noticed a webtoon I started on Kakaopage has made it into ENG webtoon, it's called Complicated Cohabitation. I only started it, because nuna content <3

it does look quite interesting to watch fhwjdhen the characters are <33 U DO?? ITS SO GOOD LIKE AN UNHINGED VERSION OF ONE SIDED ENEMIES TO LOVERS 😭😭 NOONA ROMANCE??? SIGN ME UP !!!!! the younger mc trope is so >>>>

You wanna steal Soohyuk from me??? Well that's ok, I'm on my way to propose to Hwa. Also the football rings hold ooooon wjdjwjsjjshahash. I actually bought some jewellery from this website before, but I just noticed all the funny rings

JFVWKFJWKCJCK GET BACK HERE HELLO TASIR IS WAITING!! TASIR. WAITS. omg those are so interesting to look at, THE DRAGON STOP IT SOMEONE NEEDS TO GIVE IT TO HIM 😭😭 do u think they have a anklet that has the golden boot charm bc that would be something ppl would buy fbwnd the world cup looking necklace 😭😭 maybe we should mail it to ronaldo <3 i know this is a parody acc but i just know he did something like this

I try to be respectful towards religious people, but sometimes it's hard ajsgahshshajaj rip, they can't enjoy Lucifer nor Changmin's Devil, SNSD's Run Devil Run or You Better Run 😬 actually I saw a post on Reddit asking whether Halazia has religious themes, because OP couldn't listen to it if they used religious symbolism. Also pretty sure TXT always had angelic and devilish theme going on (btw that song is my fave off their album - me liking every song that has villain or devil in it)

NO SRS i also think it’s like selective for many people, if a group they like do it it’s amazing and even praise it! but if one doesn’t it’s devil worshipping 😭😭😭 NO LITERALLY HOW WOULD THEY SURVE THE F(X) RED LIGHT ERA 😭😭 ayo ngl i expected halazia to have a pentagram or some rituals and a hook like zimzalabim 😭😭😭 yeah! they always seems to have that theme, very garden of eden x edgy australian band vibes <3 u know they should cover imagine dragons i think that music suits them well! like bad liar esp! THAT SONG IS SO GOOD UR RIGHT BUT TINNITUS??? 🤲🏻🤲🏻 they have the funniest titles 😭😭😭 what the heck 😭😭 lionel mbappe

Uhhhh bestie do you remember this video 😭🤧❤ (but the camera mostly filming his lips, neck and hands drives me INSANEEEE 😳😳😳😳) //// Gonna start Nayeon x Hongjoong dating rumours jdjsjsjsbshsh. And You're right Atz and Dox served CEOs at the wedding

I DO AND WHY WOULD U REMIND ME OF IT WHTMWHDKW THE ZOOM IN ON THE HANDS !!!! GRRRRRRRRRR nayeon x hongjoong giving ✨ ceo romance ✨ the bright and cherry fl and the reserved always squinting ceo <3

???? and hmmm //// Okay rich...... do NOT remind me are you insane Park Seonghwa?! But he's cruel and vile //// Omfg I haven't been on twt that much, I totally missed two new Seonghwa fansites and they have some gold content like this 😭 and this and oh wow god it's me..... - I need to arrange flowers for him, make him a big ass bouquet 💐💐💐💐 /// Okay that's enough of Hwa spam :3 - DV 💖

san’s an ass guy,,, bro just be going into all the details 😭😭😭 do u ever just randomly, out of no where rmr the texture of the smoothness of his hand? no? it’s okay BECAUSE HE WILL REMIND YOU FBWNBDWNDJKS

oh i just screamed

he’s giving junior hwa tutor au but also steve jobs

what the hell

WHAT THE HECK im going to d word if he doesn’t put that inside

[imagine-darksiders]

A gentle touch.

[Strife/Reader]

Summary: Set three years after humanity is resurrected. Strife shows up unannounced in your bedroom in the middle of the night, which would have been rude enough without him getting blood all over your cream-coloured carpet.

Tags: Blood, injury, PTSD, knife, protective Strife, whump, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, sharing a bed ;), bandages and cleaning wounds, how not to administer first aid.

-----

You have the apocalypse to thank for turning you into such a light-sleeper. 

Even though the nights of sleeping with one eye open are far behind you and Earth is back on the road to a long and arduous recovery, you'll still jolt awake if your unconscious mind hears something scuttle beneath the floorboards of your freshly-restored home, and God forbid a tree branch should happen to scratch at the bedroom window...

Waking up with the feeling that your heart is three beats from bursting right out of your chest is exhausting, to say the least. And it isn't just you who suffers from the onset of hyper-vigilance.

It was a decidedly cruel consequence that the resurrected humans were able to recall their lives before the end of the world. Crueller still, they woke up to remember exactly how and where they eventually kicked the bucket, and of course, nobody knew that a significant chunk of time had passed at all since the end of the world and its rebirth.

They thought they were still in danger.

In one moment, all they knew was immense and excruciating pain, and then, in what seemed like the blink of an eye, they woke up again, screaming and writhing in the echoes of phantom pain that had occurred almost a century ago.

Three years down the line since ‘The Great Waking,’ and there isn’t a human alive who could claim that they’ve slept through an uninterrupted night.

------

The alarm clock on your bedside table has just ticked over to read '2:36am' when your eyes suddenly snap open and you fling yourself upright in bed, your spine ramrod straight and your ears ringing with a sharp, tinny note.

It isn’t a nightmare that wakes you. At least, not this time.

Worse.

It’s a sound.

An out-of-the-ordinary sound that isn't in keeping with the normal ambiance of your bedroom.

But where...? 

....It's coming from your window.

Tired eyes swivel to the curtains whilst your hand immediately flies out to blindly fumble with the drawer of your bedside table. Once your fingers find the cold, metal handle, you rip it open and plunge your hand inside, rummaging around until you feel the reassuring grip of your most precious possession.

Your trusty bread knife. Serrated edge, nine inch blade, perfect for cutting slices of toast in the morning and for tearing through the toughened hide of a hungry demon.

Peace between the Universe’s species had been declared once humanity was fully introduced to the connected realms, a decision that suited a vast majority of Creation. Hell, however, had offered up a fair amount of opposition to the notion before eventually conceding and agreeing – albeit begrudgingly – to honour the peace treaty alongside angels, makers, undead and the rest.

Even demon-kind knew not to incur the wrath of humanity's strongest and most ferocious protectors, the Horsemen.

But... there are always exceptions to the rule. Some demons just... hadn't gotten the memo.

It wouldn’t be the first time one of them had tried to make an assassination attempt on humanity’s envoy.

Heart in your throat, you grasp the knife securely in your dominant hand and peer through the darkness towards the window. 

Only a sliver of moonlight peeps through a tiny gap in the curtains. In another blink, the light suddenly disappears, and you know better than to assume that the moon has simply ducked behind a cloud. 

Something is standing at your window, blocking out the light.

You think you might actually be sick when you hear the sound again, claws scraping on wood – a sound you know all too well – well enough to send your head spinning into a panic.

Swallowing back the nausea in your throat, you brace yourself, instincts flicking between running for the door and knowing never to turn your back on a demon.

Sadly, the decision is swiftly taken out of your hands. Through the darkness and the deafening roar of blood rushing through your ears, you can make out the distinct sound of your window sliding slowly open.

The knife is a comforting weight in your hand. But it’s less than useless if you don’t calm down and try to remember the lessons that Death has taught you. If the eldest Horseman were here, he’d probably have berated you seven ways to Sunday by now for freezing up and missing an opportunity to better prepare yourself for an attack.

A dark silhouette pushes the fluttering fabric of your curtains aside and pulls itself halfway into your bedroom. 

Whatever it is, it’s big.

Breath catching in your throat, you clasp a handful of your duvet and get ready to fling it at the intruder as a distraction, hoping that it’ll be enough to buy you a precious few seconds to gain the upper hand. You've learned that humans are inherently weaker than demons, but if there’s one thing you’ve learned from Death, it’s that strength isn’t necessarily the deciding factor in any battle. You still have your wits. You only hope the demon has less.

Two luminous, golden eyes turn in your direction and you press yourself backwards into the headboard.

Several seconds drag by in perfect silence.

Then... 

“Hey.”

And just like, that tension leaves your body like a balloon deflating of air and you heave the loudest sigh you can muster, dropping the bread knife into your lap.

“Damn it, Strife! You about gave me a heart attack!”

With a 'whump,' you flop back against your pillows and take a second to breathe whilst one of the Four Horsemen drags himself the rest of the way through your bedroom window.

Strife.

It's only Strife...

Whilst certainly a dangerous being in his own right, you know you have nothing to fear from the Horseman who had all but appointed himself as your friend three, long years ago, all in an attempt to irritate his brother, Death, of course.

At least, at first.

Death was the one who pulled you from the dying Earth and preserved your life-force as you journeyed together on a quest to resurrect humanity, but after he made the jump to introduce you to his 'little' siblings, it had been Strife who'd taken a particular shine to you, and it had everything to do with a compatible, if terrible sense of humour.

That first meeting sparked what was sure to be an interesting friendship between the pair of you.

-----

“So, my brother went and got himself a human, huh?” Strife had teased, pointedly ignoring the withering look he received from Death to add, “Gotta say, I'm impressed, Kid. Didn't think anyone would have the inclination to willingly travel with my brother. But then, I guess...” He trailed off and you could almost see the smirk growing under his mask. “Deathperate times and all that, huh?”

At once, his siblings all groaned out varying noises of disapproval. Fury, the loudest, cocked her hip and shot Strife a frosty glower. “You are singlehandedly ruining our reputation, brother."

“She's right, you know,” you spoke up, trying not to flinch when all eyes snapped onto you once more, “That pun was pretty deadful.”

The brief, startled second of silence was soon blasted apart when Strife threw his head back and barked out a triumphant laugh, while Death slowly turned to look at you, utterly betrayed.

“Ha!” Strife's eyes positively gleamed with mischief, “You're right, human. Guess I should'a considered the reapercussions of a joke like that, huh?”

“I ought to have known introducing you two would be a mistake,” the eldest Horseman grumbled, earning a sympathetic look from War.

“Sorry, Death,” you said with a perfectly straight face, “You want us to get out of your scythe so you don’t have to look at us anymore?”

Strife had howled.

Death, however, merely heaved a long-suffering sigh. Fury's eyes all but rolled into the back of her skull and War just stood there, struggling to keep his lips from twitching at their corners.

And you had looked around at all of them, a little proud and blissfully unaware of what you'd just unwittingly signed yourself up for.

You'd had Strife's attention from that day on.

-----

Shaking off the fond memory, you tiredly will your mind back to the matter at hand.

You reach across your bed and drop the knife back into the drawer before leaning down and skirting your fingers over the wall in search of a switch. The next moment, there's a 'click!' and the room is illuminated by clustered fairy lights that you've draped around your ceiling, forcing you to squint blearily against the intrusion of light as Strife hauls his leg into your room.

“Honestly. How many times have I told you to use the door?”

“S'locked,” he grunts.

You're in the midst of rubbing your eyes to try and stimulate a little life back into your bones, so you miss the way he stumbles a few steps away from the wall and presses a gauntleted hand to his abdomen. 

“Yeah, it’s locked because it's-” You take a quick glance at the clock next to you. “-Two thirty in the morning! Strife, I’m supposed to be up at six to meet Ulthane! What do you need so badly that you'd-... Hey.. Are.. are you okay?”

At last taking a long, hard look, it suddenly occurs to you that the Horseman is... not entirely himself.

He's hunched over, his shoulders pulled in around his neck and his chest rising and falling in long, languid motions. The tattered cowl he wears around his neck hangs loose around his collarbones and it faces the very real threat of slipping off to the floor. At last, your eyes drop to the hand that's clamped over the left side of his abdomen and you blurt out a startled gasp.

In the paltry, pink glow of your fairy lights, you spot an unmistakably crimson liquid dribbling between his fingers, starkly contrasted against the steel-grey colour of his armour.

The next few seconds pass in a blur as you frantically begin kicking off your duvet and scramble out of bed, flying across the room to the Horseman's side.

“Strife! What'd you do!?”

“Oh, that's real sweet,” the Nephilim chuckles wryly whilst he collapses back against the wall and slides down it with a strained grunt, “Why're you – ung... assuming it's something I did?”

Without missing a beat, you snap, “This would hardly be the first time you got hurt because you're a wise-cracking jokester with a big mouth! Now tell me who you pissed off?!”

You drop onto your knees next to him and reach out, fingers hovering tentatively above his stomach. With your focus directed away from his helm, Strife doesn’t bother to hide the way his eyes dart from left to right before they settle back on the top of your head.

“Ah, it was... just some demon, caught me slackin', that's all,” he shrugs, letting you carefully grasp his wrist and lift it away from his torso.

At once, fresh blood gushes from a deep gouge cut into in the dark, leather under-skin he wears beneath his cuirass and you yelp, slapping a hand over your mouth in abject horror.

The sound draws Strife's gaze to you and once he spots the shocked despair on your face, he gives himself a mental kick.

He hadn't meant to... He... doesn't like it when you’re scared because of him.

"Hey, no, no – I'm okay!” he rushes to reassure you, “Don't worry about this. I've had worse!”

“That's not the point, Strife!” you argue, dropping his wrist and carding your hands through your hair, “You're hurt now! And I don't – there's so much blood, and you-” Cutting yourself off, you squeeze your eyes shut and inhale deeply through your nose, willing your pulse to ease so that you can rationally address this situation. 

Another lesson Death had taught you - stay calm in a crisis. Panic kills.

Releasing a long, hard breath, you peel your eyes open again and nod, jaw set. “Okay. All right. I need to.. I need water. A-and I need to see the wound.”

The interrogation can come after you've dealt with... this.

“There's a bowl and flannel in my bathroom,” you announce, getting to your unsteady feet and gesturing towards Strife's cuirass, “Think you can get that off so I can have a look?”

Huffing out a breath of laughter, the Horseman winks at you suggestively and drawls, “An' here I was doin' things the hard way to get your attention. You know, you didn't have to wait till I got myself gutted before you asked me to take my armour off in your chambers.”

A wise-cracking flirt with a big mouth.

As exasperating as he is though, you don't mind it in the slightest.

This is your usual rapport, after all. A friendly back and forth interlaced with the occasional, flirtatious comment. At first, Strife had only initiated it because it drove an over-protective Death up the wall. The eldest Horseman had almost threatened to 'remove Strife's libido' until you'd up and flirted right back, distressing the old reaper even further.

It's funny. It's innocent. But right now, it's reassuring, if only somewhat, that Strife is behaving just like his shameless, old self.

Besides, you can give back as much as you get.

“Well, I had to wait for a good enough excuse,” you retort, “Couldn't come on too strong and risk scaring you off, now could I?”

In response, Strife just chuckles fondly and watches you turn and speed away to your ensuite, oblivious to the warm, soft glow radiating from his eyes.

In less than a minute, you're briskly striding back into the room, a dripping flannel in one hand and a bowl in the other, and he suddenly remembers that you'd asked him to remove his cuirass.

Mission failed.

But you don't even bat an eyelid to find it still in place, assuming that the Horseman can't get at the catches on the sides in his current state. 

In one, smooth motion, you drop down beside him once more and set the cloth and bowl nearby. “Here, let me help..”

The Horseman's pulse sputters when your tiny fingers reach around his torso and fumble with the buckles and straps that keep his armour securely in place. It doesn't pass his notice that your hands are trembling.

“Hey,” he calls, catching your eye for a moment before you go right back to fiddling with the cuirass, “This is nothin’, you know that, right?”

You only press your lips together and hum, clearly skeptical.

You're working fast and in almost no time at all, the straps have been released and you carefully take the Nephilim's broad shoulder, giving it a tug, guiding him to lean away from the walls so that you can start to peel the bulky armour off.

“Nng, hang on,” he mutters.

Reluctantly, you sit back to let him tug his chest piece loose before he simply drops it onto the carpet next to his legs with a dull 'clang.'

Exposed to the soft glow of your lights, your eyes are instantly drawn to the gaping wound that stretches in a horizontal line across the left side of his abdomen. It seems that something really has tried - and nearly succeeded - to gut him. Several inches long and goodness knows how deep, even against the iron-grey colour of his skin, the gash is alarmingly obvious and the blood far, far too noticeable for your liking. It still comes as something of a shock to learn that the Horsemen, barring Death, can actually bleed.

Wordlessly, you pick up the flannel and wring it out into the bowl of water, wondering if he'll mind that you didn't wait for the tap to get warm before you soaked it. It shouldn't surprise you that the Horseman doesn't protest or even flinch when you gently press the wet cloth to the bloodied skin around his wound, nowhere near the gash itself, not until you've cleared away some of the mess around it and determined its real depth.

You don't notice that his eyelids flutter closed once you press the cloth to his skin, nor do you see when their golden light fluctuates in contentment as the fingertips of your other hand press gently to his stomach, the pressure barely enough for him to feel, but enough to keep you steady whilst you daub at his drying blood.

It takes a formidable effort to suppress the shudder that nearly races up his spine. This is the first time he's felt your skin against his without a single piece of armour standing between you.

Creator, you're so soft! Just like he always imagined you would be.

“Jeezus, Strife,” you whistle, abruptly snatching his focus away from the soothing strokes of your silky fingers,“You've made a real mess of yourself. Why on Earth didn't you just go straight to Death? I thought he was the best healer in your family.”

The warm skin underneath your fingertips jumps as the Horseman puffs out a quick laugh, gazing dopily at your temple whilst you wipe at the edges of his wound with small, careful touches. 

“He is,” Strife readily agrees, “But the moody bastard wouldn't be nearly as gentle with me as you are.”

You blow an unimpressed huff from your nose and glance up at him in time to catch his lazy wink. “I can always press harder if you like?”

“Nah.” The Horseman settles himself more heavily against the wall, knocking his skull back against it and mumbling, “Just keep touchin' me all gentle like that. S'nice...”

Quite abruptly, the chatty Nephilim goes silent and the glow from his eyes that had illuminated your face only moments ago suddenly disappears.

“Strife?”

He doesn't respond.

“Hey, Cowboy! Don't you fall asleep on me, you hear?”

There's a long stretch of silence, then, “Won't,” he mumbles, cracking one eyelid open to peer down at you.

Harrumphing, you promptly turn back to the gash in his stomach and wipe the last of the dried blood off his skin, still far from clean, but at the very least, better than it had been.

“Right,” you declare, pulling away to stand up and drawing a decidedly petulant whine from the Horseman on your bedroom floor. “I'm gonna go get the first aid kit from downstairs.”

There’s a shift in his expression and something that hinges on alarm suddenly whistles through his blood.

“I won’t be long,” you promise, "Be right – Hey, woah! What're you doing!?”

Darting forwards, you hastily place your hands on each of Strife's broad shoulders, trying to push him back down as he grabs the window sill behind him and begins hauling himself up to his feet.

“What's it look like ‘m doing?” he answers gruffly, slouching forwards as if the weight of his own head is too much to keep aloft, “Comin’ with you”

Sputtering out a few, incredulous noises, you try to make him see sense. “I’ll bring the first aid kit to you! You need to rest! It's bad enough that you already climbed in through my second storey window!”

But Strife, stubborn as a mule and much, much stronger than you, isn't deterred by your protests. Grunting, he curls one arm over his stomach and takes a step forwards, ducking beneath your light fixture and standing to his full, imposing height.

Even with three years of companionship behind you, you’re still frequently taken aback at how effortlessly the Horseman can make you feel small and fragile when you stand close to him.

Knowing full well that you’ll never be able to force him down again, you allow your hands to slip from his shoulders and fall against your sides like lead weights. You aren’t sure why he’s suddenly so hellbent on following you, downstairs, of all places, but you don’t dwell on it, especially given that you’re far more preoccupied with the fresh blood that has already begun trickling out of his wound to replace the stains you’ve painstakingly cleaned away.

Puffing out your cheeks, you raise a hand and pinch the bridge of your nose. “Strife, please sit down?” You aren’t so proud that you won’t resort to begging, tired as you are and exasperated with his obstinate behaviour. “I’m worried about you...”

All at once, the Horseman stiffens. ‘Oh, now she’s fighting dirty,’ he muses to himself.

Gradually, you lift your eyes to meet his and try your very best to glare up at him, pinning him down with all the stern authority you can muster. For several, slow heartbeats, the Nephilim peers right back at you and you’re almost certain that you’ll lose this battle of wills, which is why it comes as such a shock when his fiery gaze falters, wavering slightly before it promptly drops to the floor near your feet.

It's... rare for Strife to be looked at by someone who isn't ashamed to show that they worry about him.

But the way you're looking at him now? Hell, the way you've been looking at him since he clambered through your bedroom window? You're practically broadcasting your concern.

Strife just... isn't used to seeing that. So he glances down instead, finding the fibres of your carpet particularly exhilarating tonight. Slowly, begrudgingly, he sinks down to sit on the edge of your bed, heavy enough that the frame creaks and groans under the weight of a fully grown Nephilim and he has to hold back a contented sigh at the softness beneath his legs.

From the corner of an eye, he can see that your jaw is hanging ajar and remains so until you give yourself a little shake and throw him a satisfied nod. “Thank you,” you huff before turning on your heel and striding purposefully from the room.

Strife listens raptly to your footsteps disappearing down the staircase, unaware that his hands have curled into tight fists around your duvet.

'It's fine,' he assuages the insistent voice at the back of his head, 'She's fine.'

He took care of the threat. That demon asshole isn't coming after his friend.

You’re only downstairs. He can already hear you pushing open the door to your little kitchen whilst the rest of his senses remain trained on the sounds and smells of the night.

It isn't as though something bad might happen just because his eyes aren't fixed upon you...

Frankly, he thinks he’s being more than generous to allow a full, Earth minute to pass as he taps his heel impatiently against the side of your bed.

Didn’t you say you’d be right back?

...

“Fuck it...”

-------

Perhaps, in hindsight, keeping your first aid kit on the top of the fridge hadn’t been one of your brightest ideas, given that you need a chair to reach it. Then again, securing immediate access to bandages and plasters hadn’t exactly been on the forefront of your mind when you were rebuilding your old home from the ruins it had been left in.

With a grunt, you drop your rickety kitchen chair next to the fridge and clamber up onto the seat. “I have got to find a better place for you,” you grumble at an apathetic first aid kit that sits gathering dust near the wall. Stretching your arm out, you manage to snag it by the handle and drag it towards you-

“The hell're you doing!?”

The violent jolt that shoots through you like lightening nearly sends you toppling off the chair. You let out a yelp, just barely catching yourself on the fridge with your free hand before you whip about to see none other than Strife silhouetted in the kitchen doorway.

“Wh- the hell are you doing!?” you retort, knitting your brows into a frown and clutching the first aid kit against your heaving chest, “Why aren’t you upstairs?”

The Horseman’s glowing eyes are fixed unsettlingly on the chair beneath your feet and rather than answer the question, he ducks under the doorframe and thunders towards you in a few, short strides, leaving you with no time to protest before he suddenly sweeps you up off the chair and into his arms, caging you against a solid chest.

At once, you begin to struggle. “Strife! Your wound! Put me down, you'll hurt yourself!”

But the Nephilim is hardly paying attention. His glare lingers on the flimsy, wooden chair legs for a moment before he flicks his gaze towards the large window above your sink, noting with no small degree of distaste that it isn't even shut.

It’s like you’re inviting danger in.

If you had any idea of the fate he and his siblings are currently trying to protect you from, you might just try a little harder to take better care of yourself.

“Hey!” you continue to protest against his hold but manage to refrain from jostling about too much, mindful of his injury. “For god's sake! What's gotten into you?!”

He offers little more than a noncommittal grunt in response and begins trailing back towards the staircase, casting brief glances at the french doors leading out onto your patio.

'Structural weakness,' he registers, 'Perfect point of entry for anything smaller than a Trauma...'

Shaking his head, he turns sideways to fit you through the kitchen door and takes the stairs up to your room.

After a second, he lowers his eyes to meet yours and finds himself meeting a highly unimpressed scowl. “What?” he asks, the very picture of innocence.

Raising your brows, you snap, “Don't you 'what' me! The hell is all this about? I told you to stay put!”

“You were takin' too long,” he shrugs.

“Too long!?” Indignant, you flick your wrist and rap the first aid kit against his collar bone, “I was gone a minute, max! If you were so worried about me taking too long to fix you up, then why are you moving around and making your injury worse!?”

The light of Strife's golden gaze dims and he turns his head away, staring up towards the top of the stairs and your bedroom door beyond. “S'not me m' worried about,” he mumbles.

It's such an about-face from his usual demeanour that you can do little but blink dumbly up at him and fall still against his chest, your mouth hanging agape.

In silence, the Horseman ducks through the door into your room and sidles over to the bed where, hesitantly, he lowers you down until you're sitting safely on the edge.

In the next moment however, just as Strife drops heavily onto the bed next to you, you slip away and settle on the floor instead, placing the first aid kit beside his boots and fumbling with the latches.

Despite blowing out a rough grumble of disapproval that sounds entirely too much like War for his liking, he lets you go.

Chewing on your lip, you stare at the contents for a moment before snatching up a pack of antiseptic wipes, tearing one out and bringing it up to his stomach.

“You want to tell me why you just exacerbated your injury to rescue me from my kitchen chair?” you ask him, adding as an afterthought, “This might sting a bit..”

When he doesn't reply, you glance up and quirk a brow at the underside of his chin, only to catch him peering back at you from behind heavy-lidded eyes. Then, with a weary sigh, he sags forwards and raises a hand to rub at the back of his neck, looking sheepish, of all things.

Unable to dispel your frown, you blindly begin brushing the wipe underneath his bleeding wound.

He doesn't even wince.

Strife tips his helm towards the bedroom window and slumps further backwards into your mattress, seeming so entirely out of place amidst the colourful duvet cover and frilly cushions.

“Okay,” he mutters, “I uh, I got a confession to make.”

Interest piqued, you make an acknowledging sound at the back of your throat and return your attention to his abdomen.

“Death didn't want us to tell you about this,” he continues quietly whilst you toss the now ruined wipe over your shoulder and pull out a fresh one, “And, to be honest, neither did I. We didn't want you to have to worry, y'know?”

You don't know. And you nearly ask him what you should be worrying about, but you soon let your mouth fall shut and settle for humming curiously instead, trusting that he'll tell you soon enough anyway.

There's a long pause, during which you find the courage to bring your fingers close to the edges of his wound and immediately have to withhold a gag when the motion sends another spout of blood oozing from the cut and dribbling down your wrist.

After a moment, Strife huffs and forges ahead, “Course, War and Fury did want to tell you-”

He's stalling, you realise belatedly.

“-War thinks you have every right to know. And Fury said there's nothin' for you to worry about anyway, cause we've got your back.”

“Fury said that?” you ask distractedly, dropping the wipe and rummaging around for a gauze pad. In response, Strife exhales, a tiny, hidden smile creeping onto his lips. “Fury says a lot of stuff about you that you don't know about.”

Gently, you unroll the gauze and press it against his wound. “Wow, you sure that's your sister?  Sounds like she might've been body snatched.”

“Ha!” The Horseman suddenly throws his head back. “Well, if she has been replaced, I sure as shit ain't going lookin' for the original. This Fury is... she's...”

He pauses, tipping his head in thought before eventually settling on, “She's learning.”

You blow out a long, impressed whistle and he nods his agreement, adding, “Yeah, s'weird for all of us too.”

The room lapses into silence once again as you stretch the gauze across Strife's abdomen and mutter, “Hold this,” before your hands are retreating and the Horseman's slide down to keep the bandage in place.

Reaching into the box once more, you take some bandages and begin to unfurl them gingerly over the top of the gauze. “Not hurting you, am I?”

You miss the soft expression he aims at the top of your head. “Never.”

You're more than aware that he probably won't tell you you've hurt him even if you were to stick your fingers in the wound twist them.

“Sooo~....?” you prompt.

Peering down at you, Strife cocks his head to one side and echoes, “Soooo?”

“What did Fury and War think I should know?”

“Oh. Right...” His reluctance is as painfully obvious as a slap to the face but you're slightly more focused on plunging your hand back into the first aid kit and rooting around for a roll of adhesive tape.

He observes you for a moment, growing more and more certain that despite your curiosity, you aren’t actually paying a great deal of attention to his words. Quite abruptly, he asks, “You listening?”

Emitting little more than a vague hum, you finally snag the tape and run your fingernail along the smooth surface, searching for the ever-elusive end.

“You sure?” Strife grunts skeptically, “Kid, this is kind of important.”

Without missing a beat, you nod your chin towards his injury and reply, “Yeah, well, you're kind of important too, buddy.”

Oh.

Oh, that's...

Strife wracks his brain, trying to pluck an appropriate response from amidst his tumbling thoughts. Part of him wants to scoff – of course he's important! He's Strife! The best, damn marksman who ever walked the realms of existence.

But then, there's another part of him that lurks deep behind the walls of hubris and brass he's been building meticulously for centuries, and it gives a little leap at the sound of your words, delighted beyond measure.

Averting his gaze, Strife lets out a chuckle. “You're getting soft.”

“Ah, I've always been soft.”

His heart thrums. “Wasn't talkin' about you, kid.”

You shoot him a smirk as you stick a piece of tape over the bandages covering his injury. “Well, if you're talking about yourself, then you're wrong again. You aren't getting soft. You've always been soft.”

The Horseman mutters something incoherent, but it's his distinct lack of an articulate response that speaks volumes to your ears.

The slight pressure of your fingers as they prod at the tape with tentative care leaves him mourning the centuries he's gone without knowing such a gentle touch. Rolling his eyes down to you, his smile droops and he sighs, sagging forwards to rest his elbows on his knees just as you attempt to place another strip of tape.

“Strife!” you complain, leaning back, “I need to put more tape on!”

He merely blinks at you languidly and says, “Later. I want you concentratin' on me right now.”

“I've been concentrating on you all night,” you huff, though you eventually concede and sit back on your haunches, peering up at the Horseman expectantly.

Studying your face for another moment, he breathes a long sigh and gestures to his stomach. "I told you a demon did this..."

“Uh huh...”

Solemnly, Strife continues, “So more specifically, it was a Shadow Caster. Been on her trail for a couple of weeks now. Finally caught up with her on some farmlands west of the city...” 

“Okay?” you nod, digesting the information, “And why were you on her trail?”

He hesitates, flicking his eyes between you and the window a few times before he quietly admits, “She was comin’ after one of my friends...”

“Who?”

The look he throws you is so pointed, you suddenly feel like a fool for missing the obvious.

“Ah.” Understanding, you slowly nod your head.

“Yup.”

“But, she's dead now, right?” You gesture to his wound. “You came straight here after killing her.”

Strife's eyes darken further and each time they try to land on your face, they seem to slide right off again and drop to the carpet. “Uh, yeah. She's dead.”

You heave a sigh. “She wasn't the only one who's after me.”

“... No..”

“I see.” Inhaling long and slow through your nose, you tip your head back and slap your hands on your thighs, rubbing at them anxiously as you gaze around the room. “So, do we know how many there are?”

The Horseman eyes you for several, silent seconds. Eventually though, he speaks up. “Got wind of a small group of about four of 'em. Demons mostly, one undead. You and I've got a mutual... uh, friend, who's been keeping his ears to the ground, and he reckons they’re aiming to provoke another war between Hell and Earth by killin' the human envoy.”

“Wow. Talk about sore losers,” you scoff humourlessly, “So, who is this mutual friend?”

Some of the tension bleeds out of Strife's posture once he notices that you haven't immediately flown into a panic. “C'mon kid,” he snorts, “You know I can't expose my source. He doesn't want you know that he cares about you. Thinks you might start askin' for discounts if you thought he was getting' soft.”

“Discounts, huh?” Your lips quirk up at their edges and Strife smacks a palm over his mask in mock distress.

“Ah, hell, I gave it away, didn't I?”

“I bet his name rhymes with Shmulgrim, doesn't it?” you laugh.

Chuckling, Strife leans back on his hands again and replies, “Hey, you came to that conclusion on your own. Technically, I never told you who my source was.”

With the atmosphere in your bedroom gradually becoming lighter and lighter, you follow the Horseman's lead and relax backwards onto your hands, stealing a surreptitious glance at the bandages adhered to his torso.

It's no longer as surprising as it used to be that Vulgrim is invested in the well-being of his 'valuable asset.' The Horsemen are perhaps his best clients, hence the vested interest in keeping himself in their good graces by looking out for their human ward.

Shaking your head with a knowing smirk, you push yourself up onto your feet and glance down at yourself, brushing off your pyjama shorts, only to grimace when your hands do nothing but smear Strife's blood all over the fabric.

“Sorry... for the mess.”

You raise your head at the sound of the Horseman's voice and find him glowering down at the stains he's dripped onto your carpet, his eyes hooded and glum.

Heaving a sigh that you hope conveys both exasperation and affection, you reach out and place your comparatively tiny hand on his shoulder to give the pauldron a reassuring squeeze, drawing his gaze back up to your face. “I don't care about the mess, Strife” you tell him matter-of-factly, “The carpet's just here to stop my feet getting cold in the morning. You're my best friend.”

Ever so slowly, his luminous eyes grow wide with wonder and he lets his jaw drop open to speak, but before he manages to utter a soft, 'what?' you give his shoulder a friendly jostle and add, “So long as you're okay, pal, that's the main thing. Now...”

Trailing off, you move back around the bed and let your fingers slide off the Horseman's arm, stepping up to the bedside table containing your pyjamas, oblivious to how swiftly and easily you've just swept the rug out from underneath Strife's feet. He twists himself around on your mattress to watch you, his eyes as wide as than dinner plates.

Did you mean to say... best?

He – well, he always knew that you considered him a friend! Hell, he'd even go so far as to say the two of you are close friends.

But best?

Best implies that there's nobody – nobody – that you hold in higher regard than him...

'How did I miss that!?' his psyche all but screams at him, 'When the Hell did I get so important!?”

You aren't even looking at him, too busy rummaging through your drawers, as if you have no idea that you've just pulled his heart right out of his chest and now you have it cradled in the palms of your hands.

You could crush the life out of him with hardly a word.

“So, you never did say!” you call out to him as you duck into your ensuite bathroom and flick the light on, hiding yourself from view whilst you change, “How does the master of marksmanship get tagged by a Shadowcaster in the first place? You’re not usually the type to get up close and personal. That’s more War’s thing, right?”

All at once, the threats that demon witch had made against you ring like klaxons in Strife’s head and he has to make a conscious effort to ignore his instinct to leap off the bed and barge into the bathroom just to be sure you’re safe. He hears the shuffling of fabric against skin as you pull off the bloodied shorts and begin to pull on the new ones.

Grinding his teeth, he spits out, “She just.. got me mad, is all. Made me wanna have the satisfaction of wringing her neck with my bare hands instead of filling her with bullets.”

“Wait, seriously?” Your silhouette suddenly appears in the bathroom doorway and and strife glances up, briefly enraptured by the halo of light glowing at your back. A fellow human might have likened you to an angel. Strife, however, knows that none of the feathery bastards could hold a candle to you. 

Garbed in clean shorts that smell distinctly of you, and not copper, you step out into your bedroom. “How’d a demon manage to make you mad? You’re like, the champ of not getting mad. It’s like your superpower.”

“Yeah, well..” he mutters, turning his helm away, “This time, she went too far.”

You’re quiet as you flop down onto the bed next to him, your eyes flicking between his downturned head to the fists that are clenched like vices at his sides, metal claws gripping fistfuls of your duvet so tightly, you’re worried he might end up poking holes in the cover.

Whatever had been said to him must have been bad if he’s this riled up.

Biting your lip, you let out a pensive hum and lean backwards, your fingers brushing over a soft lump near the headboard. At once, your eyes grow wide and your lips stretch into a sly grin as your hand closes over something fluffy and familiar.

Strife is still busy stewing when he’s suddenly brought out of his thoughts by a face that’s shoved promptly into his line of sight. He blinks, drawing his head away to properly see what you’re holding up in front of him.

He can’t contain a chuckle once he realises that it’s none other than your old, toy horse, dangling in front of him with its little, black ears flopping forwards to cover a pair of button eyes.

Allowing a smile to grace the edge of his mouth, the Horseman wordlessly relaxes his grasp on your duvet in favour of reaching out to gently take the soft toy out of your hands, lowering it down into his lap.

“I thought David Hasselhoof might make you feel better,” you tell him, bumping your shoulder against his companionably.

The Nephilim simply smiles, stroking his palm over the horse’s fuzzy mane.

“Hey, Strife?” 

“Mmm?”

You fiddle with your fingernail for a moment, dropping your eyes to the bed and taking a breath before you ask, “What did the demon say that made you so angry?”

It isn’t as though you want to pry. But having your friend turn up at your house in the dead of night with his stomach torn open warrants a couple of questions, in your honest opinion.

The Horseman’s brows knit together underneath his helm and he shifts slightly, twisting away from you further until you can’t even see the lights of his eyes. If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost dare to say that he looks shy. An impossibility, frankly.

When he speaks, his voice is gentle, a far cry from the normal, strident tone you’re used to hearing. “She, uh, she might’ve made a couple of threats about you.. Bad ones.” 

You wait for him to elaborate, but for some time, he doesn’t utter another word, prompting you to ask, “And?”

You very nearly reel backwards into your headboard when Strife whips around to face you. “And?!” he echoes, incredulous, “The Hell d’you mean ‘and?’ Isn’t that enough of a reason?!”

Taken aback, you lift your hands in a placating gesture and stammer, “Woah! I - I just meant... Well, it’s not like I haven’t been threatened before? Just seems like a weird thing for you to get so angry about.”

Without warning, the enormous Nephilim lurches to his feet, the cuddly horse left to tumble, forgotten out of his lap. “Did you not hear me?” he snaps, “She. Threatened. You!”

“A-and that... made you mad?”

“Did - Of course it did!” he all but howls, his voice cracking as it raises in pitch, “She made me listen to all the god damn, sick things she wanted to do to you when she found you! She said - she said, I’d never see you again!” Roughly, he drags his clawed fingertips through his spiky, black hair and exclaims, “Next thing I know, I’m droppin’ Redemption and Mercy, I’ve got her heart in my fist and I’m... I’m...” 

He trails off, knocked out of stride by his own admission. You remain silent, pressed up against your head board with the blankets clutched to your chest.

When he notices you staring up at him, small and wary amongst the sheets, the frustration saps from him like water circling the drain. “So... so yeah,” he huffs, his shoulders slumping and a great wave of shame crashing over him, “I got a little mad! I got a little pissed off. Cause I didn’t like hearin’ someone say they were gonna hurt my friend.”

And with that, he just... deflates, not unlike a punctured tyre. All the hot air inside him is dispelled with every heave of his mighty chest whilst he peers down at you, feeling the weight of your stare upon him. 

Guilt leaves a sour taste in his mouth, rancid and acidic.

You look so.. 

...scared.

Sometimes Strife forgets that to you, he’s an unassailable figure from biblical legend, a bringer of the end days and an ancient gunman with a body count higher than there are grains of sand on the earth. Of course you’re going to be scared of him when he’s raising his voice at you and towering over you like this. And all because he’d had the life scared out of him in the first place.

“I’m sorry, kid. I didn’t mean to -” The words die on his lips and he sighs, defeatedly casting his eye over towards your bedroom window. He doesn’t want to leave you, not without knowing that his siblings have dealt with the remaining threats to your life. But... “I’ll just.. I’ll go.”

Turning his back on you, the Horseman bends to retrieve his discarded cuirass and takes a step towards the window, but a voice, thin as the cobwebs in the corner of your room, stops him in his tracks.

“Strife.” 

The Horseman doesn’t move. he just stares at the darkness through your curtains.

Minutes pass without another word said between you. He remains stubbornly silent, hardly daring to breathe let alone respond to his name, until eventually, he hears a soft huff and rustling behind him.

Footsteps pad across the room and your scent grows stronger as you draw near, wafting over him like an intoxicating aroma before your hand places itself into his palm and he instinctively curls his fingers around it, shuddering at the feel of your soft skin pressed like silk against his roughened hide.

Your tiny, fragile hand... Creator, he really is just a beast standing next to you, isn’t he? The last time he felt this monstrous was..

No. Strife abruptly slams the shutters of his mind down around any thoughts of the Animus. Now is not the time to let dredge up old memories.

Luckily, your voice breaks through the haze and keeps him grounded. “Come on, big guy. Stay here, please?"

“You want me to stay?” he chokes out a laugh, “Even after I scared you?”

“Scared me? What?” It’s your turn to sound confused. “You didn’t scare me Strife, you shocked me. I’ve never seen you this serious before.” 

The Horseman half turns to face you, giving you a glimpse of his warm, golden eyes. “And, I’ve never had a best friend before.” he admits slowly, hearing a soft intake of breath behind him.

“Wait?... I’m your best friend?”

With your hand still in his, Strife steps around slowly to face you, shooting you a quizzical glance. “Uh, yeah? I mean, I don’t exactly have a plethora of friends to choose from, so the competition isn’t that fie- Oof!”

He’s violently interrupted by a soft, squishy body colliding with his. 

You fling your arms around the stunned Horseman’s waist and bury your face into his chest, momentarily forgetting about his injury. Strife, meanwhile, has to employ every molecule of willpower he owns to refrain from flinching, fearing that you’ll let go if he does. He can’t ignore how high his heart just jumped at the feeling of you pressed against him, nor the way his soul soars after realising that you still trust him enough to get this close. 

It’s something that both he and his siblings are all having to get used to, these impromptu hugs. 

Fury had almost flipped you over her shoulder and onto the ground the first time you came at her with your arms open wide, assuming you were going in for an attack. 

War had pulled the most remarkable face, a mixture of alarm and wary delight that caused Strife to keel over in hysterics when you threw your arms around his broad stomach.

Death... Well, Strife hadn’t been around to witness your first hug with his oldest brother, but he imagines it must have been like hugging a block of cold stone.

And Strife? Well, he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the first hug you gave him. It was so tight and comfortable, and for all of a moment, the only things that existed were the two of you. Inside the binding circle of your arms, his troubles couldn’t touch him, the anguish of his sins took a backseat and he became convinced that he could live happily and peacefully until the end of time trapped in your silent embrace.

The sentiment hasn’t dulled with frequency either. Every hug he receives is as powerful and intoxicating as the last. 

This one is no different. 

Strife's large, thickset arms carefully raise to your delicate back and shoulders, where he simply folds himself around you, pushing the nose of his helm into your soft, messy hair and drawing in a long, deep breath, earning your snort of amusement.

“You a big fan of coconut, then?”

“Is that what that smell is?” he mumbles, feeling the world settle around him as his eyes slip shut, “S'different from last time...”

“...Setting aside the fact that you remember what my hair smelled like last time we hugged.. I ran out of apple shampoo.”

“Mmm.” He trails off, humming into your hair, a sound that rumbles straight through you and leaves the top of your head tingling.

It takes your brain another few seconds to recall the injury on his torso.

“Oh, shit,” you hiss, leaning back and instantly finding your progress blocked by the Horseman's sturdy forearms. “I'm sorry, I didn't think -”

“- Eh, s'fine,” he cuts you off.

“It's not! I forgot, you need to be resting it!”

Strife grumbles his displeasure when you suddenly become very wriggly. “Strife, let go. You should be resting, not standing.”

Cracking one eye open, he roves his gaze over towards your bed. “Resting, huh? …. Not a bad idea.”

Without warning, he stoops down, and for the second time tonight, you find yourself suddenly swept up off your feet, bleating out a garbled squawk of alarm. “Stop picking me up! You'll start bleeding again!”

Smirking to himself, the Horseman takes two, loping steps towards your bed and lowers you down amongst the folds of the duvet, taking great pleasure in crawling over the top of you to get to the other side, armour and all. It isn't the first time he's rested in your bed, usually following a long night of playing your video games and catching up on all the human things he's been missing out on, and it likely won't be the last.

The bed springs creak despondently as he lifts his corner of the duvet and flops heavily onto his side next to you, grinning at the unimpressed glare you're shooting him.

“I like your bed,” he announces, burrowing himself deeper beneath the duvet, “You got a lot of pillows. And-”

His hand rustles beneath the covers for a moment before he winks... and slowly draws out David Hasselhoof, wiggling him back and forth in front of your eyes. “There's room for a threesome.”

“Oh my god. Goodnight, Strife!” Your lips quiver until you give in and crack a genuine smile, grabbing a pillow and whapping it softly down onto his helm. You get no resistance from the Horseman at all in retaliation. He merely lays there with his head hidden, black tufts of hair sticking out from behind your pillow as his shoulders bounce around a throaty chuckle.

Leaving him where he is, you roll over, turn off the fairy lights and plunge your bedroom into cozy, unassailable darkness.

A thick silence falls over the two of you, and the back of your neck begins to prickle, sensing without a shadow of a doubt that the Horseman's eyes are open and watching you. Sure enough, you peel your eyelids apart and find that your far wall is faintly illuminated by the golden light that emanates from his gaze.

Rolling your eyes, you resign yourself to a long night of fighting for your covers and kicking a wriggling Horseman back over onto his own side of the bed. And yet... if it's him, if it's Strife, it most likely won’t bother you in the slightest.

The alarm clock on your bedside table steadily ticks over to the three o'clock mark and you finally feel sleep crawl up behind your eyes. Just as you think you might nod off, however, the bed shakes ever so slightly, and behind you, there's the sound of shuffling sheets. It stops just as suddenly as it starts and you snort, chalking it up to a certain, restless Horseman trying to get used to the human-sized bed.

Several more minutes pass.

The shuffling starts up again, then it stops.

The same thing happens again a few more minutes later and your eyes snap open when something cool and solid nudges gently into the back of your head and you hear a quiet sniff before the whole bed shudders as the enormous Horseman laying upon it releases a monstrously low rumble of contentment.

-----

Strife leaves his helm right behind you all night, not that you'd know until the morning however, when you jerk awake to your bedroom door suddenly slamming open and Death thundering inside. He takes one look at his brother laying at your back and promptly begins a lecture that you're fairly certain will be the favoured topic of neighbourhood gossip for some time to come.

[kanthypantsalltheway]

Can you analyse how Book!bridgerton siblings and show!bridgerton siblings are different?

Thank you so much!:)

Ooooh alright! So I have lots of thoughts about this because we can all agree that book!characters and show!characters are quite different despite the actors putting their best efforts. Afterall they can only do so much when the scripts persist on creating another image altogether. Let's get into it.

Anthony Bridgerton- phewww, the way they butchered him, im- Alright so, first things first, Anthony Bridgerton NEVER neglected his family. He is always portrayed to be obedient despite his life being in tatters and his fear of death hovering over him. I know, I know, it was for character development, but they could have taken a better approach. He was lost, depressed, dripping with sadness and fear, true, but he never talked back to his mother (and violet was never a bitch), never thought about anything else other than his siblings's wishes. He would have NEVER forced Daphne to marry to someone like Nigel. He would have been worried, a bit stern even but never so cruel as to ignoring her wishes. Also, he was never 'attached' to one lady before Kate. Again it might have been for his character arc, but it was a bad attempt at the end because people started romanticizing his and Sienna's toxic relationship. He would never have been jealous of her mingling and seducing other man, because frankly, he is a rake ever since he sneaked out of Oxford for a quick shag. He knew his duties since he was eighteen, and he sure as hell knew who to stay away from. Besides, it doesn't take much time for one to know that even he KNEW how frustrated and hopeless their arrangment was. Book!Anthony was always logical. But thank god for Johnny, he literally made me want to kill show! Anthony and want to comfort him all the same.

Benedict Bridgerton- Book!Benedict wasnt such a bad boy, but hey, I'm not complaining. Luke Thompson didn't have THAT much screentime, but he slayed his fifteen minutes there. I do think his character, although a bit different is quite similar to book! Benedict. A bit shy, in the shadows at time, but sensible when required. A voice of intelligence when Anthony's concern overtakes his sanity. I know the book didn't show much about his feeling towards the working class, but show!Benedict seems to be aware of the society outside of upper-class, which is a relief and a good gradual progress of the show hinting towards at Sophie too.

Colin Bridgerton- Colin has always been humourous and a foodie. How could they butcher my boy and NOT include those qualities???? I mean that's peak Colin right there. Always sneaking food, always talking even when he has one of hands holding food to his mouth, and the other on his belly. He has the most amazing sense of humour and would lighten the situation, NOT MAKE IT WORSE BY MARRYING A WOMAN OUT OF NOWHERE. He was the closest to Daphne. He always was her favourite brother and they had a good chance to focus on that instead of torturing Marina and making Colin look like a fool. Also, he never proposed to any woman other than Penelope. It's crazy how they ruined so many things in one season. Let's hope for the best going forward. Luke Newton could have brilliantly done Colin being the cheeky part, because he just plays it wonderfully. What a missed opportunity.

Daphne Bridgerton- The main reason she wasn't attracting suitors was she was too friendly towards the men of the ton, that they could only portray her as a friend and not as a suitor. She wasn't a Diamond of the first water, she was never even shown having a friendly relation with the men of the ton. She also had a good sense of humour as compared to show!Daphne. She remarked how men were idiots when she saw her brother and Simon fight, she shared how much she loved Colin. Despite Daphne being a bit plain as was her charcter and also being problematic, (which again the writers and showrunners had ample chance of removing the rape scene altogether) she was portrayed beautifully by Phoebe.

Eloise Bridgerton- the show butchered Eloise the same way they did Anthony. Book!Eloise was yes, always bold, sure she was going to be a spinster, but she was never a feminist. I mean, show!Eloise isn't a feminist either, she has a long way to go for it. But the show tried to portray Eloise as this insufferable woman who was always against marriage where other woman were concerned, when she was infact not. Book!Eloise didn't hate Daphne, she didn't mind at all that Daphne was getting married. She and Benedict weren't that close, but again, i am not complaining that they are in the show. She considered herself more so as a spinster than anything else, but she never criticised others for marrying. Although, Book!Eloise was quite ignorant at times. They did portray the difference between the marriage prospects of Eloise and Penelope quite well. How, Eloise WAS a pretty Bridgerton, she had money, prospects and her family support. While Penelope, as shown, her family was suffering from a debt, no prospects for her, and her family couldn't care less about her. Book!Eloise didn't want to unravel Lady Whistledown's identity, she was curious, as was her nature and wanted to have fun. It wasn't her motive. It was Colin's motive. But either way, Claudia saved Eloise's ass, made show!Eloise look like this talkative and curious person, which she is.

Francesca- GIVE MY GIRL FRANCESCA MORE SCREENTIME. But also, isn't it marvellous how Ruby Stokes, with her two minutes of screentime caught Francesca's personality so perfectly? Maybe it is because her screentime was short for the showrunners and script writers to ruin her character in the show, but I'm immensely grateful how much similarities both the book and show Francesca have! Whimsical, introvert, sweet and a keen eye. Perfect. Now bring her back from aunt Winnie's, but don't ruin her character.

Gregory and Hyacinth- ah my babieeeesssss, they are too young to be portrayed as their individual books!character but the small tidbits that we saw in other books of young Gregory and Hyacinth really did match with that of show!Gregory and Hyacinth! Both insufferably cute and cheeky. But what made me sad was how they missed the opportunity to show little Gregory who was so excited that he slipped in the water of Thames and Hyacinth who literally flirted with Simon! Either way, I love Will Tilson and Florence Hunt, they are like real life Gregory and Hyacinth!

Honestly, so much good would have served if they stayed true to the book and it's humour rather than its problematic scenes.

[imkylotrash]

Whatever It Takes

Pairing: Finnick Odair x reader

Request: They’re getting ready to go into the Quarter Quell, and essentially have a super sweet conversation where they confess their love, and are like “damn the revolution I’ll protect you”. Anonymous

A/N It’s been a long time since I read the books so if I accidentally used the wrong word for something please let me know and I’ll correct it 💛

Tagging: @bitchwhytho​ @music-of-melody​

You called it before they even announce it. You knew all the victors would get involved in the Quarter Quell because how else would he get Katniss to be in the arena without letting the public know that it’s purely to kill her? When you hear Finnick’s name get called out, there’s no choice. But was there ever one to begin with?  

“I volunteer as tribute,” you say raising your hand to let them know that you’ll be going into the Quarter Quell and not that poor girl they’ve got on stage. You don’t look at Finnick because you know his face will just mirror back the pain you feel. No matter what the revolution has planned, you highly doubt that both of you gets out alive. The focus will be on Katniss because she’s the one that’s been fuelling the fire while the rest of you can die a martyr and inspire the people then Katniss’ death would squash the tiny flame. It’s not fair but she made everything possible when she took out those berries. 

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Finnick tells you once you’re on the train travelling to the Capitol. 

“There was no way I was going to let you go alone.” Not to mention that innocent girl who got drafted. You’d have been a proper piece of shit had you not volunteered. 

“But you could’ve survived. Don’t you understand that’s all I care about?” 

“Careful, Finnick. Someone might hear your declaration of love and think it means something else.” It’s a warning that the walls have ears and not necessarily just the Capitol’s ears. Although you both want to think only the best of the lovely Coin, you can’t help but feel like it’s too good to be true. And you have no doubt that she’s got as many spies all around as President Snow. 

“I just want you to live,” he says hearing your warning loud and clear. Katniss and to some extent Peeta are untouchable, you are not. He takes your hand without another word. The rest of the train ride you remain quiet, too worried about saying the wrong thing and jeopardising this whole thing. Haymitch is counting on to keep Katniss alive until the rescue mission and your lives can’t matter more than the entire of Panem. Even if you want to say screw that sometimes.

“God, you’ve gotten old,” you smile spotting Haymitch next to the star-crossed lovers. He scoffs but can’t help but laugh. You’ve known each other for quite some time now and learned a long time ago that humour is how you all get through this with at least some level of sanity.

“I see your kindness have only grown over the years,” he mocks before giving you a massive hug. Being a victor and having to mentor the kids every year creates a certain bond between you all but Haymitch has always been one of your favourites. It’s the reason you know you can trust him to do you a favour. 

“We should talk once all the celebrations die down. Catch up on old times,” you smile giving his shoulder a friendly squeeze. He agrees suggesting the rooftop for a gorgeous view. When Finnick sneaks his arm around you, there’s a slight pang of guilt but you force it to the back of your mind. He’s going to survive the Quarter Quell if you can do anything about it. 

“What did you talk about?” he asks quietly and you keep a smile on your face not even looking at him. 

“Just good old days,” you utter hoping Finnick will understand not to ask more questions right now. There are too many people around you to speak freely and, in a minute, you’ll have to get on that carriage and pretend you’re proud to be fighting once again. 

“Katniss, Peeta!” you call out catching their attention just as they’re about to get on their carriage, “nice costumes.” You’re trying to be nice and establish some sort of positive relation between you but all it does is make Katniss stare at you like you’re personally responsible for putting her in the Quarter Quell. 

“I already tried. Tough nut,” Finnick tells you. It makes sense why the revolution needs a face but why they would ever choose someone like Katniss is beyond you. She’s not kind or caring expect when it comes to the people she loves. The future of Panem seems oddly low on her list of priorities but then again when has war ever made sense? And you certainly can’t say you’re morally better than her. 

“Is holding hands a cliché?” You look over to Finnick who’s doing his very best to put on a brave face.

“I think it’s perfect.” You intertwine your fingers with his not letting go until the carriage has driven through those gates at the end where the public can’t see you anymore. And even then, it’s just to get some blood flow back. 

“I just want some sleep,” Finnick says itching to get the costume off and you’re thinking the same thing. You ride up in the elevator with Katniss, Peeta and Joanna which makes for an interesting end to the day. 

“Never a dull moment,” you say before exiting the elevator with Finnick. Joanna laughs loudly while both Katniss and Peeta looks slightly mortified. If she’s trying to win over Katniss, Joanna is doing a poor job. 

“Let’s take a shower,” Finnick suggests now that you’re finally alone and you’re all too happy to comply. In the shower you can finally speak freely with the sound of water drowning out the sound of your voices. 

“I know it’s horrible to say but the revolution doesn’t matter to me if I don’t have you next to me when it’s done.” He slowly lets his hands slide down your arms until they reach your hands. 

“I know,” you whisper feeling the exact same way. The guilt returns tenfold this time but you keep quiet knowing that when he’s sleeping tonight, you’ll be bargaining for his life. 

“I say damn the revolution. I swore to protect to you a long time ago and I’m not breaking that promise now.” He kisses you with a fire that tells you just how badly he wants to keep you safe. Desperation takes over your body as you kiss him back. You wish you could leave now and hide somewhere far away from everything. If it were up to you, you would’ve fled the moment you heard about the Quarter Quell. But it’s difficult leaving behind so many decent people who needs your help and the few moments of hesitation had been enough for the peacekeepers to show up and make sure you didn’t take off. Snow always knew you were a runner. 

“And I say you’re sounding crazy. We can’t change the plan now. There’s nowhere to run.” As much as you’d love to run away and hide with him, you know it’s too late for that now. You wouldn’t make it out of the building. 

“I don’t care if I sound crazy. We can protect each other in the arena, make sure we never part. And when they come get us, we make sure they grab both of us.” It’s cruel really to give hope to him because you know it won’t work but you wish it could be so easy. 

“And then when we’re out, we hide. No more war, no more revolution. Just you and me and a small cottage near the water.” Hope may be cruel but it’s a strong motivator to survive and if anything you need Finnick to survive. You hide your face in the crook of his neck allowing yourself to feel a pang of sadness at the prospect of the future you’ve lost. Your lives ended the day you got drawn for the Hunger Games. 

“And you can finally have enough quiet to paint,” he adds and you don’t have to see his face to see the affection in his eyes. 

“It would be perfect,” you say closing your eyes to picture the cottage and the life you could’ve had with Finnick. The water hides the tears that fall from your eyes and it’s a good thing because you’re not sure you would be able to hold your secret from spilling out if Finnick noticed. 

“I promise I will make it happen. I promise we’ll be alive to spend the rest of our lives together. Whatever it takes,” he says. Instead of answering him, you kiss him again. When the water turns cold, you get out and dry off. You both know that your safety is gone now and they can hear whatever you say so you keep quiet letting your eyes do the talking. You cuddle up in bed where you wait for him to drift off before you head to the roof where Haymitch is waiting. The wind is loud tonight working as a noise diffuser. 

“I want you to save him.” It doesn’t surprise Haymitch but you both know he can’t make any promises. 

“I know Katniss is the main goal and that’s she’s probably made some demand for Peeta. But if there comes a choice between saving Finnick or the rest, you save him. Do you understand?” It’s the least he can do for you after everything you’ve sacrificed for President Coin and the revolution. You could’ve had a life if things had gone differently. 

“And that includes me, Haymitch. Once you’ve gotten Katniss and Peeta out, Finnick is your priority,” you add knowing that if Haymitch could choose, he’d pick you. 

“Finnick will make more sense for the revolution. I won’t be an asset the way he can be.” He knows you’re right. Of course he does but it doesn’t mean he has to like it. 

“I know,” he grumbles. You both know there’s a good chance you won’t make it out of that arena but then again none of you have been safe ever since you became victors. Snow made sure of that. 

“Promise me. I need to hear you say it.” You’re not satisfied until you hear him say those words that will give Finnick a chance to make it. As much as you’d love to believe his plan of getting out of the arena together, you can’t afford to entertain the idea. Even if Finnick isn’t ready to admit it, you both know it’s a fairy tale ending you won’t get. 

“I always thought he was just your way of getting through it, you know. That he offered some sort of relieve.” Maybe at first Finnick was your escape from reality but not now. He’s your world and everything else. 

“He has my heart, Haymitch.” You hug him tightly hoping he knows how much his friendship has meant to you over the years of being a mentor.

“Take care,” he says before you spin around hurrying back. Finnick doesn’t wake up until you crawl back to bed but a quick excuse about the bathroom satisfies his curiosity. 

“I love you,” you whisper looking over at the man who’s given you so much more than you’ll ever be able to explain. 

“I love you more.” 

[inkykeiji]

Oh to be Professor Keigo's star pupil. Sending an upskirt photo of your different, increasingly scanty, panties each day on your lunch break. Until one day there's panties at all n.n

THIS IS CANON IN MY AU THIS IS FUCKING CANON OH MY GOD ANON

tw: student professor relationship, implied cheating

the first time it happens, he laughs it off, thinking you’re just being a little playful, just being a little tease, just having a little fun. that he can handle—he has a sense of humour, too, of course, and he thinks it’s cute, thinks it’s sweet, thinks it’s almost precious in a way, the photo holding a paradoxical sense of naughty innocence, as though they’re subtly imbued with an essence of voyeurism, even though he knows they aren’t—and he likes it, texting back a photo of those smooth, large hands you love so much, a pen lazily perched between his nimble fingers along with a caption that reads two can play this game, never expecting it to go further than this.

except it continues to happen, phone vibrating with a new photo every afternoon: those cute cotton panties with the pretty lace trim that he had gifted you, clinging delicately to your flesh; sheer red chiffon that sticks to you like a second skin and leave little to the imagination—touya’s doing, no doubt; expensive satins and silks in ivory and blush, lavish and extravagant and absurdly costly for underwear—definitely from tenko; day after day after day, accelerating from cheeky bikini cuts to teasing tulle to strappy thongs to absolutely nothing at all.

and he can’t help but wonder, are you sending these to the other two men, too? the question sears through his mind, chased by a flash of scalding anger while sharp envy corrodes his chest, consuming flesh and bone as it gnaws away, breathe escaping his lips in little wheezes.

and you—well, you think you’re getting away with it, giggles bubbling up in your throat with each of your professors increasingly irritated responses—a certain type of giddiness that makes you feel heady and powerful buzzing through your veins; a sensation that comes packaged with the knowledge that you have such an intense effect on him—until finally he shatters, phone buzzing with a threat almost immediately after the pantyless photo, reading: that’s enough. you better be outside my fucking office the moment class ends—an order not to be disobeyed.

author note: ooooh he is so done fucking around!!! no more games reader ur really gonna get it now!!! hahaha sorry to leave you high and dry but i’m a tease just like the reader <333 ehehehe no it’s actually because i’m writing something in his office right now so!!!!!! oh my god you know he’d be so fucking furious tho lmao and he’s definitely worked himself into a frenzied panic draped in hazy jealousy for no reason at all (or is it? 😈)!!! but he’s so cruel and stern and he absolutely hates being played with :( unless he gets his revenge, of course :) then it’s fun; then it’s worth it <3

[merakiui]

welcome to the day a duck ruins your perception of items in genshin impact. i uh. made some items in genshin impact as yandere boys and what they're like sort of?? you could try and burn your eyes now. ;) adepti seekers stove- he's going to be a tsundere no buts or uhts. he's the type of yandere that's trying to be protective and failing miserably everytime. so being impatient and angsty. so, he resorts in kidnapping you instead. but hey look on the bright side! even when you're kidnapped you can have delicious meals and snacks! secretly likes to cook for you a lot, but he won't admit it even in death. just don't question why there's a lingering scent of sleeping potions in your meal and you'll be good as jolly jee! probably wants you to help him in the kitchen, since he once heard that couples do that. would probably give you self esteem issues down the line. "didn't i tell you to not get hurt? are you that much of an idiot?? here. have this it'll lessen the pain just a bit so we can walk back home. just drink it already." windsong lyre- smug bastard, smug shit. he's probably a player or just overly dramatic with everything. maybe he's righteous or something.. likes to show off his music skills a lot. he sucks at it tho. gaslights you probably in public places to add more pressure, because people are staring like you're having a performance or something. calls you love even if he's pissed at you for not listening to him, or accusing him of being toxic or suspecting him of being your stalker that always watches you from your window at 2am! would make you paranoid a lot. loves kissing your cheek and tickling you. he's a closeted pervert. you're gonna have to move in an isolated place too, he will spread rumours of you being his lover. "love, I'm sure that you're just overreacting. plus even if i was the stalker that you're talking about I wouldn't be oh so casually talking to you in public when I could've been hiding! jeez it's like your going crazy." wind-blessed harpastrum- such sweety! just so wholesome bakes you a pie in tuesday sweet. seems patient too but beware he will break your legs when you get a little bit too bratty for his tastes. touch starved too and it shows, that's why he loves to cuddle you lots! really obsessed with what you think of him. if you say you hate him he'll tear up and try to convince you that he's good, but if you pretend that you like him he'll shower you with uncomfortable affection and confessions. really great at making bombs and torture weapons too. probably sewed in a bomb inside your body threatened that he will kill you with it if you leave. bad at darts and archery. if you say that to him he'll laugh and take out his diploma saying that he's too smart for those childish games. he's impulsive in decision making. "haha. you know. you almost escaped from me back there. but hey! now you won't do anything stupid like that ever again if you can't walk." windblume balloon: listen man. im going to be killed but he's an airhead, pun intended right there. probably lowkey manipulative and doesn't even know it yet or chooses to ignore it. protective of you a lot. really delusional to the point that he rationalizes your escape as someone kidnapping you. so say goodbye to whoever poor stranger who was trying to help you escape they'll be greeted by an arrow through their head once he finds you. has a habit of holding your hand because he's afraid you might disappear from his line of sight and leave him all alone. if you let go tho he'll gorilla grip your hand, might crush it too. just very overprotective. he also doesn't know that he's an airhead. yeah."hm? why do i like holding you hand..? i just like it.. your hand makes me feel... uh. safe..? is that the word for it? ah. it was the word loved." wind catcher- he's a full on sadist. throw all of your escape plans out the window, this guy will climb a mountain and ride any wind current available to catch and torture you. persistently trying to make you like him atleast a bit. yeah, he's that kind of delusional. would teasingly push you

of a cliff as a 'light' punishment. dark humour and likes to joke about killing you from time to time. note: he can kill you. and he would also do it by ripping you in half with the wind current so just stay in his house and be a good lover that'll shower him in kisses, okay? okay. he mostly sees you as a tool of interest, but not just any tool- you're his favourite tool. "pfft! hey stop crying now! you're making me feel bad! hm? oh? why am i doing this? well i mean maybe I'm angry that someone was trying to escape. again." warming bottle- he will absolutely leave you in the cold if you were being a brat towards him. lives in dragonspine to spite you, also because he can just turn take away your blankets and anything that can give warmth so you gotta ask him to cuddle you to survive. he usually does this when he's feeling a little petty. which is so frequent. that you can almost give it a schedule. but don't tell him that. kind of a tsundere but only when it comes to physical affection since he's shy. that's why he has to take away your blankets so it looks like he's just mocking you but not because he's touch starved. he's not at home that much too but don't worry, he will make it up to you by uh.. physical activities.. "what? you're freezing? no shit we're in dragonspine. oh? you want me to hug you..? hm. fine. I'll indulge you for a bit. I am quite merciful." parametric transformer- businessman that scams you a lot lol. he's going to be a masochist because i said so, yeah i know the electric stone thing gag that's why i made him a masochist. really likes to collect useless stuff and spoiling you, so expect your room to be filled with a lot of random things from jewelry to mushrooms and crabs. has a you should be grateful i even give stuff mindset. thinks that giving someone something of vaue would make them fall in love with him instantly. also probably loves it when you fight back especially when you successfully land a hit on him, he will enjoy it. but be careful he has different responses whenever you hit him. pick your poison. spends a ton of resources on everything to keep you in line. that rope costed him 700 pinecones. "why do you even wanna escape? i give you a ton of stuff so you won't get bored! hah. maybe if i had picked up someone else they would've been grateful." portable waypoint- throw out your escape plans the season sequel. he's very quiet but has a small temper that won't last that much. maybe he's like that since he tries so hard to repress it. listen he's trying okay? escape always fails so quickly. one minute you're in springvale shouting, crying, begging for anyone to help you and then back to his house to see him sipping some tea. his punishments are cruel too- he makes sure to leave you in a den of monsters and ruin guards, waits until your in the brink of death and teleports you back to him. has a superiority complex over everyone too. probably likes to make you feel weak when you have to rely on him. loves to crush your self esteem. wants to be affectionate but thinks that you, as an inferior being, should be affectionate with him instead. so tsun. "see? this is what i was trying to tell you. you're too weak to actually survive out there. you even had to rely on me to save you. pathetic." memento lens- mysterious and elegant. he's quite cryptic to say the least. likes to watch you from a far if he's feeling a bit angsty. you try to make sense of what he says and it just leads to you being confused even more. and he likes that about you. you actually try to understand him, even if what you guess is wrong. you're going to have a tough time with this guy if you wanna escape. just avoid any fox statues and you'll be good. the problem is the shrine maidens. they basically want the two of you to end up together so they don't have to deal with him. he's actually very gentle with you punishments still suck but atleast he doesn't do it physically, he just makes you write that you're sorry over and over until your wrist are tired. loves poetry and solving puzzles, riddles, scriptures. he's

smart but soft. "spring blossoms even in the darkest depths of uncertainty, is that why you have the courage to try and escape me..?" kamera- perfectionist stalker. wants to make sure that the photos he takes of you are perfect to every extent. colour, lighting, and expressions. even if it means going inside your room and having the possibility of waking you up from your sleep. likes to take pictures of everything too. kind of like this; both of you are walking somewhere and he stops to take a picture of a sunset. he takes twenty minutes trying to find the correct angle. but the sun is already gone so he sulks. maybe- you can cheer him up by volunteering to be his model? you'll do that? right? also worships you like a god so if someone dared to even say something breath near you or celestia forbid insult you, best to say they'll be quickly disposed of by blackmail and fake shit. would not steal any of your belongings, he would just take pictures of it. so he's not that bad. "i consider everything in this world is beautiful, but you have surpassed that. so that is why im keeping you here. no one deserves even a glimpse of you!" waverider toolbox- he's such a gentlemen and a sweetheart. always there to help you with repairs, sometimes he'd add some updates to it too. just ignore the stuff going missing inside your boat thing. he probably guilt-gaslight you into staying with him in his waverider then bam your in an island stranded. ahaha, now both of you just have to survive by working together ya know? like a loving couple likes hugs and physical affection a lot! bonus points if it's given when he's tired from doing his job. as i said tired guy so appreciates all the things you do for him whether it's paying for his meal or giving him a gift. next time, he'll make sure that you won't leave the island permanently. thinks that stranded island equals date smh. " ahh? oh! is this for me? really? thank you.. i don't usually receive gifts but that just makes this even more special! say, do you wanna go on a trip? i just fixed the waverider from last time." red feather fan- mischievous little shit. likes to scare you a lot by appearing on trees and just jumping on you. knows that you're trying to escape but pretends not to since he likes to try and guess which direction you would run to. hugs you a lot even before he kidnaps you really touchy even if you say no he'll use the good ol puppy eyes! doesn't work? okay he'll just smell your clothes when you're sleeping as compensation. he likes to flirt with you a lot. some pickup are cheesy.. but others are a little- personal? acts cool by making a dramatic entrance everytime even. you know those radical superhero landing stuff? that's him. he would build a nest as your house even being a dick and placing it on top of a mountain, goodluck on trying to get down. "caught you! going to the shore was so predictable by the way. maybe you should try a different place next time, dear? hm? maybe a restaurant so we can have date? sounds great right?" serenitea pot- unhinged malewife that wants to make a the perfect living space for you- ehem. probably a perfectionist if you squint hard enough. he's delusional but just a little lucid about the stuff he does to you. likes to make a ton of furniture too! personalized the room you're trapped in with a ton of valuable and expensive materials. just don't try to escape he'll cut your limbs off just like a damn tree shawtie. owns a shit ton of pets ranging from boars to cats. all of them are like bodyguards to you during your stay. dreams about having a peaceful life with you in the realm someday, sigh. he sometimes has burnouts where he just places a bunch of furniture on a single room and call it a day. "and here is your room! do.. do you like it? i made it just for you! i didn't know what wood you would prefer so i just settled on whatever i can find! ahaha. we're kind of like a married couple living together now... right?" nre menu- he's probably going to be from the adventurers guild. really awkward and shy. takes for him a long time to

open up to you. when going on quests he's the one in charge of carrying the food and healing shit you need. really patient and nice! slightly uh mean with other people trying to talk to you but other than that everything is normal. everything is normal the long loving gaze he gives you every now and then and some food being left on your doorstep. yeah let's not question it i mean he's just so shy! he would never do anything wrong? right?? he's a closeted pervert, cliche i know but he's a pervert with a line to not cross. he just checks you out. good for him. would cry if given any ounce of affection. sweet baby. "t-that was a tough commission.. oh u-uh.. do you need some food to replenish your energy? we need to do the other commissions you know.. hm? why aren't you eating it.. something wrong with the food..?" seelies- spoiled. that's the word to describe him. really straight forward with his courting kind of dumb? but he's so damn lucky for some unknown reason that your plans to avoid him always fail. yeah the high quality rope you just bought for 1000 mora? it broke and you fell into his arms. he's probably rich by sheer dumb luck too. finds a ton treasure chests even in the places you didn't expect. people pressure you into spending time with him. since he's just so cute! how could say no to such a face? it really feels like the gods are on his side ya know? he throws a lot of very very aggressive tantrums if you're not with him. thinks he's doing a good job at courting you, with rationalize rejection as a playing hard to get. "tada! look i got you this crystal i found while i was walking! it looks like a diamond and it has a ton of colours too?? is it valuable?? would you kiss me if i give it to you??" endora- majestic, regal, and likes to explore a lot. he uh. probably trapped you in a bubble once or twice too. really curious about his surroundings, also has no personal space since it's first time going out. he would cuddle you when he feels like it homie. kidnapped you and made you his tour guide. don't try to fool him he learns quickly about stuff. fast swimmer, so no joining any expeditions in water if you don't want their ship to be wrecked by a mysterious being of the teyvat seas. he likes to see you cry. it's not a kink he just feels connected to you when you cry. doesn't have a house so you just live in a run down boat. he's doesn't know when you're lying to him sometimes. god complex bastard. "this world. at first i wasn't sure if i was going to like it or not, but ever since I've met you... I've grown to tolerate some parts.. so you should be thankful, you've convinced me. mortal." intertwined fate/older twin- listen. he's just so smug about everything he does. and he knows you love him. probably invites you out on dinner only for him to not show up. so basically he's an asshole without a doubt. toxic boyfriend that gives you false hope and has a ton of admirers. you probably think he won't settle for you right? ah, he's not that cruel. so picks you as his lover out of all the billions of people. you should be grateful! he even kidnapped you! do you know how hard it was for him to go all the way from his home to yours? anyways yeah. asshole. he likes to do the open the door for darling trick where he just gives you a small crack on the door and watch you make a decision. it's an act of your loyalty. if you escape he'll make you feel pain. if you don't then he'll reward your patience. god complex bastard 2."sigh. did you try to escape? again? patience is the key to everything you know. maybe you should learn that. i expected more smart from you." acquaint fate/younger twin- cinnamonroll he's such a sweet guy. he's always there for you when you need him. okay- he has a nice guy complex, fucking damn it. probably uses the but I've been there for you since the start trick unintentionally a lot. he just doesn't know he wants some action, so be thankful that he didn't just jump on you like a barbarian. he's kind of contradicting himself too. one hand he wants you to love him, on the other hand he doesn't

believe he deserves you. loves to give you the same things, remember that one painting you liked from two years ago? he got you that. quantity beats quality. surprisingly, he's really patient but would have bursts of anger every now and then. has a self value issues?? yeah, but did i tell you he's a touch starved guy. punshments are just him softly lecturing you about what's good and what's wrong."i always viewed myself as inferior, that i didn't deserve anything.. but this time. i want to be greedy just once." that's it- :'D i haven't proofread this but here you go mer! ill probably continue with more humanisations of items in genshin later.. if you ask why i ruined your day with this crazy idea i was watching that one video of a person humanising social media and got this idea. also i discovered how to bold out texts... i have power..ejwjdhshaj

so yeah have a great day! -🦆anon

I AM IN AWE?!?! WHOA OMG!!!!! 🦆, THIS IS FANTASTIC!! AAAAAA (≧∀≦)

All of the various characterizations… *chef’s kiss* It’s literally so good! With each one I read I kept thinking okay this guy is my favorite and then I would read the next description and my heart was stolen again. I can’t pick a favorite now. T_T

[christ0pher-evans]

Could you please write a Chris Evans imagine where the reader is an actress and has to shave her head or cut her hair short for a role and is worried that chris will no lomger be attracted to her anymore? And he reassures her that he loves her no matter what?

Always | Chris Evans ♥

Pairings: Chris Evans x Actress!Reader Warnings: Mentions of Mental Health Issues [Anxiety] / Tooth-Rotting Fluff! Word Count: 881

My first request😘😘 hopefully this fluffy imagine will help me out of my writers block! Thanks for the inspo anon! Hope you enjoy x [Also pls feel free to send me any requests, they are always open!] Please reblog and like🖤

♡

As you sit in front of the mirror in your bedroom, you sigh at your reflection. Catching your eyes in the background, you look at the wall of photos of your life so far with Chris. Premiere photos. Wedding photos. Honeymoon photos.

You had been married to Chris for almost a year now and it had been just over that amount of time that you’d decided to take a break from your acting career. You loved your job and you loved your husband, but combining the two could be a vicious circle. You had amazing and supportive fans, but somehow the negative and nasty people seem to shine through and stick clear in your mind. The publicity of your marriage to Chris had bought about some horrible comments about you online and it had really knocked your confidence as a person and as an actress.

Leading you to this moment, staring at yourself in the mirror as you’d just been offered the biggest movie role of your career yet. You were so excited and couldn’t wait to tell Chris and you felt so overwhelmed with happiness that you knew this was the right time to jump back into your job. You felt you’d been away long enough for the dust to settle. But there was one big catch, well not so much a catch, but one big decision to be made first.

Your character in the movie was bald.

You wanted this movie to be perfect. You already knew you were going to pour your heart and soul into it, and the directors had recently raised the question of whether you would shave your head for the role. They had told you a bald cap could be possible but with your longer hair, it would take at least an extra hour every morning to get that fitted and you didn’t want to be an inconvenience.

Which posed the question, should I shave my head?

Ever since you met Chris, you had aways had luscious long locks and had never changed your hairstyle or hair colour. Your anxiety reared its ugly head as you admired your hair in the mirror. Would people hate on you for going bald? Would you look really weird? Would Chris still be attracted to you if you looked severely different to the person he fell in love with?

Footsteps echoing up the stairs startled you out of your panic and you composed yourself just before Chris drudged himself into the bedroom, flopping straight down on your shared bed.

“What a long day!” He huffed before turning his head towards you.

You smiled weakly, “Hi babe.”

Before it had even registered, Chris was up and standing behind you at the dressing table, a look of concern etched across his face.

“Whats up sweetheart?”

You bite your lip nervously, subconsciously twirling your hair round your fingers.

“So I got offered that lead role..” Chris grinned profusely.

“God baby! That’s amazing! I knew you’d get it! I bet you can’t wait to get started!”

Chris’s excitement was infectious as you showcased a stupidly big grin, which was quickly wiped from your face as Chris started playing with your hair casually.

“So what’s the problem?”, Chris enquired.

You cringed as he played with your hair. It almost seemed like a cruel practical joke as you dealt with your internal battle.

“Chris, would you still love me if I was bald?” You blurted out suddenly and loudly.

“What?! Bald? What are you on about?”

You sighed, “My character, she is bald in the film and they asked if I’d shave my head for the movie but I’m scared of what other people will think, scared you won’t be attracted to me anymore.” You look down, embarrassed.

Immediately, Chris was crouched down by your side, lifting you chin up to force your eye contact with him.

“Baby, there is nothing that you could do that would ever make me not attracted to you. You are quite literally the sexiest person I have ever laid eyes on. Why do you think I put a ring on it ey?!” He nudges your knee playfully, before using his other hand to wipe a tear that was sliding down your cheek. You let out a blubbery chuckle.

He continued, “I love you Y/N. I chose you because there is no one else I want to spend the rest of my life waking up and falling asleep next to, you’re it for me. I don’t care what you look like because I married you for your gorgeous heart and your crude sense of humour and for the way you love me unapologetically, even when I had that moustache!”

You laugh again, a lot louder this tie as your anxiety starts to fizzle away as Chris’s words wash over you. You lean forward, giving Chris a deep kiss, a I don’t know what I would without you kiss.

“Thank you baby, I love you too!”

You knew that whatever decision you made, Chris would still love you because beauty is on the inside. If you could love him when he had that bizarre moustache then you knew he would love you if you shaved your head.

Love is infinite support and meaningful words, simplistic gestures and eternal comfort.

[ramonahblog]

CBS Ghosts Review Ramble

Season One, Episode Seventeen: Attic Girl

Spoilers below the cut. 

Starting off in 1987. What year did Arrow-Guy die? Before or after or the same? 

Also stereotypical creepy setting despite it being the Woodstone Mansion.

Huh, I know there are a lot of myths/legends which are essentially “if you do anything more than lightly kiss as a teenager, you die,” but there is one specific one I’m thinking of. Where the guy gets out of the car while the chick is like “no” and she hears trees scraping the roof and she eventually gets out and the “Tree” scraping the roof was her murdered boyfriend’s feet all this time. Or she tries to get out only for her dead body to fall down from the roof. Cause that latter one makes so much sense. 

I know it said chainsaw killer but that’s what I thought of. Also damn, the casting credits really spoiled that, huh? 

Hetty hoping to possess someone again. 

“You actually booked a guest?!” Hetty giving off a surprise pikachu face here. I don’t even like Pokemon, I just like that meme. 

“You get to use that like two more times,” - Sam. Sorry, Sam. But when you ask your spouse to literally commit corpserobbing, that spouse gets to use that an infinite amount of times. Especially if they did it. 

Also I love how all the other ghosts are like “fair” when Jay responds as to why he gets the nicer chore. 

Here’s Stephanie. I can’t remember if I posted on tumblr or just said it in discord but I did say that if the show went with the expected ghost for Stephanie to have a crush on (Trevor), I would laugh. So *laughing*. 

Sam is like “WHY YOU NEVER TELL ME THERE WAS A GHOST IN AN ATTIC?!” but trying to be polite. This is twice now that the main ghosts haven’t told Sam about the other ghosts. I don’t want to make that two-nickel meme but just know that’s what I’m picturing. Feel free to make the meme yourself. 

Trevor’s face when Hetty goes “and Trevor has a crush on her” 

Okay so I’m assuming the Sam-Stephanie conflict comes from Stephanie’s  - omg I want to shorten her name so badly - crush on Trevor. And also, just letting you know I wrote Sam-Steph before realizing I had no idea if Stephanie was right (listen I was not kidding when I said I was awful with names) and that was not a good combo. 

 “I AM A GOD” - Alberta. Also love the fact that it is Alberta who is heard. Also does this still count as a new power? I feel like it doesn’t count as a new power because Alberta’s power has always been related to her voice. I don’t think it counts as a new power. It’s too similar.  

“Yes, I went down a rabbithole,” - Jay. Mood. Rabbitholes are sneaky. 

“Oh, a ghost Prom cause that doesn’t sound like the title to a horror movie,” - Jay. He’s killing (pffft accident, I swear) it this episode. Damn it google docs, I DON’T NEED THE FUCKING IN. Maybe I should just risk tumblr and its poor saves again. 

Lol Isaac getting Alberta to ask how Hamilton died. Apparently multiple times. 

Hetty is 100% down to be Isaac’s wingEwardian. I hope she actually is Edwardian and I did not fuck that up.WingVictorian just sounds weird. 

Ooof. No. 

I like how the other ghosts were drawing a hard line at no mean pranks (too bad they had no context so it comes across cruel anyway). Also love the fact that Pete (hey I got it!) is nowhere to be seen. 

And he is so confused. Also love how the other ghosts are immediately wtf? And are like “Stephanie no” once they have the context and immediately go to Sam to apologize. 

Lol at Trevor admitting he hadn’t gotten it. 

“Trying to defend you Sam, not making it easy,” - Pete. 

OMG, omg. I just realized Sam’s reaction to Trevor’s dating profile in Jay’s Sister is a lot better (worse?) with this context.  

Good try, ghosts. Kinda making it sound like you planned the whole thing out here. All you did was call Stephanie on her bluff about the “no one allowed at prom” thing. 

Alberta lol. 

“How are we even related?” - Hetty. :D

“Sucked off at prom? I suppose anything’s possible,” - Hetty. I’m laughing. My humour died at twelve and is now a ghost. I’m laughing. 

AWW JAY WENT AND FOUND A CORSAGE AND DRESSED UP TO SURPRISE SAM!

[monster-or-man]

“Only I know how to kill me~!” Yin’s (Chaos’?) voices chuckled, then went dead silent. Then the haunting hum of a black hole faintly sang its tune in the background. A warning perhaps? But for who? It didn’t sound like it was directed at Achim.

“I happen to like mortals far better. Most of the time.”

The god’s voices now sounded stern, yet not entirely like he was fully mentally there. And it wasn’t long before a pair of skeletal hands appeared from behind the mad scientist to squish his cheeks together. Cold, dead hands as black as the night sky over a bustling city. Tipped with claws perfect for rending flesh if the immortal so chose to.

“You happen to be a thing that we don’t like at all. Rule breaker. Nasty imbalance your other self caused. Will not hesitate to punish if you do the same, Achim.” The god began to slowly squeeze. Only enough to eventually cause pain. But the want to make his head pop was clearly there. “I recommend you leave poor Dennis well alone, by the way. If you know what’s good for you.” ~ Kaiju-crimson-storyandask

The scientist tried his hardest to not give the being any kind of reaction. He has felt worse pain at the hands of his experiment.

"Ye really think I am scared of death like ye are?" He gave a laugh. Oh how amusing. "Once I am gone, there will be another to continue on my path. To carry the torch as it were. Fate has a cruel sense of humour." His spines started to grow. While he was unsure of if they would do anything, it was nice to have the extra protection.

"I will not kneel to yer demands."

@kaiju-crimson-storyandask

[drivingsideways]

Hey talk to me about your top three favourite kdrama women. What makes them special? What's a fic you would like to write about any one of them?

Mystery anon! :D What a lovely ask. 

I’m going to cheat a bit and divide my answer into characters I loved a lot, but do not want to write fic about, because I think the canon gives me what I need; and characters that I loved a lot but NEED TO BE RESCUED ZOMG.  (My fic writing impulses are 50% spite and 50% fix-it )

Caveat being that I’ve still watched only maybe a dozen kdramas, so I’m pretty limited in my knowledge!

Characters that I love a lot, but have very zero fic impulses toward:

Han Yeo-jin from Stranger/Secret Forest: What a delight! What an iconique character! Is there anyone like her? NO. LSY-nim gives us a delightfully complex character, and Bae Doona knocks it out of the park in every single scene, so I’m just happy to be along for the ride. I think what makes Yeo-jin special for me is the intrinsic place of empathy that she operates from.  I think “righteous” is a word that often comes with negative connotations (self-righteous, for eg), but I do think she’s one of the most righteous-in-the-good-way characters I’ve watched in kdrama or any drama. I’m tired of stories that portray goodness as “boring” , as unworthy of narrative breadth or depth, and I love that Han Yeo-jin comes to us like a breath of fresh air in our particular dystopian narratives hellscape. She’s good, but never naive. She’s righteous but never cruel in her moral certainties.  I think that LSY nim, in the second season especially, gave Yeo-jin the kind of arc that character deserved when she’s forced to really dig deep into herself to figure out how she’s going to live in the world in the face of a deeply cutting, deeply personal disillusionment, and I’m really hoping for an S3 to see how that plays out further. 

Goo Hae-ryung from Rookie Historian: Ok, I will admit this may be rose tinted glasses view due to this show being my gateway drug into kdrama, but c’mon! She’s a reader! and a Thinker! And loves her wine! She’s plucky! She’s cute! She’s got a wry sense of humour! She’s got principles! She’s got a solid common sense to her that somehow doesn’t get in the way of her dreaming BIG! Oh dear, doesn’t she sound like the Mary-est of Mary Sues? Good for her.gif,  I say! Anyways, Shin Se-kyung is unutterably charming in this (AS IN EVERY SHOW OMG GIRL) and I just have a huge fondness for free-spirited heroines who get to tramp through the narrative changing the world as they do! 

Lee Ji-an from My Ahjussi: I’ve never had my heart broken more OR restored by any single character. IU is *phenomenal * in this, I think she really stepped up to what the script demanded from her. Ji-an’s weariness, her fear and vulnerability, her prickliness, her anger and her bitterness, and how, despite everything, she fights : GOD. Just. Again, what I love about the writing in this show is that it’s deeply empathetic without being cloyingly sentimental. I think a less, hmm, imaginative writer/PD might have focused on the Lee Ji-an the victim, and while the show definitely tells you in no uncertain terms that she is one,  of both circumstances and a cruel society, I think it refuses to take away her agency over her own life.(Lee Ji-an when we meet her is too busy hanging onto life by tooth and claw to indulge in self-pity, but we also see the toll it takes on her not to be able to say “this is too heavy a burden for me to carry myself and it isn’t my fault”; the show I think approaches Dong-hoon from the opposite side- his emotional isolation is partly a result of his own choices, but he doesn’t see it yet, and so his journey is also about letting people in and sharing the burden, but also recovering his own agency over his life. It’s an interestingly gender-bent arc, which is one of the things I love about this show. )

Ok, can I please add one more?

Hwang Han-joo from Melo is my Nature: She just felt SO real to me. She’s someone who doesn’t have the spectacular brilliance of either Jin-joo or Eun-jung, and struggles with accepting her limitations but not allowing herself to be defeated by them? I love her struggles as a mother, as a working woman in a sexist industry, a woman who’s perhaps having to rethink and reimagine what she wants from romance. I love that she’s a little silly, a lot kind, and an optimist, and just. I just think she’s the bravest of the three, tbh, and I LOVE HER AND I WOULD WATCH A SPIN OFF ABOUT JUST HER (i shouldn’t have faves among the three i know, BUT I DO, IT’S HER, IT’S HER.)

Ok! On to the next section! And I’m going to cheat again because I can’t stop at three. SORRY. NOT SORRY. 

Characters I love and SHOULD write fic for if I weren’t such a tired and lazy bunny:  

Song Sa-hui from Rookie Historian: Oh, girl, girl, GIRL. I love how she fights to snatch her freedom from the jaws of the patriarchy. I love that she unapologetically centers herself while doing that, because she knows that nobody else will.  I love that she’s prickly and calculating. I love that she’s smart and knowledgeable. I am SO HAPPY that she got to carve out a little bit of freedom for herself, even if it also is exile to some degree. She *should * be Emperor Jin’s Prime Minister and steering the ship of state, while also carrying on a tumultous affair with Queen Min Woo-hee, while ALSO commiserating with Emperor Jin about his boyfriend Historian Min Woo-won’s regrettable tendency towards Principles (TM) and masochism-but-not-in-the-fun-way. (This takes up much of his time which is why Song Sa-hui is running the country, of course. It works out well for all concerned, well, except her dad, of course.)

Song Ga-gyeong from Search:WWW: What’s NOT to love about our brilliant, beautiful, emotionally tortured gay icon? Nothing, absolutely nothing. I loved how the show allowed her to be flawed and make bad decisions, and then allowed her to make better decisions and regain control of her life. What I do need to do, of course, is see the CANON LOVE STORY between her and Cha Hyeon through to the end. It must, of course, include at least one baseball game, a lot of tequila and messy beach kisses. 

Oh Ji-hwa from Beyond Evil: Oh boy, this year’s runaway hit cleared the extremely low bar for standard crime/ thriller shows by leaving more than one of its female characters breathing and with all limbs intact, and got called feminist for it BUT it didn’t do justice to any of them in any meaningful way and that never hurt more than in the way they sidelined Kim Shin-rok’s talent by not giving Oh Ji-hwa anything much to do. She’s a tough as nails cop, a loving sister, a devoted but unsentimental friend-and by rights SHOULD HAVE BEEN THE HEROINE OF THIS SHOW. My secret fic fantasy is to rewrite the show entirely by making her , and the two other female characters in non-antagonist roles- Yoo Jae-yi and Im Sun-nyeo- as the central characters, as they investigate a serial killer who targets women.  It’s the only acceptable version of this done-to-death (ha!) genre, I have no idea what the Baeksang jury and tumblr fandom is smoking when they hype the show so much, I want none of it. 

Jung Sun-ah from The Devil Judge: I love her rage, her spite, her passionate defense of women, her style, her sexiness, her rage, her rage, her brilliance, her tenaciousness, her smartness, her clothes, her refusal to hate herself for everything she is and chooses to be, her ambition, her comfort wielding power, her EVERYTHING. Dead, her? NOT IF I HAVE ANYTHING TO SAY ABOUT IT. Here’s what *really * happened at the end of canon- she gets out of the building by planting that lady-like but still deadly gun against Kang Yo-han’s temple and making him lead her through his own “secret escape route” or whatever the fuck it was the show wanted us to believe. From there on out, it’s all sunshine and beaches, and scheming and waiting for the right moment to strike again-though of course, this time around, she also has to reckon with vigilant, tenacious cop Soo-hyun -another character who REALLY didn’t die for manpain reasons and had the good sense to leave her gay best friend to follow his psychopath boyfriend to Switzerland or wherever it is that star crossed lovers in kdrama land meet up on the regs these days- anyways, Soo-hyun and her are in this catch-me-if-you-can epic transnational honest and cute cop-and-beautiful sexy villain chase and yes, they WILL kiss (and more) AND IT WILL BE GLORIOUS. 

*whew *

Thanks for coming to my TEDTalk.