#hmmm 🧐

[northern-embrace]

Hmmm so Sansa fell wildly in love with Waymar Royce, who looks like a dark haired warrior Northern-man type (yeah yeah he’s from the Vale— Royce house words “We Remember”, Ned Stark who was fostered in Vale) and heading to the Wall.

Then she grows up a little, kinda gets shiny eyed over golden haired princes like Joffrey and romantic figures like Loras Tyrell. But then she learns they’re false.

And surprisingly for how he was introduced as an arrogant lordling, Waymar died challenging an Other even in a hopeless situation and becomes heroic.

Waymar’s a third son— Sansa chooses love first over power/status. She doesn’t actually think much about being queen unless it’s having a king and their babies. She doesn’t think of being a queen to rule over people, she was never power hungry— she wants to be loved.

Then let’s look at Jon. Don’t tell me you don’t think that boy is harboring secret dreams of having a lady love and living in Winterfell with his future children. (Hah he wants legitimate children of course he does. He’ll father no bastards. He definitely would NOT get that from Ygritte.)

He daydreams about picturing this with Ygritte, then gets horribly reminded of how violent Ygritte can be. Then later, he finds Val attractive but it’s also hilarious how he can’t help but randomly compare her to a willowy creature brushing her hair in a tower.

(Remember this boy was hating on the royal Lannister kids with Robb the Stark Heir, but somehow casually inserts that Sansa looked radiant.)

Jon and Sansa have romantic ideals in their childhood home, before they’re forced to leave it behind and then later on they keep dreaming of returning to Winterfell.

[gurokiitty]

Three words here me out:

Strade

Wedding

Angst

a/n: i'm listening, anon !! 👂 👂 👂 ren is here too becoz why not

JUST THE THREE OF US

{ strade x ren hana x f! reader }

word count: 1.4k

warnings/tags: angst, forced "marriage", physical and psychological abuse, tongue mutilation, blood, forced intimacy (kissing), may be kinda ooc for strade?

As the morning dawned, a single ray of light sneaked through the boarded-up window, casting a thin strip of illumination across the dusty floor. It travelled slowly, like a silent, ethereal intruder in the otherwise shadowed space. You watched it crawl up to your legs, highlighting the bruises and scars marking your skin, as well as the bandages wrapped around your foot— a mocking beacon of faint hope in the dim room.

Beside you, Ren sat stiffly. His usual poise was marred by anxiety, evident by the way his ears flattened against his head each time his gaze darted to the heavy door.

Soon, the sound of footsteps approached and the door creaked open. Strade entered with a twisted smile, holding two garments. For you, a faded white dress— obviously a thrift store find— yet it held a semblance of what could have been a bride’s traditional attire. For Ren, one of Strade's old suits, dusty and unworn.

"Time to get ready," he announced, his voice echoing slightly in the cramped space. "Don’t take too long. We wouldn’t want to keep the big day waiting." His smile widened as he tossed the garments onto the bed, pausing briefly at the doorway to give one last look before turning to leave.

As the door clicked shut behind him, you exchanged a brief, fraught glance with Ren, his eyes mirroring your turmoil. The preparations were mechanical; the simple acts of bathing and dressing became an attempt to maintain a shred of normalcy.

In the small bathroom, you sat in the tub and cleaned yourself carefully below the neck. Each stroke on your skin felt like an attempt to erase the gruelling memories of the past days. The water ran pink, mingling dust and sweat with blood— a stark reminder of the reality you couldn't completely wash away.

The ordeal felt more surreal as you dried yourself and slipped the dress over your head. It hung loose on your frame, the soft material grazing your skin in unfamiliar, almost comforting touches. You looked into the fogged mirror, wiping away the condensation to see yourself. Your reflection was simple yet transformative, and for a fleeting moment, you recognized a shadow of the person you once were.

Stepping back into the room, you noticed Ren standing before a full-length mirror, smoothing his hair. He turned his head slightly as you approached, his suit hanging loosely on his frame. The mismatched fit would have been almost comical if not for the gravity of the situation. You caught his eye through the mirror and his ears perked up slightly.

His gaze lingered before he forced a smile and turned to adjust the collar of his ill-fitting suit. "It doesn't quite feel like a celebration, does it?"

You approached him slowly, the fabric of the white dress whispering against the floor. "No, but we'll get through this. Just like we've gotten through everything else." You replied, your voice steadier than you felt.

"I know we will. It's just..." His voice trailed off as he met your eyes in the mirror again, searching for an assurance neither of you could truly provide.

You reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder, feeling the coarse fabric under your fingertips. "We'll find a way out. Together." It was a promise, a thin thread of hope you both clung to, even as doubt whispered in the back of your minds.

The ceremony that awaited you was nothing short of a macabre performance, orchestrated by Strade for his twisted enjoyment. As you descended the stairs, the ceremonial charade Strade had set up in the living room revealed itself. A crude altar stood at the end, draped in an old tablecloth and surrounded by a few flickering candles.

Strade's presence, polished yet sinister in a crisp, red suit, only heightened the surrealism of the moment. His hair was neatly styled, transforming him into a figure vastly different from the one you knew. Yet, as the candlelight danced across his face, it illuminated his familiar smile while he puffed on a cigar; the smoke curling around him like a visible sneer.

"You two clean up nice," he mused, a sinister melody in his voice. "My beautiful bride and my handsome groom, all dolled up for our big day." His smirk widened as he exhaled, the cigar's scent mingling with the stale air.

Then, Strade stepped forward, positioning himself by the makeshift altar. "Let’s begin, shall we?" He said, taking the cigar between his fingers and clearing his throat.

“Während manche sagen, dass es zwei braucht, um eine Ehe zu schließen, / While some say it takes two to make a marriage,” he began, "Wir drei sind ein Leben lang verbunden. / The three of us are bound together for a lifetime."

His smile twisted further as he concluded in a chilling tone, "In life and death, our fates are forever intertwined."

As you stood there, facing Strade in his unnervingly handsome guise, a mixture of dread and despair settled heavily in your stomach. His eyes, sharp and calculating, skimmed over you and Ren, taking in every detail of your forced readiness.

“Now let's get to the good part, huh?” his voice dropped to a husky whisper as he closed the distance between you; his movements poised yet predatory. He reached out suddenly, gripping your chin with a firmness that made your heart skip.

“A little token to commemorate our day,” he murmured before his lips pressed briefly against yours. His touch was cold, his fingers clamping your jaw as he pulled away.

Before you could react, Strade's hand moved to your mouth, prying it open, his fingers pressing against your lips. Dread washed over you as he withdrew a small knife from his suit pocket. The sheen of the blade caught the flickering candlelight as he unsheathed it, his eyes never leaving yours. You could feel Ren's gaze burning into you, a silent plea for mercy mirrored in his expression.

Strade's grip on your chin tightened as he brought the blade closer to your trembling lips, positioning it at the center of your tongue. Without hesitation, he made a long, deliberate cut down the median sulcus, the cold steel slicing through the soft flesh. Pain seared through you as blood began to pool in your mouth, spilling down your chin in thick rivulets, and staining the white of your dress.

You could hear Ren's sharp intake of breath, his own fate mirrored in the cruel twist of Strade's lips. The room seemed to spin, the weight of your shared agony pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket.

Strade then turned to Ren, who had watched the ordeal with horror etched deeply into his features. Ren’s attempts to protest were muffled by Strade’s swift and brutal actions, repeating the gruesome act. The immediate flow of blood now tied your pains together in the most visceral way possible.

With a monstrous grin, he forced you and Ren to face each other, pushing you two into a proximity that felt both intrusive and intimate. "Now, kiss," he commanded, his voice low.

You reached up, your hands trembling as they framed Ren's face, your thumbs brushing against his cheeks. You could feel his muscles tense under your touch.

Reluctantly, painfully, you leaned towards him, the coppery taste of blood mingling as your lips met. The kiss was soft at first, almost hesitant, but you pressed closer and your wounded tongues touched. The pain sparked again, more intensely, as you both stifled a groan. Blood mixed with saliva, creating a bond that was as real as it was enforced, painting your lips and trickling down in a slow, warm drip that met the front of your dress.

You could feel Ren's breath hitch, his hands coming up to rest hesitantly on your hips, his touch light, as if afraid to cause more pain— or perhaps more connection. The kiss deepened slightly, not out of desire but out of a desperate need to find solace in your shared suffering.

“This is what binds us together,” Strade remarked, “Not just some vows or rings, but blood, pain, and fear. You two are mine, in every way that counts.”

Finally, you pulled away, and the string of blood that had connected you broke, leaving only a sticky residue on your lips.

[prythianpages]

LOLLLL bibble playing pranks on cassian, teaming up with azs shadows

Bibble with Cas:

Bibble with Az’s shadows:

Just imagine Az’s shadows twirling with Bibble here

[sincericida]

ANDREW GARFIELD and FLORENCE PUGH

playing "Yay or Nay" in new video for the press of "We Live In Time".

(X)

[spade-riddles]

🃏| There will be no further explanation. Just reputation.

reputation will be announced end of year for a 2024 release in the first months.

Look deeper. There is more to this story than the meets the common eye.

It is not over until the Queen of Hearts reclaims all she had lost.

Even mad hatters must fall.

[tired-smartass]

Just saw a picture of the gateway arch.

what the actual fuck? How?

When I was reading the book I thought it was more like

The river going through the arc.

[lunainfortuna]

i spilled the tea 😝

[daisiesonafield-blog]

🚨 Love On Tour documentary rumor 🚨

Allegedly airing on Channel 5 on Wed, December 27th at 9pm BST

[violetmuses]

Don't Look Back Part 2?! 👀

@adoresmiles @amethyst-loves-bucky 🏷

[pinkpogiclub]

im gonna start a rumor that pogi attacked just to distract lotto and therefore have his own bff win the race

[howdaretrashships]

There’s a couple hours of missing time in ep 38. It starts with light coming into the dungeon when LLH escapes, and it’s light out as he’s sneaking around.

There’s light coming into JLQ’s quarters behind DFS while she taunts him and LLH comes to rescue him.

Then we see LLH carrying DFS piggy back and it’s dark out. I’m taking this to mean that the previous scene takes place around sunset. That gives time for LLH to unlock the chains, pull him out of the pool, and start trying to escape.

In the newlywed room DFS rebuilds his meridians - with help - and the very next scene is drinking wine, reminiscing about the moon. Considering DFS says this is a more severe injury than from the battle at the East Sea, they still need to clean up and change clothes, we can assume a large chunk of time is spent here.

Now the moon is shown above the trees but it’s hard to tell with the window so small whether it’s still rising or at peak. Assuming it’s at peak, let’s say the scene takes place at midnight. Even if the moon has started to go down, it’s still high above the trees, so midnight is still close enough of a guess.

Immediately after this, DFS notices the false wall where his sword and other treasures are hidden, and LLH suggests there’s more to be found and they search further. They start searching, the outside of the room is shown with night turning to day, and then they find the mechanism for the hidden room with the instructions on how to get rid of the karmic bug.

Considering how smart and detail oriented they both are, what the hell were y’all doing for those few hours?

[starshapedoasis]

[prythianpages]

I want to write this trope with Rhys & his sister 😭

[sincericida]

ANDREW GARFIELD and FLORENCE PUGH

playing "Yay or Nay" in new video for the press of "We Live In Time".

[myyxo]

What's dis look ? 🧐

[x-heesy]

😂

(tHrOwAwAy)

YeAh

I bE aT tHe WrOnG pLaCe

At ThE wRoNg TiMe, YeAh

AyE, yEaH, aYe

I bE aT tHe WrOnG pLaCe

At ThE wRoNg TiMe, YuH

yUh, AyE

1-7

i Be At ThE wRoNg PlAcE

aT tHe WrOnG tImE

aLl ThE tImE, oLiVe ViNe

KeEp A dEvIl On ThE sIdE

i Be At ThE wRoNg PlAcE

aT tHe WrOnG tImE

aLl ThE tImE aNd It’S fInE

sEe My DeAtH a HoMiCiDe (YuH, yUh)

I bE aT tHe WrOnG pLaCe

At ThE wRoNg TiMe

AlL tHe TiMe, InNeR sPiNe

HoLdIn‘ MeTaL iNtErTwInEd

I bE aT tHe WrOnG pLaCe

At ThE wRoNg TiMe

Go AnD dIe, ShOwIn‘ FiRe

FuCkInG mEnTaL oN tHe RiSe

AyE, tRiPlE sPlIt

In ThE sTiCkS wItH mY bItCh

PsYcHeDeLiC dOuBlE dIp

DoUbLe DeAtH, eGo SlIp; SlIt

HeAvY wHeN i GeT oN tHe MaChEtE

lEt It FiX, cUt It StEaDy

YeAh, AlReAdY tHeY rEgReTtInG i ExIsT (yUh, YuH, yUh, YuH)

dOuBlE tHe CaSh, DoUbLe ThE hItS

dOiN‘ tHe DaSh, DrOpPiN‘ tHe ViS

sTaTiC aTtAcHeD, aLl ThAt I sPiT

fUcK iN tHe BaCk, FuCk It AgAiN

bRiNg HeR tO fAtE, bRiNg HeR tHe K

cRaCkIn‘ A fLaSk, GeTtIn‘ EvIcTeD

i’M iN yO‘ fAcE, wHaT dO yOu SaY? (tHrOwAwAy)

FoRgEt ThE fAcTs, FoRgEt YoUr KiN

aYe

I bEeN rUnNiN‘ hItS sInCe DaY oNe

RaY gUn

RiPpIn‘ EvErY cLiQuE tHaT dOnE sAy NoNe

YuH, yUh

PsYcHoPaThIc DiCk I lEfT tHe VeYrOn

TaKe OnE

i DeMaNdEd ShIt ThAt ThEy AiN’t MaDe Of

AyE

i DeMaNd It ShIfTeD wItH tHe BrEeZe

GeT tHe ChEmIcAlS eDiBlE

i BeEn SpInNiN‘ ‚rOuNd ThE tReEs

MeTaMoRpH, tHeN dEcAy

I rEpLiCaTe ThE dAtA kEyS

fRoM tHe SkY tO tHe GrOuNd

I gEt ArOuNd WhEn ThEy AiN’t SeE (tHeY aIn’T sEe ShIt)

DeViL, a SyStEm

I’mA dIe SaDiStIc (CuTtInG mY wRiStS)

tRaUmAtIsEd, He WiTnEsSeD

nOw He FiNd It DiFfErEnT (nUmB, i ThRoW fIsTs)

IlL oF mInD, tHe ViCe HiT

kIlLiNg TiMe To SpItE sHiT (i DoN’t ExIsT)

yOu’Ll Be FiNe, DoN’t LiKe It

YoU’lL bE fInE, dOn’T lIkE sHiT

i Be At ThE wRoNg PlAcE

aT tHe WrOnG tImE

aLl ThE tImE, oLiVe ViNe

KeEp A dEvIl On ThE sIdE (yUh!)

I bE aT tHe WrOnG pLaCe

At ThE wRoNg TiMe

AlL tHe TiMe AnD iT’s FiNe

SeE mY dEaTh A hOmIcIdE (yEaH)

i Be At ThE wRoNg PlAcE

aT tHe WrOnG tImE

aLl ThE tImE, iNnEr SpInE

hOlDiN‘ mEtAl InTeRtWiNeD (yAh)

I bE aT tHe WrOnG pLaCe

At ThE wRoNg TiMe

Go AnD dIe, ShOwIn‘ FiRe

FuCkInG mEnTaL oN tHe RiSe, AyE

yEaH, i AiN’t GoNnA sToP

‚tIl I’m GoAtEd LiKe GuTs

YoU oVeRbLoAtEd, HoPe It LoAdEd

‚CaUsE mY cOaL ‚bOuT tO bUsT

tHe FiRe SeEk A pRoPhEcY

i’Ll DiE wHeN i PeAk

DiViDeD sTrEeTs, EnTiTlEd BeAsTs

GeT cUt DoWn To DuSt

YoU kNoW

tHeY aIn’T nEvEr GoNnA sEe It

LiKe Me, LiKeLy

ThEy AiN’t NeVeR gOnNa Be WhAt

I bE, hIgHkEy

StAcKiN‘ tHrOaTs, CoMaToSe

AlL tHe RoAdS i ExPoSe

LiTtLe RaCkS, lItTlE rAtS

sNoRt ‚Em Up, DrOp ‚Em LoW

Wrong Place by Faceless 1-7 @len0r 😂💀