Tag: honestly

herhmione:

literally one of my favorite romance tropes of all time is character a is a really notorious gang leader/well known feared ruler of some kind etc and no one dares cross them or talk back to them etc because they won’t make it out alive but character b can literally get away with saying whatever they want and everyone knows it’s because they have character a wrapped around their finger and character a is gentle with character b and everyone wouldn’t dare laying a finger on character b because then character a would literally chop their head off

Erik is to his Mask as Others are to their Glasses

do-you-feel-the-feels-i-feel:

  • Sometimes he freaks out because he can’t find it, only to realize it’s on his face.
  • He’s so used to wearing it that he doesn’t realize its still on when he bathes until a river of water is falling in front of his eyes.
  • He wakes up in the morning confused because what he can see from his periphery without obstruction what is this madness.
  • He goes to adjust it constantly only to realize he isn’t wearing it.
  • He has a case for it, but what’s the point of a bulky case when you have a perfectly good bedside table?
  • When in a pinch, he cleans it with his shirt.
  • God forbid it breaks because “sweet Jesus there goes my one constant, comforting necessity how will I ever live through the two days it takes to get another one”

rykesmeadow:

acowar countdown challenge week 5 | favorite otp: Nesta x Cassian

Cassian’s breathing turned jagged as her eyes flicked to his mouth, as her body came flush with his… He didn’t care. Didn’t give a shit as she rose up on her toes, her mouth nearing his-

Pain exploded between his legs, knocking the breath from his chest as that gods-damned knee of hers indeed found its mark.

Cassian staggered back, swearing viciously. She snorted, looking down at him as he fell on his ass into an armchair, clutching his stomach, trying to reorder his brain-

“You’re all the same,” She said, imperious as the night and cold as the dawn. “Perhaps being an immortal makes you predictable.”

“You,” he gasped out.

A low laugh broke from those lips, which he’d been fully prepared to taste, to devour–

You wake up in Eriks house and have his mask in your hand. You have no clue how or why you go there. What do you do?

phantom-of-the-keurig:

Easy, I immediately place the mask on my own face and complete my dream of becoming the phantom.

I then forcibly kick Erik from his underground home and reclaim it as mine.

I am the Opera Ghost now. I live a happy life locked away in complete solitude and occasionally haunt the good folks of the opera house.