#dr strand

[wraithee]

Remember when Dr Richard Strand said:

“Isn't there enough wonder and beauty in the world without having to invent magical mythical creatures and spirits to enhance it?”

[remainsteddie]

I hate Richard Strand so much condescending little man with his dumb dumb pretty voice I want to kiss him right on the mouth

[binerdydisaster]

I'm four episodes into The Black Tapes but if Alex and Stand don't end up together I'm going to be so upset. I'm already shipping them

[whatrudoingbree]

ALEX: What’s the story?

STRAND: Before the time of creation, Lucifer was the angel of song, of music. Lucifer led a revolt against God and lost. You’re familiar with this mythology.

ALEX: I’m with you so far.

STRAND: So God banished Lucifer to hell. But on his way out of heaven, Lucifer, now referred to as Satan in this particular gospel, created some kind of musical back door as he fell into the inferno. Something sonic that would allow Satan and his minions back into the world without God knowing. This mysterious note is apparently a sound that God can’t hear. The Unsound.

[bassia-bassensis]

I am pretty sure the fandom is dead but anyone else favourite character is nick?

[it-will-choke-on-me]

Me most of the time when listening to The Black Tapes at night: *about to jump clear out of my damn skin*

Me whenever Dr Strand talks: “Smart man keep me safe.”

[stickmeinhornyjail]

Richard Strand is the type of man that would grow a beard thinking that it would make him less approachable and be absolutely bewildered and/or oblivious that people think it makes him sexier.

[sickromancer]

So I am giving Black Tapes another listen, because I need something to listen to that's safe and easy for me. And I must admit, hot damn am I enjoying dr. Strand! He must be the most tightly wound fictional character I have met in years. So controlled,so competent. And I am loving his laugh - really just nothing more than a barely audible amused breath, as he just can't allow himself to stray further from the perfect cool control than that. And yesss, I do love an intellectual. A strict, highly disciplined one.

Control. Discipline. Intellectual superiority. Pride. Distance. Suit. SUIT!! Fierce self reliance that betrays an air of loneliness. A wry smile. A thoughtful wrinkle between the brows.

All in all, THIS MAN NEEDS TO BE WRECKED. WITH A COLD. A VERY BAD ONE. One that is completely out of his control. One that takes the edge off his keen mind and blunts his senses, one that causes his body to make all sorts of distasteful sounds, like gurgling sniffles and thick bubbling blows and harsh, shuddering sneezes, and he can do nothing to control them. One that turns his deep voice into a pitifully thick nasal, his cool eyes puffy and watery and ruins his sharp, handsome features with a red, swollen nose that keeps dripping and oozing nasty slime, and bursting with heavy, spraying, all kinds of unsanitary sneezes.

And when his temperature climbs and the rattling cough comes, he just really wishes there was someone around to take care of him, and hell perhaps take a bit pity on him too while he shivers under a blanket on the sofa, too ill to even watch Netflix for more than five or ten minutes at time before needing to take a nap in his sickly cocoon lined with heavily used tissues.

Not that he really needed anyone, of course. What a ridiculous idea. Just a cold. Probably. Just a very bad one. But it might... be a bit comforting, if someone sat there with a worried frown - needlessly worried, it's just a cold, probably - and. Well. Cared. Made a him cup of tea he would be too tired and too busy sneezing and coughing to finish. Held him a bit. Kissed his hair and whispered gentle words too embarrassing to think of. Someone he could assure that it's ok, just a cold, dont worry, but who would still worry a bit.