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[matthewkniesys]

🫧

if he had been with me 🥲

send me a 🫧 and the book you are currently reading or last finished and i’ll make you a moodboard based on it

[lewypool]

💌 Send this to the twelve nicest people you know or who seem to have a good heart and if you get five back you must be pretty awesome. 💌❤️🤍

We're gonna send this back and forth like pingpong 😂❤️

[onsunnyside]

9 for the music asks? 👉👈 (i'm always looking for music recs! 🥰)

omg i'll give you a bunch bestie !!

9. A song that makes you happy

🎶 music asks

[whichcouldmeanothing]

You talk about this stuff a lot? It comes up.

HACKS 3x06 "Power Play"

[archive-folder]

Francesca Bridgerton + outfits

Bridgerton Season 3 Episode 1-4 (Part I)

[abigaillazaar]

AMANDA YOUNG & LYNN DENLON Saw III (2006), dir. Darren Lynn Bousman

[glindalphaba]

HANNAH DODD as FRANCESCA BRIDGERTON BRIDGERTON — S3E8: Into the Light

[onsunnyside]

omg I love this, the exchange through the window and then the whole reveal !! I know he’s bad 😖 but he said “pretty” !!!!!!

Hi Hannah!💕 How about "Beyond the Light We See" with Steve Rogers, please?

BEYOND THE LIGHT WE SEE

fake fic title drabbles

summary: after the curtains are drawn and the lights are off, how well do any of us know our neighbours?

pairing: mafia enforcer!steve rogers x artist!female reader

warnings: swearing, mention of: violence, blood, murder, knives, and alcohol.

a/n: i don't know where this came from.

excerpt:

The windows of your twenty-second floor apartment don't offer stunning views of the bustling city that surrounds you. Instead they tease a glimpse into the lives of those who reside in the apartment building opposite yours.

However, the boring truth is that all of the apartments within your view - except one, almost never open their curtains, keeping their lives a complete mystery.

It was pure luck that the one apartment exempt from that fact happened to be perfectly level with your own.

With no one else to spy on, it didn't take long for you to become accustomed to the man who occupied it.

Slightly older than you, he was always waking up early and returning home late. He watched television as rarely as he wore a shirt - not that you're complaining, and his vinyl collection was extensive.

And almost every night he sat in the armchair facing his floor-to-ceiling windows, sipping from a glass filled with some type of alcohol.

You first bore witness to this routine of his about a week after you moved in. You had been sitting on the living room floor, right beside your own floor-to-ceiling windows, arranging dried flowers.

With your usual curiosity, you had glanced up and out the window, only to meet his gaze as he sat in his chair that directly faced your apartment.

Cool and collected, the man had nodded and slightly extended his glass out to you before taking a sip.

Smiling bashfully in return, you had quickly averted your eyes back to your dried flowers.

The night continued on with you sneaking peeks at the man while his gaze never strayed from you - or so it felt like.

Once you had casted your flower arrangement in resin some hours later, you called it a night and left him staring into your dark apartment.

His routine never changed in the nights that followed, despite your well-lit apartment almost always glaring back at him.

Your curtains never closed.

Three night after that first interaction, your resin had finally finished setting and you hesitated for only a moment before holding it up under the bright light of your floor lamp, displaying your latest art piece for the man.

It was much nicer up close of course, but he could get the general gist of it.

The man had smirked before mouthing one word - “Pretty”.

You'll never forget how much the compliment warmed you.

After that, your nights fell into routine with his. It wasn't something you intended, but rather a natural occurrence. He drank, you created. He watched, you didn't mind.

Then there were the Friday nights.

On Friday nights he doesn't follow his usual routine. Instead, he draws thick curtains over his windows, sending you a wink if he catches your curious stare.

You know it's silly to be intrigued by his act of privacy. If anything you should be surprised those curtains don't close more often to keep out your intruding gaze after all these months.

Hey, he watches me as much as I watch him.

Yawning, you stretch up and spare a glance out the window, seeing nothing but a sea of curtains.

It's just ticked over from Friday to Saturday, and your aching back agrees that it's time for bed.

Rising up off the floor, you pad around the apartment, turning off all the lights until there's only the faint glow coming from your bedroom.

You're crossing your living room when light suddenly floods in.

Searching for the source, you look back out your windows and this time see that a curtain at his apartment has been pulled open.

He's up late.

That's when a man you don't recognise slams into the window of the apartment across from yours. The stranger pounds on the glass, yelling words you can't hear.

Fear trickles into your body at the sight, and you take an uncertain step forward just as a hand lands on top of the stranger's head.

The hand closes around the stranger's hair and shoves his head into the window before tilting it back, exposing the stranger's throat to the glinting knife that cuts it.

Your mouth falls open, eyes watering with terror as blood splatters across the glass.

The stranger crumbles to the floor, dead.

When your gaze breaks away from the lifeless body in disbelief, it lands on him.

Running to your bedroom, you slam the door shut and flick off the light, as if the darkness can protect you from the horror that has just transpired.

He didn't see me, he didn't see me.

Pressing yourself into the far corner of your room, you sink down to the floor.

Your whole body starts shaking violently, trying to process what you saw.

He just... fucking killed a man.

He killed him.

Minutes or hours may have passed without you moving an inch, but eventually the shock subsides enough for you to form one clear thought.

I need to call the police.

Just as that thought solidifies, you hear the unmistakable sound of your apartment door shutting.

Your locked apartment door.

No. No, no, no, no, no -

Scampering across the floor, you crawl underneath your bed.

Where's my phone? Where did -

It's with a sickening twist of your stomach that you recall leaving it on the kitchen bench.

Heavy footsteps echo throughout your quiet apartment, gradually growing louder as the intruder gets closer and closer to your room.

Covering your mouth with both hands, you send a prayer to anyone willing to listen.

You hear the handle being twisted before the bedroom door pushes open and the light is turned on.

“Angel,” A deep, rough voice calls out softly. “Don’t be scared.”

The smirk evident in the man's voice sends a shiver of dread down your spine.

It’s just a bad dream. This is all a bad dream.

Black leather shoes come to a stop inches from your face.

Sliding yourself as far backward as you can, you watch as two pant covered knees appear next, followed by two large tattooed hands marred with blood.

Finally, his face lowers until two dark eyes meet yours.

“Are you going to come out angel?” He asks slowly, “Or am I gonna have to come and get you?”

[justbeingayhere]

Lesbian Bridgerton Esque Books

{Don’t Want You Like a Best Friend is my favorite}

[stevenrogered]

Without such an audience, I should like to share with you three the true story of my muddy boots. Here is what truly happened.

A suspicious streak of mud found its way into our home. And there we were, myself, the servants, even my mother, chasing this mysterious mud through the house. Even as servants tried to clean it, more spots appeared, as if from a phantom. As I reached the end of my rope, I finally looked down to discover the phantom was, in fact, me. Chasing the mud with my own boots.

[ell0ra-br3kk3r]

ellora. if speak now (tv) is coming out i will go crazy. literally some of my fave taylor songs are from speak now. also i love u <3

i sear i will go insane like- i love that album so so much! we can die together

love you more🩶

[matthewkniesys]

🍄 HI CLAIRE

HI HANNAH

also sorry this took so long<3

send me a 🍄 and tell me a little about yourself (unless we’re moots) and i’ll make you a moodboard

[lewypool]

It's getting violent again kshssgaf

[divineandmajesticinone]

BRIDGERTON (2020-) I 3.01 & 3.04

[hauntedfictionland]

Everyone who's disappointed or mad about changing Francesca's love story of Michael to a woman's version, argues that the show—writers shouldn't have changed the books so drastically. What they don't know is that the show ALWAYS has drastically changed the story and lines in every season compared to the books. And trust me they've changed it for the better. Kate and Anthony in the books got caught sucking the venom out of Kate's chest and forced to marry and then, did they have their enemies to lovers. Now tell me, which version did you like more.

Also, I agree Francesca may have loved John in the books truly and madly, but that's not the case in the show and they've changed the relationship accordingly. She sees him as a companion, not a partner. She feels peace with him, not butterflies. She feels he really understands her, and those are the sole purposes of wanting to marry him. Now when she meets Michaela, her breathing stops, she feels the swooning and butterflies her mother always talked about and wishes for her to feel the way Violet felt with Edmund. And the thing is, by the interaction, Michaela seems an extrovert and far from quietness. And yet Francesca still fell in love with her, because in love, as shown in Bridgerton, you love them not because it benefits you, but because your heart calls for their soul, whatever that may be.

[archive-folder]