i don't do bad sauce passes
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wallacepolsom
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
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Kiana Khansmith
@theartofmadeline
Love Begins
Cosimo Galluzzi
tannertan36
AnasAbdin
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Misplaced Lens Cap
roma★
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@angelicfoole
# 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒇𝒐𝒐𝒍𝒆 ; an independent, private, highly selective & low activity writing blog for 𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐓 of william shakespeare’s play — 𝗋𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗈 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗃𝗎𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗍. headcanon based, but with various inspirations taken from the 1996 movie by baz luhrmann. written by olivia. please, read my carrd before interacting.
( ☆ ) carrd ( ☆ ) promo ( ☆ ) memes ( ☆ ) ask
Rachel Zegler — The 97th Annual Academy Awards
RACHEL ZEGLER
For Vogue México (March 2025)
i finally realized that not even a million tears falling on the bathroom floor will bring you back to me.
❝ no need to be so FORMAL, scum. you can call me THE HUNTRESS– after all, you ARE my prey. . . & I ALWAYS GET WHAT I HUNT. ❞
indie writing blog for HELENA WAYNE from dc, made from my own headcanons & crossover, oc friendly. dc, fandomless and other verses available.
❝ do you understand how little sense that makes? ❞
"When you've spent half your life doing what I do then it makes complete and total sense."
“well, can you explain it to me then? you’re basically gambling with your own life, and what for?” there’s no malice in juliet’s voice, but her tone’s dripping with confusion. dark brows furrowed as doe-like hues continue to study brian’s visage.
My muse playfully steals a bite of your muse’s food, then grins as they lock eyes.
“ oh, if my mom could see me now, she’d be so disgusted,” juliet laughs, the thought surprisingly thrilling. around her parents, she’s the perfect daughter — straight A’s, all sweet smiles and polite conversations. but when she’s with @cosmicfoole, she gets to be her true self. a free spirit, with a rebellious gleam in her eye, hungry for adventure. converse-clad feet stretched out in front of her, crossed at the ankles as they rest on the dashboard. passenger’s seat pushed back as far as it will go, all windows rolled down to let in the warm breeze. munching on the hot dog that she insisted on getting from a food truck near the beach, the tang of mustard and the warmth of the bun filling her senses. “ mm, it’s so good!” as she reaches for a napkin to clean the corners of her mouth, her boyfriend leans in and, without a warning, steals a bite. her eyes widening in playful shock as she catches him, bursting into laughter because who could be mad at this grinning golden retriever? “excuse me? you said you didn’t want any! said you weren’t hungry at all!” the tension of their structured, orchestrated universes melting away, the simplest of moments nothing short of perfect. “ typical montague behavior,” she jokingly retorts, handing him the bun so he can take another bite, “you’re an uncultured thief, romeo.”
a part of her wishes juliet would spill some of her own tea, shine a light on something other than poppy's mess. but any excuse to talk about sarah is enough to get her going all over again. "i don't know, j, probably her beauty? the fact that she wants all the same things he does? that she's successful in her own right but willing to follow him wherever he goes?" she hiccups through her tears and a generous sip of wine. "she's not great to me but who cares? italy was only maybe the third time we've been forced to be in the same place for an extended period of time. and now they're back home and back to normal." it didn't matter that sarah made poppy feel horrible multiple times on multiple occasions, especially when alex tried to warn her that it might not be the best idea to go on a couples trip. "if they're happy, that's what matters. not the fact that she..." called him as boring as the place they met — a quote that while alex seems willing to move on from, still has poppy nearly bursting into flames whenever she thinks about it. "she's perfect to everyone but you and me, and maybe rachel. but we're not the ones dating her."
juliet could talk about her own complicated situationship for days, but doesn’t want to make this evening about herself. she’d rather focus on the reason why she came here in the first place — her best friend’s broken heart. it really needs some mending. “her beauty? not to be mean, but she’s so… average. she has nothing on you, poppy.” manicured fingertips brushing a dark curl behind her ear, offering the other a gentle smile. her right hand lingering on her friend’s knee, squeezing sympathetically. “there’s something i don’t understand here. if they want the same things, why aren’t they married with children? if he’s so hesitant and unsure then maybe he doesn’t think she’s the one, after all. aw, sweetheart.” she sets the glass on the table and wraps both of her slender arms around poppy’s shoulders, pulling her in for a hug. “and what kind of friend is he? that’s a huge red flag. his own girlfriend is so insecure and she sees you as competition from day one, can’t even be cordial and he does nothing? what a disappointment of a man.” that man keeps losing points in juliet’s eyes. what a wimp. “i just don’t understand him. men are something else. are we drunk enough to text him? hand me your phone. i'll text him!”
𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐏 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 . . . ( pt 1. the art of touch ) Set the stage for longing glances, lingering touches, and the quiet tension of unspoken words. ✧ ˚₊ Themes: soft, slow burn & a touch of angst
✧ › SOFT & FLUFFY .
My muse tucks a loose strand of hair behind your muse’s ear, their fingers lingering for a second longer than necessary.
My muse falls asleep on your muse’s shoulder during a long ride.
My muse surprises your muse with breakfast in bed, complete with a handwritten note.
My muse pulls your muse under their umbrella during a sudden downpour.
My muse gently wipes away a tear from your muse’s cheek, their touch tender and careful.
My muse laces their fingers with your muse’s absentmindedly, only realizing it after a few seconds.
✧ › TENSION & SLOW BURN .
My muse fixes your muse’s tie/dress/jacket, their hands brushing against their skin for just a moment.
My muse leans in as if to whisper something, their lips dangerously close to your muse’s ear.
My muse catches your muse’s wrist before they can leave, their grip tightening just slightly.
My muse watches your muse from across the room, their gaze lingering even when caught.
My muse challenges your muse to a bet, knowing exactly what they’ll ask for if they win.
My muse absentmindedly plays with your muse’s fingers while they talk, not even realizing they’re doing it.
✧ › ANGST & EMOTIONAL .
My muse pulls your muse into a tight hug, as if afraid to let go.
My muse wipes away the blood from your muse’s face, their hands trembling.
My muse shows up at your muse’s doorstep in the rain, eyes filled with something unspoken.
My muse gently cups your muse’s face, whispering, “Why do you always have to make things so difficult?”
My muse kisses your muse like it’s the last time they’ll ever get the chance.
My muse lets your muse go, even though it’s the last thing they want to do.
✧ › TEASING .
My muse corners your muse against a wall, a smirk playing on their lips.
My muse whispers something in your muse’s ear that makes them blush.
My muse pulls your muse onto their lap with zero warning.
My muse playfully steals a bite of your muse’s food, then grins as they lock eyes.
My muse deliberately leans in closer just to see your muse’s reaction.
My muse drags their fingers slowly down your muse’s arm, pretending it was unintentional.
Shakespeare's romances are amazing because in his plays marriage is an act of liberation from tyranny and a union of equals, rather than being simply moving from one patriarch to the next in this essay i will
✞ –– staying perched on the steps next to the fountain, the blond keeps his face turned, elbow rested on knee as hand keeps roughly smearing tears away. ❝ no, ❞ gently protesting, ❝ valentine's day is not overrated, ❞ romeo disagrees, even in despair he didn't view it this way; how did this stranger? ❝ believing true love exists is overrated. and no, i didn't cheat. ❞ the last part causing him to give an irritated tone.
juliet can’t refrain from raising an eyebrow, shifting the weight of her body from one foot to the other and gracing the back of his head with a confused look. “and you just got broken up with?” it surely isn’t the most subtle of comments, but she’s merely pointing out the obvious. how can he still appreciate this overrated holiday when he’s nursing a broken heart? “oh, so true love doesn’t exist but yours just so happened to choose some other guy to celebrate this wonderful day with? and you’re still a fan of this holiday? i’m sorry, how does that make sense?”
✞ * open prompt to mutuals and non - mutuals. ▎
❝ humiliating. ❞ not to cry , but to be caught doing the act outside the themed party. ❝ life is a tragedy. and it's valentine's day , she chooses to CHEAT? ❞ rosaline – the thorn where the heart meets.
walking outside to get some fresh air or rather to escape paris’ drunk advances, juliet doesn’t expect to find her cousin’s (ex-)boyfriend bawling his eyes out in her secret spot. after all, the montagues weren’t invited to their party — the great gatsby themed masquerade. he’s not supposed to be here. “are you the one cheating? if not, you shouldn’t feel humiliated. sorry… i overheard you and you were probably expecting someone else. just wanted to say valentine’s day is overrated anyway.”
✞ * open prompt to mutuals and non - mutuals. ▎
the sun hot and scorching against the bare nape of his neck and still he couldn't find that it burned any harder than his feelings melting like lava against his heart , burning a HOLE right through his ribcage. casting an annoyed glared over his shoulder,
❝ allow me to rot. ❞
arms folded defensively over small chest, juliet allows yet another dramatic huff to escape her nostrils. between her and romeo, she’s not quite sure who’s the biggest diva. dark eyes rolling in visible irritation, but she still finds herself moving to sit beside him on the stoop of the rundown trailer that has been serving as their home for the past couple of days. “well, allow me to rot here with you. the AC’s down anyway. our options are rotting out here or roasting in this oven behind us. i really hate it here.”
𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐋.
basically i got thinking abt like. you know when you watch a movie, or read a book, and characters go into a room or they do a particular thing together, and you just KNOW it’s building up to something, and it could be literally anything, from a kiss to a murder, but SOMETHING will DEFINITELY happen??? yeah. this is a love-letter to those glorious scenes! i hope you all enjoy!
[ ROAD TRIP ]: the sender and receiver embark on a road trip together; the purpose could be anything at all, but what’s important is that the journey lasts at least several hours. additionally, the sender and receiver are the only people in the car!
[ BARED SOULS ]: the sender and receiver spontaneously go skinny dipping together in the middle of the night while visiting an isolated lake. go wild! maybe the sender finds the receiver already skinny dipping, maybe it’s the other way round, who knows! you do! maybe.
[ NIGHT-TIME STROLLS ]: the sender decides to walk the receiver home from an event late one night. and it’s very late; so late that they might as well be the only people left in the world. it’s just them and the quiet night sky, and conversations of all kinds are easy to come by.
[ TOP OF THE WORLD ]: one of the muses finds the other on the roof-top in the middle of the night. neither of them want to sleep, and so they sit together for the remainder of the night until the sun comes up, content to sit and talk and exist with each other.
[ STEPPING BACK ]: while they’re both attending a particularly lively and crowded party, both muses, craving a moment of peace and fresh air, accidentally go to the same balcony. unwilling to leave, they sit together, and begin to talk as the party spins on behind their backs.
[ NO VACANCIES ]: both characters are in a position where they must share a hotel room together; not so bad, until they realize the only room left has one bed and no sofa in it. paired with a carpet that not even a worst enemy would be subjected to, the two must share the bed.
[ WRONG ROOM ]: after a long day, and a hotel with many vacancies, the two muses part ways to go to bed. only, one of them ends up waking in the middle of the night, and shows up at the other’s doorstep, knocking and asking to come in, for reasons unknown to the other muse.
[ NIGHT-INGALE ]: after being badly beaten, one muse shows up on the other muse’s doorstep, pleading for help. the other obliges, brings them in and gently cleans their wounds, bandaging them up, helping them as much as they can while quiet confessions and gentle pleas happen. basically, angst and emotion and hurt and comfort, and it’s DELICIOUS–
[ VISITING HOURS ]: upon waking in a hospital bed, one of the muses turns their head, and finds the other sleeping in an uncomfortable chair by their bedside.
“ why are there many questions?”
“why do i have a feeling you’re making fun of my curiosity?” there simply must be some sort of game here, but juliet can’t quite figure out what it may be and so she plays along, shrugging her shoulders and putting on a smile. “i don’t know. has no one else ever questioned you?” she wonders out loud, doe-like hues watching the other.
