A little bit of this & that...

Currently obsessed with Slow Horses - Jack Lowden, Taylor Swift & all things Victorian along with books & poetry.

[annaelizabethhenry1]

Echoes From The Past

Summary: River Cartwright visits his grandfather post season four at the care home. The visits conjure memories of River’s childhood and teen years as he grapples with his grandfather’s declining mental health and how once he’s gone he’ll have no one left. Warning – spoilers for all four seasons!

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

[serenecrest]

Jack Lowden has charmed me

[joepickett]

Slow Horses 3.04

[andallshallbewell]

[happilyings]

starry night over the rhône

vincent van gogh

musée d’orsay

[technoturian]

I love how The Other Bennet Sister was constantly showing Mary and Tom be just bad at things.

The way they were counting their steps while dancing. The stumbling over each other's words. Her inability to paint. His awful drawings.

I adore them. Just the absolute cringefail couple of my dreams.

[austenacious]

The Other Bennet Sister ~ Text Posts [9/?] (Mary Bennet Edition)

[peg-the-empire]

i love making friends in fandom, i love playing with our toys together, i love coming up with increasingly niche aus, i love lifting strangers up, i love motivating people to create, i love watching someone get excited over an idea and immediately running with it, i love yelling in tags together, i love seeing someone gain confidence in their writing/art because people were kind to them <33

[joepickett]

War & Peace (2016) 1.04

[joepickett]

Slow Horses 2.02

[sansaorgana]

the man accused of being "too ugly" to play mr. darcy by people on the internet

[sansaorgana]

the man accused of being "too ugly" to play mr. darcy by people on the internet

[sansaorgana]

the man accused of being "too ugly" to play mr. darcy by people on the internet

[tinkertailorsoldierguy]

rocky if rocky was a movie about a guy training to be able to do four (4) pull-ups

[filmgifs]

Pride and Prejudice (2026) dir. Euros Lyn

[natalieplease]

I have none of the usual inducements of women to marry. Were I to fall in love, indeed, it would be a different thing! but I never have been in love; it is not my way, or my nature; and I do not think I ever shall. And, without love, I am sure I should be a fool to change such a situation as mine. Fortune I do not want; employment I do not want; consequence I do not want: I believe few married women are half as much mistress of their husband’s house as I am of Hartfield; and never, never could I expect to be so truly beloved and important; so always first and always right in any man’s eyes as I am in my father’s.

Emma, Jane Austen

[jomiddlemarch]

a neighborhood of voluntary spies

“When you go to London, will you write me every day?” Elizabeth asked, halfway draped across her husband’s bare chest, propped on her elbows. He kept playing idly with her loose hair, which he preferred she not plait before bed.

It made for an extra-long toilette with her lady’s maid Randall, but Elizabeth used the time to sip an additional cup of chocolate, aware her mother would rejoice at the multiple luxuries heaped upon her second-most-beautiful daughter.

“I shall not be gone very long. My business should only take a few days and I have no wish to linger,” Darcy replied.

“Still, will you write?” she said.

“If you wish it, Lizzie. But you may not complain if the letters lack any epistolary elegance, if they are a dull or plaintive,” he said.

“They shall be neither. I’m confident of that,” she said.

“Why are you so eager for letters? Does something trouble you?” he said, catching her chin with his finger and tilting her face so he might regard her more seriously.

“I haven’t got one from you,” she said.

He frowned, the expression faintly recalling how he had looked the first time she had met him, though he was wearing far less, having exchanged his exquisitely tailored evening clothes for a rumpled linen sheet.

“I’m quite certain you have had a letter from me, Lizzie. I labored over those pages mightily, broke three quills, finished a bottle of brandy after I’d delivered it,” he said.

“I burned it,” she said.

“You burned that letter? I told you the deepest secrets of my heart, I risked everything—" 

“You gained everything. I read that letter so often I knew it by heart, it might as well have been tattooed upon me as a savage wears their tribal insignia. What you wrote, that was when I began to love you, though I did not know how much, how deeply, how thoroughly my affections would be yours,” she said.

“Then why did you burn it?” he said.

“It was too precious. Too private. Too full of your most intimate thoughts, of Georgiana’s experiences…I fell ill, not terribly ill, but I was a day abed and I thought about how quickly Jane had become ill, how I could not guarantee that she would be the only one to come across your letter. She would never read it and if she did, somehow, she would never speak of it but there was too great a chance it could become the subject of gossip,” Elizabeth explained. She did not say I could not trust my mother or my other sisters but they both knew she meant that and that it still hurt her to admit the truth.

“That was most prudent of you, dearest,” he said very softly.

“Even if we had never met again, especially if we had never met again, I owed you that discretion. But I did shed a tear when I burnt it, I’ll have you know that,” she said.

“You wept to burn the letter?” he said, brushing his thumb across her cheekbone, where a tearstain had long ago been washed away.

“I did. I had lost the letter and I was clumsy, I burnt my finger and I couldn’t ask Cook for goose-grease,” she said.

“Poor thing,” he said and it was even more tender than when he called her dearest. “I shall write you a letter every day, twice on Sunday.”

Written for @janeuary-month Day 16 prompt "gossip."