@jaredmafriend - Tumblr Blog

knoping

adulthoodisokay

we didn’t deserve Sense8

bottoms-movie

Playtime with Harry Styles | November 13, 2020

hydro-homies

I answer for no one.

madz-the-3rd

coraliewhodraw

I'm late to the party but here is my part

sheryl-lee

It’s all a mess. The one out there. The one in here. The one that’s coming. Why is everyone so ready to think the worst is over?

Dakota Johnson as Susie Bannion in SUSPIRIA (2018)

buffysummers

Now the witch is back and there’s hell to pay. Hocus Pocus (1993) dir. Kenny Ortega

rienqueducinema

ROBERT PATTINSON photographed by Matthew Brookes for Variety (2019)

mr-styles

FINE LINE ERA

aceofsquiddles

I was thinking about how ‘Grinch’ and ‘Scrooge’ are words for people who hate Christmas but aren’t exact synonyms and then this chart happened.

kim-jong-chill

tesb

The au pair knew the moment had come. The beast had lurked indeed, and the beast, at its hour, had sprung. And she could not risk the most important thing, her most important person. Not for one more day. And so, the gardener found herself back at Bly Manor one last time. The gardener said the words she’d heard those years ago; she willed it with everything she had. You, me, us. Us. “Take me with you,” she cried in her heart. “Take me. Drag me down like you did the others.” But the lady in the lake was different now – the lady in the lake was also Dani. And Dani wouldn’t. Dani would never. In fact, no one would ever be taken again, and no one has been taken to this day.

For the rest of her days, the gardener would gaze into reflections, hoping to see her face. Her own lady in the lake. She’d leave her door open at night, just a crack, should she ever come back – waiting for her lover to return.

Years would go by, and as she slept underneath the water, the au pair’s memories would fade. Like Viola before her, like the children, she, too, would forget her past. She would know nothing of the gardener, nothing of their life together. The details, the specific moments would all fade away. More time will pass, and the water will wash away the delicate features of her; of her beautiful, perfect face. But she won’t be hollow, nor empty. And she won’t pull others to her fate. She will merely walk the grounds of Bly, harmless as a dove, for all of her days, leaving the only trace of who she once was in the memory of the woman who loved her most.