I Did - Tumblr Posts
Who gave this mother fucker a shotgun
Omg omg omg
Ok, my plan is to review all five books this gorgeous author has out, but I'm trying to wait until Friday, bc that's my book/story review day and I really really want to be consistent (also, I've only finished 2 books, but I did it over 3 days, so I now know that I need to finish mainlining this before I can start gushing about it).
First impressions (if giving my opinion after finishing 2 while books counts as a "first impression"):
These are spicy supernatural romance novels that feel like they were written for me
Seriously, they hit so many of my kinks, it's crazy
She writes sexy, confident, fat girls who are impossible for me not to crush on
One of the MCs has faced emotional abuse, but she's not stuck in victim mentality. It does affect her decisions, bc of course it would, but she has the strength to stand up for herself and love herself and it's gorgeous to see.
There's no assholes (so far) and even though mistakes are made, they always seem to be made with the best of intentions, which I appreciate.
I might legit have a mental crush on this author, no joke
Ok, so I'm going to stop here, bc I could honestly keep going on and on about these books, but I have a story that never got posted yesterday that I need to finish and post and then, if we're being utterly honest, I'm going to jump into the next book bc I'm addicted now.
Check out this blog, see if it might be your flavor of fun and if there's any chance it is, jump head first into this, bc it is so worth it!
from Return to Garoureve
I didn't watch a movie solely because my celebrity crush was in it what are you talking about??
we should have started rioting when they took cd and dvd player slots out of laptops
Mootoe i think they would either hate each other or be so close they talk shit about everyone, theres no inbetween
YOO
Okay so, me personally, I can definitely see their relationship starting off a bit rocky or just them side eyeing eachother so bad, they're judging eachother in their minds but I also think they can definitely bond a bit more as time goes on and they realize they're not any sort of enemies to one another hswiid
Jien is hella chill, she doesn't have the capacity for hate even if she's quite judgy - she never lets certain opinions get the better of her and she likes to remain neutral with people unLESS those opinions from before have a foundation to them. Ngl, Jien would be be quite curious of Reyna, and despite their relationship starting off rocky, that would only make Jien want to interact with Reyna more 😭 oh bro what if they were put up to work together👀 for something, idk-
Also Reyna better buckle up if Jien catches word of her and Jinshi. Just imagining them exchanging side eyes and one of them is trying not to cackle is making me cackle.
Fuck you
I've got problems with you
I'm taking you home and raising you as my own
STEP ON ME MOMMY
losing my MIND
most unstable girl you know: i need to get a masters degree
Oh me too, Ash.
"Are you still coming home?"
₊✩‧₊ ot8 - romance tropes ₊✩‧₊
synopsis: Stray Kids members as romance tropes; Based off of this ask I answered - put into longer stories/a proper series.
pairing: han jisung x fem!reader
notes: drip coffee being served. (aka angst.)
warnings: mentions of character death (reader)
Childhood Loves | Enemies -> Lovers | Forbidden Love | Soulmates | Not Meant To Be | Royalty | Unrequited Love | Blind Date
It started with a phone call.
"I got in! I did it! Did you see the email? I sent it to you- I sent you a photo!" Your voice rings through his phone so loudly that he has to pull it away from the soft skin of his cheek when he smiles; He almost accidentally hits the red circle to end the call. "Dear Ms. ___, we are pleased to announce that you've been accepted into the Summer-" His breath catches in his throat and he chokes on the words, round eyes so wide that they appear they might fall out of his head. Jisung's grip on his phone tightens and he breathes heavy, sighing out in disbelief. "Full ride. You got the full ride-! You're going to Paris! You're going to study in Paris!" He cooes. Your voice is softer on the other side, heart warming and gushing as you listen to your boyfriend faun over your achievement; What you're going to accomplish; A promise of success in the form of a short, curt email from the school of your dreams. "Four months in Paris, studying in smokey cafes," You sigh, "I'm going to Paris, Sungie. Paris..." "You're going to Paris." His hands cup your cheeks, warm and soft and covered in a light sheen of sweat from his nerves. He's not even boarding the flight and he's anxious, thumbs brushing over your reddened skin that was damp with searing tears that just threatened to leave red, stinging marks on his hands if they continued to fall. "I'm going to Paris," You whisper in confirmation. Your bags sit at your sides and your hands had come up to meet his own, rubbing over the back of them to keep him grounded more than yourself. You swallow, spit traveling down your throat in a way you can only describe as suffocating. Leaving him was going to be hard, but; This was happening. You would be gone for four months; Four long, pressing months that would no doubt pose a challenge to not only your intelligence but your well-being; Four months that would leave you missing your boyfriend every night and morning where you would lie alone. But those four months were a guarantee to drive your inspiration - They were a guarantee to push you forward in your career; And this was not an opportunity someone intelligent would just pass up. A full ride scholarship for four months in one of the most romantic countries on Earth; Without your boyfriend.
It continued with daily updates.
"Paris Fashion Week, Sungie. It was incredible! I've never seen so many gorgeous people in my life." Your words are rushed and in awe as you push through the crowd of people flooding through the streets, on your way home from the event. "I'm going to get to work as soon as I get back to the studio. The designs, the people, the way they presented - I've never felt so.. I don't know! My inspiration is flourishing!" It makes him chuckle on the other end of the phone call. He's sitting in the practice room on the floor, his back cold as it presses to the wall mirror behind him. One hand holds his phone to his ear while the other slowly twists a scrap of paper between his thumb and index, wrist perched on his knee. His eyes bore into the yellowed material and as they grow lidded, he has to blink the tears away from his lashes when they catch. "I'm happy for you." His voice shows no sign of anything short of joy. You are everything he is proud of and that's never going to falter from his mind; You come first, your happiness comes first; You above all. His lashes flutter again when the tears don't cease. They burn down his cheeks, his skin reddened and raw from where he had been rubbing his the scuffed cuff of his hoodie sleeve; But he smiles, thumb nail pressing into the ridge of his phone case as he murmurs, "Are you having fun?" "I'm having fun, but I miss you." Your voice won't stop breaking; Every word betrays you, every syllable feels like an enemy slicing at your lips and screaming for you to quit talking. Your chest juts with every breath you take where you're tangled in mangled pink sheets that constrict your limbs and when you move to switch the hand thats holding onto the phone, you rip your arm from the blankets in a bout of frustration. "I want to come home. I want to see you again." "Two weeks." Is all he can find himself mustering up the courage to answer with. Jisung could give it away, could tell you about the velvet box he's rotating in his palm as he talks to you. He doesn't break down and cry this time, finding that he's too giddy to show you the gift when you get back to find any tears. So he listens to your cries dull into sniffles until you're both back to talking about what you're going to do for the next two weeks - how you're going to work harder than you have the entire time you've been away. You're going to make him proud like you always do.
And it ended with a text message.
He'd woken up to the texts from you after pulling another all-nighter in the studio. The wishes of seeing him again, being in his arms and being complete for the first time in four long, grueling months away from each other. When he's fully conscious and aware it's the day you're coming home, he brings himself to his feet so fast that the world spins for him. Jisung's never moved so fast, made himself look presentable but still comfortable as he rushed to the airport. 5 Hours. 5 hours he sat there, checking his phone for any updates from you. He wasn't entirely sure what time you were supposed to land, but he did know the number of your flight - and as soon as he saw it on the screen perched above him, he grew giddy. Jisung's leg bounces in anticipation where he's sat, until he stands. Then he's making his way to the large window nearby to peer out and watch planes land and take off. He's in awe, hoping that on any of them you'll step off and make your way to him - come running out of the gate and throw your bags down so that he can envelop you in his arms and never let go again. His fingers twist the velvet box in his jeans pocket and he closes his eyes for a brief moment to take a breath; To calm his heartbeat that slams over and over in his chest like it's threatening to break his ribs and leap free. He glances back at the screen on the wall to see your flight number was gone. Gone....? But it was just there a moment ago. Did that mean you'd landed? Where did your flight go? Jisung turns to stare over at the people walking in and out with their luggage. He watches a woman drop her duffle bag to bring a girl about four into her arms, picking her up and sobbing into her hair that she'd missed her. He watches a man stare down at his phone as he walks by, greeted shortly after by another man who presses a kiss to his lips and comfortably guides him away from the seats to take their leave. His eyes come back to the screen to search again. It's not there. The number just disappeared, like it had never even been there in the first place. Jisung's eyes travel to the television perched nearby. A small group of people had gathered and as he stood there off to the side by a few feet, he pulls the velvet box from his pocket to turn it in his hands. The group chatters quietly about the tragedy - The flight that had crashed on it's way back from Paris, France due to a faulty engine. The only flight from Paris for the next ten hours. His lips part, breathing in slowly. His ribs feel like they rattle with how bad he begins to shake, taking a step back from the group to keep distance from the truth; The revelation that you weren't walking through that gate; That you weren't going to drop your luggage and run to him, tripping over your shoelaces that you never tied - that he had to kneel down and tie for you; That you weren't going to wear this ring. Taking a seat back where he was for five hours before, his lips finally close. They press together, roll into each other as if smearing the familiar taste of your vanilla chapstick. His free hand fishes his phone from his opposite pocket and he stares down at the lockscreen of your smiling face, a bouquet of roses in your hands from the precious Valentine's Day. Were you ever going to smile at him like that again? Slowly, he pulls up the text messages you'd sent him earlier that day. Messages of wanting to be together again, and with stiff fingers, knuckles red and angry from how tight he had been gripping the velvet box, he types out a soft reply.
Reblog if you’ve made amazing friends online and are grateful for their existence
“...I doubt anyone will stop me, though .” he mumbled quietly.
Oscar sat quietly in the bar, his mind hazy with the amount of alcohol he had drunk. he let out a soft sigh, his hand sinking into his golden hair, softly ruffling it in a failed attempt to self soothe.
He was in no state to drive, at least he was responsible enough to know that. He shakily reached for his phone, and that was when he noticed...he accidentally pressed to call Fyodor, he held back his tongue to avoid cursing out loud when he noticed..Fyodor had picked up.
“Hey Fedya...” his words were slightly slurred, and that alongside the fact that his brogue was even more noticeable than common betrayed how drunk the man was. “S..sorry to call you out of the blue.”
@fedya-the-rat-god
i want 60 thousand votes by next thursday
every day i think of the first nasir appearance and cry because she’s so cool and still hasn’t gotten an official en appearance (tapas get to WORK)
The Motto of the Sons of Lothar is 'What Turalyon Doesn't Know Can't Hurt Him'
Khadgar is f*cking Illidan? Turalyon doesn't need to know.
Alleria is in direct contact with the Void Lords, who go against everything Turalyon believes in? Turalyon doesn't need to know.
Danath set the house on fire? Turalyon doesn't need to know.
Kurdan tried to tame a Draenei? Turalyon doesn't need to know.
Khadgar is possessed? Turalyon does indeed need to know, but we won't tell him.
Alleria's family opened the realms of death? Turalyon absolutely needs to know, but he won't find out until the very last minute.
Danath has been dead for years? Turalyon really ought to know, but he won't.
Kurdan succeeded in taming a demon? We had Khadgar wipe Turalyon's memory of the event!
(basically if you've read more than 3 fanfics)
reblog if you’ve read fanfictions that are more professional, better written than some actual novels. I’m trying to see something
