Elain and Azriel. (Canon).

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Sweet Seals For You, Always
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Kiana Khansmith
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Jules of Nature
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
Misplaced Lens Cap

if i look back, i am lost
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Claire Keane

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@laurisfont
Elain and Azriel. (Canon).
Entre o café da manhã e a madrugada, eu já fui forte, sensível, irônica e cansada.
Interior of Rosslyn Chapel by Louis Daguerre
sarah jarrett
@academia-lucifer
Life in ruins, Dimitri Bourriau
𝔇𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔲𝔩𝔞 1931 | Pinterest
Pillow thoughts
That's absolutely true.
Juansen Dizon, i am the architect of my own destruction
No Meio da Noite, de Riley Sager
Título original: Middle Of The Night, a novel
Avaliação: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️½
Duração: 01/01/2026 - 13/01/2026
A experiência de ler foi agradável. Além de ter sido a primeira leitura do ano, em conjunto com uma amiga, o livro não decepciona quando falamos de "eu quero mais". Vi uma galera criticando, o que me deu um pouco de receio de ler (confesso rs) mas acabou sendo uma surpresa agradável ter abraçado a experiência.
Não é de todo perfeito, sinto que o autor as vezes divaga em assuntos irrelevantes pro cenário e para a trama, mas entendendo a situação do protagonista, faz até sentido. Um cara paranoico, alerta e incomodado com o ambiente deve tender a falar sobre a cronologia de moradores e geografia do bairro onde ele mora, super normal.
Com exceções leves, é um suspense intrigante e surpreendente, sempre convidativo ao próximo capítulo e que faz a gente ir atrás de mais suspenses e thrillers de Ryan Sager. Vai pra estante ✨️
Hoje faço 12 anos de Tumblr! 🥳
Wtf
I love my home. I love the smell of clean, washed blankets, the comfort of the single mattress, the extra-soft pillows that hug my head. I love the sound of the door when the fan blows. I love the light from the street that comes in through the bedroom window. I love the table full of cakes, bread, chocolate, cookies of all kinds, glasses of water, napkins. I love the peeling kitchen walls, the dripping faucet, the sink that's too low for me. I love the living room, its sofas (as hard as wood) covered with sheets with holes in it, the TV on the old sewing machine, the toys in the corner. I love the photo frames, full of sudden snapshots of what we once were, relaxed nights, drunken smiles, never-again hugs, affection recorded in a forever. Everything in my home has your touch. Everything in my home has your face, your smell, your simplicity. Everything in my house makes me want to stay, makes me want to look ahead and leave you in doubt. Everything in my house embraces me, comforts me, holds me, even though my house knows that I no longer belong there. My house has worries, it has bills hanging in strategic places, it has keys nearby, it has locks. My house has everything I love the most. It has you, your bad mood, your glasses, your perfume, your white hair. Inside my house, there is my house. And I miss them both.
To bee’th cringe is to bee’th free