Vincent van Gogh. Evening Landscape, Nuenen, 1885.
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Vincent van Gogh. Evening Landscape, Nuenen, 1885.
JUJUTSU KAISEN (s2) | SATORU and SUGURU
#02. “hidden inventory 2” ⋆ 懐玉-弐-
PRIDE & PREJUDICE (2005) EMMA. (2020)
Badly Explained YA Books
The Lunar Chronicles: Cyborg Cinderella tries to save the emperor from marrying her evil aunt who lives on the moon
Percy Jackson and the Olympians: Hyperactive kids are given way too much responsibility
Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard: Dead kids are given way too much responsibility
The Raven Cycle: wdym we are going to fall in love while looking for dead welsh kings
The Mortal Instruments: “Oh no she’s my sister, oh no I love her, why why why”
Six of Crows: A master thief constantly fools everyone but most of all himself and his feelings
To Kill a Kingdom: Prince-killing siren + siren-killing prince = Trouble
The Selection: Please just choose Maxon, this is way too frustrating
Stalking Jack the Ripper: Stop exposing these two teenagers to serial killers
All for the Game: Gay college athletes somehow think sports is more important than trying to escape the Mafia
Truthwitch: Goddamit Merik, we’re under attack, stop staring at Safi for 5 minutes!
stalking jack the ripper -> audrey rose wadsworth
“Audrey Rose felt so deeply that the need to right every wrong consumed her. It was visible in the fire in her sea-green eyes, twin embers that seemed to promise vengeance for those who’d been so horribly wronged in both life and death.”
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shine // birdy
I unlace my fingers from Rose, and I hold her one hand in between two of mine, just staring at them for a while. I call her stubborn, but in the past year and a half, I’ve been worse. I meet those fierce yellow-green eyes. Even in the wake of my pain, she has this resilience that’s more beautiful than words can describe. It’s fire to my water. And I want her to burn me alive.
All of my life, I’ve had to pretend to be something I wasn’t. And to become what I wanted to become, I couldn’t be what I am.
the sun is an arrogant thing, always leaving the world behind when it tires of us. the moon is a loyal companion. it never leaves. it’s always there, watching, steadfast, knowing us in our light and dark moments, changing forever just as we do. every day it’s a different version of itself. sometimes weak and wan, something strong and full of light. the moon understands what it means to be human. uncertain. alone. cratered by imperfections.
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artwork by Ishmael Randall Weeks
Antes eu pedia perdão por sentir muito. Só que é quando perdemos algo que nos importa é que é possível perceber o quanto isso não é nenhum erro. Não. E foi isso que percebi. Não me desculpe por amar demais, por querer demais, por sentir demais. Estou vivendo, de uma maneira que amanhã não vou sentir que perdi tempo. De uma maneira que vou chorar, desesperada, perdida sobre quem eu sou e o que eu quero. Porque eu vou saber. Porque todas as decepções, as alegrias, vão ter me fortalecido de uma maneira que nenhuma apatia conseguiria. E por isso vale a pena. As lágrimas. Os sorrisos, que muitas vezes se desmancham. Vale a pena se é por viver. Para viver.
a series of unfortunate events