Station Eleven, by Emily St. John Mandel, and Masquerade, by Laura Lam.
J. Just Finished
The Hate U Give, by Angie Thomas (5 stars and I want to make everyone in the world read it honestly), and The Girl Who Drank the Moon, by Kelly Barnhill (4 stars)
Q. Quote From A Book That Inspires You/Gives You Feels
I don’t know why, but the first quote that came to mind was: “’C’mon, Coram!’ she cried, galloping past him. ‘Let’s go find an adventure!’” (In the Hand of the Goddess, by Tamora Pierce)
R. Reading Regret
Hmm. I think I regret that I’m no longer willing to just…try random books. I used to spend hours browsing at the library for pretty covers and catchy synopses, and now I pretty much exclusively read books that I’ve already heard good things about. This means that I read much better books, on average, than I used to! But it also means that I lose out on that marvelous feeling of discovering a book none of my friends have read, a book that feels like a secret between me and the author. You know?
V. Very Excited For This Release More Than Any Other
The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue, by Mackenzi Lee (IT’S COMING OUT SO SOON!! A FEW MORE DAYS!!), and the next Queen’s Thief book, which will probably come out in about a decade (RIP)
Y. Your Latest Book Purchase
Station Eleven, by Emily St. John Mandel (I got a third of the way through the ebook before deciding that I really needed a physical copy of this one)
this has got to be one of the MOST well thought out lines in acomaf. take a look at this line. in this scene, all hell broke loose and feyre was pretending to be under rhys’s “spell”. obviously tamlin thought feyre was referring to rhys in this line. but if you reread it, you realize that she’s actually saying it to the inner circle too— telling them that she doesn’t wanna go back to tamlin and the spring court. she is saying it to both tamlin and the inner circle. god, sarah j maas is bloody brilliant.
Some Piper doodles that I’m projecting my emotions onto
I think it’s just that time of night where you think about every life choice you’ve made and start regretting some of them.
I’m native american and growing up was hard with the lack of positive representation and whatnot. When I was younger I didn’t want to be native, I wasn’t proud to be native. I felt like I was a part of group that didn’t exist and natives only make up a small percentage of the population. It was hard growing up with relatives who did nothing but drink alcohol. There wasn’t a lot to be proud of. I can’t name any famous native americans off the top of my head. No comedians, no radio personalties, no nothing. So I rebelled being native every chance I got. I refused to speak navajo. I refused learning it. I regret not learning when I had the chance bc it’s a dying language and less and less people are speaking it and I’m contributing to that growing number. I can’t talk to my grandma who only speaks navajo. I can’t hear her stories.
I already have some recs here and some smut recs here , so definitely check those out buuut, some of you said you wanted more and I’ve read a good amount of new, good fics so I thought why not share them. I had to include some of the fics I already recd bc they’re just too good. this is my way of saying thank you for 800 followers I’M STILL SCREAMING.
Jungkook and Jimin have been friends for a while now, and it takes nothing but Jimin’s break up with his boyfriend for the two of them to grow closer. He never actually thought of the fact that he could be gay, but it takes not much time for him to start thinking differently, particulary about one certain male with brown hair, who triggers his curiosity, who makes him question himself about his sexuality.
Jimin wants a bad boy that will be good just for him. Jungkook wants a good boy that will be bad just for him. And Jimin absolutely, undeniably, doubtlessly hates Jungkook just as much as he loves him.
Jimin has been working at the same place for three years, watching as the world around him moves along in a busy hype. Although he enjoys certain aspects of his job, particularly since Min Yoongi became his manager, over time he gradually felt the usual rhythm begin to weigh him down.
Taehyung, his closest friend, comes to Gwanghwamun Starbucks for two reasons - free drinks or food if he’s feeling peckish, and to stare at Yoongi with a lump in his throat.
Jungkook is young and he is more acquainted with confusion and poor-decision-making than he’d like to admit. Despite being only 19 years old, he sometimes argues that he’s been through and seen some shit. He is never sure where he’s going to end up and he’s not entirely sure what kind of future is waiting for him. He is often not sure of a lot but he is certain—absolutely certain—that he’s not gay.
Alternatively, a story in which Jungkook meets Park Jimin and doesn’t like him whatsoever. There’s just something about him… there’s just so much about him. Jungkook really can’t stand him. In fact, he can’t stand him so much he can’t quite seem to get him off of his mind.
Jeon Jungkook is still just a kid when he sets out for Seoul. He knows about the tall buildings, the maze-like roadways, and dorm life he’s signed up for. He expects the difficulties of being a trainee, finds it in the holes of his worn out dance shoes and countless sleepless nights. But what he doesn’t expect, could never expect, is meeting Park Jimin.
It’s then Jungkook realizes that there’s more to learn in Seoul than dance choreographies: about growing up, falling in love, and about himself.
A three year story [2013-2016] of coming together, breaking apart, and putting each other back together again. Jeon Jungkook learns about change, growing up, and the hardships of falling in love with a friend.
+ It’s dark when she opens her eyes. Not the dark of late evening, when the stars have begun to twinkle in the sky—when the only sound to be heard is the choral chirping of insects, the darkening of doorways. No, it’s a darkness that knows it will have to fade eventually, a grey dawn that casts their bedroom in a hazy, dreamlike glow.
A nippy, quiet breeze smelling suspiciously of rain tiptoes through the open window and she catches the scent of him on the air. It’s a spicy mixture of cologne and sweat, a warm, enticing blend that clashes wonderfully with the fresh, tingling wetness of an impending storm. She can feel his rough, weathered fingers against the bare flesh of her waist. The tap, tap, tapping of his thumb against her belly. The smooth, hard metal of his ring against her stomach not unlike the steady ringing of a church bell, a far off song, a call to his side.