nightfyre-writings

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really hilarious and unsexy when hetero romantasy authors refer to love interests as males and females. you sound like david attenborough narrating a special documentary on two turtles humping in the mud

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"Edward, women like three things..."

Carlisle: validation, thoughtful communication, and private beaches.

Esme: a creative outlet, unique textiles, and white built-in shelves.

Alice: the Gucci F/W 1995 ready-to-wear collection, themed parties where everyone actually sticks to the theme, and Jane Birkin's Birkin bag.

Jasper: the Gucci F/W 1995 ready-to-wear collection, themed parties where everyone actually sticks to the theme, and Jane Birkin's Birkin bag.

Emmett: men in kilts, local gossip from old ladies, and Chris Isaac's Wicked Game.

Rosalie: For you to leave them alone so they can enjoy the other two in peace.

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— June Gehringer, ‘I get so jealous of euthanized dogs’ (via lunamonchtuna)

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bella complaining about how much jessica talks about boys, specifically mike newton, girl... the call is coming from inside the house...

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When Edward is explaining Carlisle’s theory of vampire ~gifts~ being a very strong personality attribute carried over to the next life, he mentions Carlisle guessed he was “always aware of others’ thoughts” or whathaveyou. I believe in my heart of hearts Carlisle was softening the blow with that phrasing— he really thinks Edward was an exceptionally nosy lil bitch

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“Isn’t it just peachy?”

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sam & emily: 👩 ❤ 💋 👨👉👈😏

bella:

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A red fox snacking on a plum.

FREDERIC DESMETTE / BIOSPHOTO / MINDEN PICTURES

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Lestat in PRINCE LESTAT AND THE REALMS OF ATLANTIS

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What if, in that first biology class, Bella does pick up on the fact that Edward is really, really hungry, and being a pretty thoughtful person, she slowly fishes a snack bar out of her backpack, places it on their table, and slowly slides it over to him

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Sam: truth or dare? Dean: truth Sam: how much sleep you've had this week? Dean: . . . Dean: dare Sam: go to sleep Dean: I don't like this game

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"consign me not to darkness" - oh DO tell, I love that song (Mumford & Sons, right?)

DING, DING, DING - YES, the title IS from a Mumford & Sons song (Broken Crown, to be specific)!

Here is a snippet from it:

“I used to be a brother.” (The shard of lightning cuts across charred skin, illuminating a face that the realm once called handsome.) Jaehaera looks on as the rain heaves itself upon the stones of the Red Keep, and wonders if her uncle was frightened when the currents of the Gods Eye dragged him below the waves. “I used to be a sister.”  (There was a twin, once. A brother, too. She can’t remember their faces, but she thinks they’d be handsome ones.)  With no cup left to entertain her father’s hands, they twitch; always restless and always reaching, they grasp the air and find nothing. Nothing but her, but he doesn't touch her. He never touches her. (Jaehaera likes to think it’s because he cannot, but she knows it’s really because he will not.) Another twitch. Another flash of lightning. Thunder bellows from the heavens, and the young Targaryen girl looks up at the sky, curious if it will fall upon them all.

Also, here is ANOTHER snippet, from months ago.

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AU: They despise each other, but can't stop fucking. They get more aggressive during sex: screaming, bitting, marking each other. It's a game for them: who lasts longer, who makes the most damage while trying not to get caught.

"Why were you pinching my hips during dinner?"

"Wanted to see you squirming"

She repeats "stay away from me", he answers "as if I wanted", but at the slightest sight of jealousy, innocent remark or simply by getting too close to each other – things will be flying, the clothes torn, furniture broken.

"I'll put my best Dornish wine on the line to bet that you've been fantasizing about the moment when my fingers will be inside you the entire evening".

"You're not the one to criticize me. Your plate stayed full the whole dinner - you've been devouring me with your eyes all evening".

"I hate you" she whispers, while embracing him around the neck, so secretively, as if confessing love. His sweaty forehead presses against hers: "Mutual, sister."