Throne Of Glass As An Album Receipt, Inspired By RJ Kaur On YouTube. Made By Me.

Parent: yells at and threatens child over a mistake

Child: doesnt want to spend time with them afterwards

Parent:

“𝙒𝙝𝙤 𝙜𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨 𝙖 𝙛𝙡𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙇𝙮𝙧𝙞𝙖 𝙈𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙖𝙣? 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙚 𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙡 𝙞𝙨 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙪𝙥 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙖 𝙥𝙞𝙚𝙘𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙝𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙚.” hey @charincharge look at what i’ve been doing instead of focusing on my paperworks hahaha :))

Coming into a fandom late

i couldn’t think of anything creative for the background but oh well!!! here she is!!! the queen herself!!!!

i just discovered this wilkinson sword ad, and it is basically #myaesthetic 😘

man more people need to join the fucking bedroom fandom

i mean look at this shit. 

it’s bunk beds and a little desk. 

a motherfucking aquarium!

shit it’s like noah’s ark in the fucking ceiling

look how modern this shit is

it’s like three rooms in one

you could get a boat and sing fucking phantom of the opera and then just climb in bed.

I will man this damn fandom by myself if I have too

The Nine Terrifying Moons | Masterlist

Based on the response to this post. :) Oh, yes, we’re doing the thing.

Cross-posted to AO3.

Fandom: The Folk of the Air | Jude + Cardan

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten

Chapter One: The First

I am trying to keep my hands from shaking while I’m holding the test strip. There’s one pink line, and I’m waiting to see if there will be two. I think I already know the answer, but I’m holding my breath like it’ll make time go faster anyway.

If I ever imagined this moment, which I don’t remember ever doing, but if I did, I would have imagined it like the commercials that would run in the background when my mom would watch tv while she cooked dinner. If those were to be believed, I was supposed to be in an all-white, pristine, upper-middle-class bathroom, gasping with tears of joy while I hid my pearly white smile behind trembling fingers. My partner would be hugging me from behind, elated and definitely not about to make any crude jokes about the virulence of his sperm.

None of this is happening.

I am in a Target bathroom stall, surrounded by Target-red walls. Cardan, my husband and the High King of Elfhame, is on the other side of the red walls, trying to distract himself with the automatic paper towel dispensers. He’s waving his hand in front of it every couple of seconds; I can hear it each time the motor dispenses paper. I wonder how long of a trail he’s created at this point, but it’s the least of my worries.

“Cardan, you’re wasting paper,” I tell him anyway. He does it again once more; I can practically feel his petulant glare through the wall.

“How long is this meant to take?” he asks.

“It’s only been thirty seconds,” I tell him. “It takes two minutes.”

“I will die of old age by then,” Cardan mutters to himself, which I know he finds funny, because he’s immortal, and he waves his hand by the paper towel dispenser again.

I think I’m going to have a nervous breakdown.

Keep reading

Love her

Nesta