Fangirl Rainbow Rowell Novels & Stories

Beside her is this butch gay guy who's wearing a pink lipstick and a yellow feather scarf wrapped around his neck. "Hey, walking rainbow," Aldrin responded with a wide smile. I am quite torn if he's flirting with this girl or if he's mocking her, but he seemed to be mocking her more than flirting with her. I looked at the girl, and she definitely looks like a walking rainbow. She's wearing all of those unorganized colors that do not visually and artistically match each other. "My name is Anna, and for your information, I am not a walking rainbow. I am a prancing rainbow," The rainbow girl said and made a short twirl. "And this is Bruno, and we're both from the student council."

Mawar frowned at Cheryl's ambiguous words. "You want to shoot people or want to preach?" Mawar protested. Cheryl deleted the message and thought of words that fit. Cherylalala: I'm sure you are my ribs, save your backbone, for our little family later. "Anjir ... amused by her words." "Ish, all the words, no one got hit." Cheryl was embarrassed. It felt like he wanted to throw his cellphone away because he was too annoyed. Cherylalala: I am a desperate girl. Can you give me a rainbow? Even though the rainbow is only for a moment, the color gradation will never be forgotten :)

I rolled my eyes and let go of the girl’s hand. The warmth in my mark faded back to a low, steady thrum. No surge. No burn. No hungry tug. Just…there. Waiting. “Looks like it still does things,” Rowan said, sounding frankly awed. “Just a different kind of terrifying now.” “It’s not terrifying,” the girl protested, then flushed. “I mean—maybe a little. But in a nice way.” Rowan clutched his chest. “Wounded,” he said. “Upstaged in charm by a magic scar.”

“She never was mine.” “No.” “She wasn’t anyone’s.” I sat beside him. Neither of us touched the stone. But both of us saw what it reflected. Scars. And something softer underneath. Rowan whispered, “I don’t know what I am without her.” I didn’t lie. Didn’t tell him he’d be fine. I just said, “Then maybe it’s time to find out.” --- Aelira started calling it The Weave. Not the Hollow. Not the Capital. Just that—simple, soft, strange.

Fiona’s POV The moment those words dropped, Rowan had vanished from my side before I could blink and stood in front of Helena’s clique in an instant. “The fuck did you say bitch?” Rowan asked, her hazel eyes burning wild fire, ready to spit out balls of fiery flames. Her entire aura was so dark with violent rage and deadly malice, the girl who had uttered those words went white with fear. Rowan advanced closer, nearly towering the girl, her body tense as a tight bow string. “I fucking dare you to repeat those words you just said. I didn’t quiet catch that.”

I stood up most reluctantly, smiling sheepishly. I was honestly the top student in Psychology and seriously didn't wish to let my image down in the eyes of Miss Clarissa even for a second. I was on the verge of embarrassing myself terribly when an extraordinarily weird phenomenon occurred. As I glanced sideways for a second or so, my eyes fell on Rachel Dawson, another highly intellectual girl from my class who was staring at Miss Clarissa with an agitated expression on her face, and my brain buzzed heavily as though it was a radio, and the definition of the word echoed loudly in my mind through Rachel's silky voice.

"I can't feel the world anymore. The connection... it's broken." Rowan looked at me, and for the first time, he looked truly scared. "Kaima? Your eyes..." I looked into a puddle of rainwater. My eyes weren't violet. They were a simple, dark brown. The same as his. "I'm just Kaima," I said, a small smile touching my lips. "I'm just a girl." We sat in the ruins of the city, watching the sun rise over a world that was broken, beautiful, and finally, finally ours.

She'd looked so good from the back, but why was her face so normal? Her body was really nice. Though she was tall and slender, her bone structure was small, and she had curves in all the right places. Her legs were really beautiful as well. Ariel adjusted her spectacles and introduced herself. "Hello, I'm new here. My name is Ariel Randell." "Hello!" Rachel nodded excitedly and did not mention that she already knew that she was Cyrus' younger sister. She just answered, "You're having your freshmen training tomorrow, right? Did you bring any sunscreen? If not, you're welcome to use mine."

**Raina’s POV** I must have been pent up, because it didn’t take long for an earth-shattering orgasm to course through me. My hands were holding Rowan’s head in place as he devoured me in the shower. He kept going even after I reached my climax, his tongue exploring every inch of my core like he wanted to carve his name into my pussy. “Rowan, ah… that’s it!” I cried out in pure bliss, my eyes rolling to the back of my head.

Even the unheard parts. Eliza’s POV The new book had a softness to it. Not weakness. But softness. Mara, the fictional version of Rachel, was still fierce. Still afraid. Still scarred. But this time, she had places to land. People who stayed. I asked River one night, “Is this how you imagine she would’ve lived?” River paused. Then said, “It’s how I hope she believed she could’ve.” Carrie’s POV River included a scene in Chapter Eight where Mara tries to contact a support group.