Post It Warna Warni

Believe it or not, we assume every love tale as cliche until and unless we dive into it. Both above figures had a kind of part to play here which is cannot even say as cliche. This is a story of my most favourite couple. Yeah, it's a love story, obviously! And their love chapters start on a very very boring note. Him flying back to India and her liking post on Instagram of her friends. Most important, based on their real life love series. ***Wiping tears behind the door hold a memory of precious loss in her childhood and a mysterious misunderstanding leads her to hate Avinash like anything. They haven't seen each other for years... But he wanted to meet her, talk to her. Finally, a day came and they meet which doesn't let them cross paths but instead get them together to ride on a bike of love trip. Meanwhile, both of them already had someone to fix with. If anyone thinks that after falling in love is no trouble then it's no way! Will she keep ignoring her feelings? Will he keep dragging the things? And never confess to her. Can they resist the spark they had in between them? The argue to kiss! ***This is a very twisted romantic love story that stirs hearts, that at times leaves you breathless and that manages to make us believe that, and love can do all things. Peek into Ashiyaan and Avinash's beautiful journey of finding love, hope, and magic in their own universe, which holds a passionate spark in between them.*** And Hey!! It was my first work obviously and I'm very much happy and excited to announce that this story is complete and edited. Shower your love on my book. Sure you are gonna love it.

Le jour de mon mariage, mon fiancé, Gervais Rodier, a brutalement mis fin à la cérémonie. Tout ça, à cause d'un simple post de Léonie annonçant son retour en France. Gervais a jeté l'alliance qu'il avait lui-même dessinée, puis est parti sans un regard en arrière. Je suis restée là, immobile, dans ma robe de mariée. Jasmin, mon frère, qui me soutenait, a fini par lâcher mon bras : « Clara, tu as toujours été forte. Je sais que tu peux gérer ça seule. Là, c'est Léonie qui a le plus besoin de moi. » Sur ces mots, il est parti, lui aussi. Ils m'ont abandonnée, pour la même femme. Le soir, après avoir réglé les derniers détails de ce mariage raté, j'ai reçu une photo de Léonie. Sur l'image, Gervais et Jasmin veillaient tous deux à son chevet. Le collier fabriqué par Gervais était autour de son cou, et la robe de mariée dessinée par Jasmin enveloppait son corps. Tout cela… aurait dû m'appartenir… C'était à ce moment-là que j'ai abandonné tout espoir. Les larmes aux yeux, j'ai composé un numéro : « Papa, maman… J'ai changé d'avis. Je veux rentrer chez nous. »

"Aku benci wanita seumur hidupku. Dan kalian semua adalah saksi dari ucapanku!" Terucapnya sebuah sumpah empat tahun silam juga merupakan awal mulai berubahnya sikap Deondra. Dia yang awalnya ceria, penuh warna dan selalu menebarkan kebaikan. Kini berubah drastis hanya karena sebuah pengkhianatan. *** Di empat tahun kemudian, seorang wanita yang menjadi pelayan baru di rumahnya membuat Deondra sedikit terusik. Seakan ada yang menariknya untuk memiliki, hingga tanpa sadar rasa cintanya timbul. Tapi Deondra tak pernah mau mengakui itu, bahkan rasa bersalahnya pun tak tampak di saat dia dengan sengaja menodai pelayan itu. Alrix menundukkan kepalanya. "Maafkan saya, Tuan Muda. Saya akan memecatnya!" "Untuk apa lagi? Perbuatanmu itu tak bisa membuat rasa kesalku hilang!" "Lalu apa yang anda ingin saya lakukan, Tuan?" Akhirnya bertanya, hal yang bisa Alrix lakukan jika sudah tak bisa menenangkan pikiran dan emosi Deondra. "Biarkan saja dia." Alrix tersentak, menatap kearah Tuannya yang tengah tersenyum sinis. "Dia akan menjadi mainan yang bagus untukku. Karena menurut pandanganku, wajahnya cukup menarik juga." Mampukah Deondra menjadikan pelayan itu sebagai mainan? Atau justru Deondra yang harus bertekuk lutut di bawah kakinya demi mengharapkan maaf dan juga cinta? Karena Deondra akhirnya menyadari bahwa pelayan itu bukanlah gadis biasa. Bagaimana kisahnya? Simak di sini.

Pada awalnya, hidupku baik-baik saja. Hidup berjalan semestinya, semesta seakan mendukung apa yang aku inginkan. Namun, semua berubah begitu saja. Semesta tiba-tiba bercanda dengan hidupku. Tiba-tiba saja aku menjadi saksi bisu melihat kekasihku selingkuh. Udah gitu, selingkuhnya di tempat kita biasa bertemu. Di tempat itu, aku dan dia memulai pdkt, di situ kami resmi berpacaran, dan sialnya, aku melihatnya selingkuh di tempat itu. Penderitaanku belum cukup sampai disitu… Tak berselang lama, tepatnya satu bulan kemudian. Ia resmi menikah, dan melupakanku dengan hadiah luka terdalam yang pernah aku rasakan seumur hidupku. Begitu kejadian yang pernah ku rasakan… Sekarang… Saat ini tepat satu tahun setelah kejadian itu. Aku sudah membaik. Namun, sebatas itu ; membaik tanpa pulih seutuhnya. Setahun ini perjuanganku untuk bangkit seakan-akan tidak ada gunanya. Hidupku masih berantakan, dan masih belum bisa melupakan kenangan manis bersamanya. Aku pun berjanji dengan diriku sendiri,"Aku akan membuktikan bahwa aku bisa bangkit dengan hobi, dan prestasi untuk kehidupan yang lebih baik lagi." Aku pun memulai untuk maju selangkah demi selangkah tanpa keraguan demi kehidupan yang lebih indah, dan aku yakin aku bisa berdamai bersama luka. Berawal dari lara, lalu berjuang tanpa rasa untuk mencapai kehidupan mendatang penuh warna, dan penuh rasa yang lebih indah… Itulah kisahku, kisah cinta beranjak dewasa penuh drama. Drama percintaan kehidupanku, Cahaya Putri.

In my last life, my brother Leo—the heir to the Moretti crime family—stripped our estate bare of every last soldier, all for a Vegas jaunt. All because his new flame, Scarlett, had a jones for the high-roller tables. The Volkovs—our rivals, the very ones Leo had just pissed off—saw their opening and stormed our gates. My mother, Sofia, took a bullet meant for me. Died protecting me. I blew up Leo’s phone, my pleas turning to screams. He didn't answer. He waltzed back in after the shooting stopped, bringing our men home, but far too late for it to matter. Then, the news from Vegas. Scarlett was gone. A suicide note left behind. In it, she painted me as the monster. The one who’d leaked our weaknesses to the Volkovs. The one who'd orchestrated a fake kidnapping and torture plot, all to drive her to despair and lure Leo home. A perfect, tragic lie. Leo read the letter calmly. Then he burned the letter and told me, "Forget it. It's handled." Father tore into Leo for abandoning his post, for leaving his family to die. And me? I was named the new Consigliere. But after the celebration, Leo cornered me in the wine cellar. His face was a mask of cold fury as he pressed the barrel of his gun to my forehead. "This is for family traitors," he hissed, his voice pure venom. "The throne is my birthright, not some backstabbing bitch's prize!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Right in the middle of the fire and the blood. This time, I shoved my mother behind me, dragging her toward the panic room. And the bastards who were too blind to believe me? They’ll regret it.

My fiance, Victor Blackwood, is a mafia boss who rules the country's underworld with an iron fist. To the rest of the world, he is the epitome of power. Yet to me, he is the embodiment of love. But I do not realize the cost of loving a man like him. On Valentine's Day, I cook his favorite dishes and wait for him to come home. However, time passes, and his chair stays empty. Uneasy, I go to Queenie Stone's social media page. She is Victor's foster sister. She posts, "All I said was that I felt lonely, and he came right away. "Even when I accidentally spilled wine on him, he didn't mind. Victor is still someone who puts family first, even if it means neglecting his lover. "He never lets me down. I hope things stay that way." In the photo, Victor's shirt is soaked at the waist. Queenie's handkerchief lingers near his most private parts, but he doesn't pull away. He merely looks at her affectionately. I do not make a fuss and give Queenie's post a like. Then, I send Victor a message that reads, "Let's break up." Victor ignores it as always. Later, I discover that when my breakup message popped up, he had said offhandedly, "Vivienne can't live without me. She's just acting out. "If I ignore her for a few days, she'll come crawling back by herself. She's easy to please." What he doesn't know is that I was easy to handle only because I once loved him. But now that I have decided to leave, he cannot make me turn back, no matter how he tries to win me over.

Kimberly Wilson had been married to Steven Smith for two years. When Steven proposed a divorce, she agreed without hesitation. Holding a huge fortune, she began to wealth freely. The Wilson family had only one child, so who would be family continuity? Simple, she said, 'Help me post a message offering a high reward for pregnancy.' It read, "Due to my husband's car accident rendering him infertile, seeking a healthy male for surrogacy. Generous compensation." As for the requirements, 'Must be handsome, have an excellent physique, graduated from an Ivy League school, and be good in bed. Price is negotiable.' Her highly efficient personal assistant, whom she had hired at great expense, sent over photos of applicants the next day. One ultimately met her criteria and even exceeded her expectations. The side profile in the photo, noble and aloof, looked familiar. She immediately decided, 'Okay, It's him.' 'He's available anytime, but he has one prerequisite.' her assistant informed. Kimberly raised an eyebrow, 'What requirement?' 'He's a bit shy, so the lights must be off.' Only later did she realize what trouble she had gotten into. The man was not only the sole heir to the multi-billion luxury goods group-Garcia group but also the best friend of her ex-husband. Steven didn't wait for Kimberly to reconcile as usual but instead heard the news of her new romance. Despairing, he said, 'I can live without her. Don't try to persuade me.' But later, drunk, he called in the middle of the night. 'Kiki...' His voice was choked up. A cold male voice responded from the other end, 'May I ask why you're calling my wife in the middle of the night?' '......'

This book is authored by G O A. Why Tech Billionaire Artemis Rhodes would post such a thing?! "Everyone is talking about the hashtag that just went viral in less than a few hours. Nevertheless, this girl has become a mystery everyone wants to solve. In fact, we have pictures from several people who have seen the girl in person." The screen of the phone is small but I catch several pictures of me flashing on the screen. This can't be happening! You know that panic attack I had been pushing down? Well, that thing comes back with a vengeance. It feels like all the air is sucked out of me and my chest gets tight. My vision blurs and I register I'm falling just before things go dark. "Relax Miss Riley, this is Mr. Rhodes a donor to our hospital. This woman is his fiancee. I'll take things from here." The doctor says and steps aside to let the nurse out. I watch her scurry away before I focus on the doctor. He's an older man with white hair and a friendly face but he gives me weird vibes. Wait...did he just say, fiancee? "I'm sorry what did you say?" I ask. "I have a proposition for you." The man says. "A proposition for me? What do you mean?" "A proposition? It means-" I wave my hand. "Not that! I'm not an idiot. I mean what proposition?" "I want you to marry me." He says with a straight face. So I bet your wondering how a woman who lives in an abandoned train car ends up married to a big tech billionaire. Well it's simple. We ran right into each other, locked eyes and the rest is history.

Crimson Bloomed: Ascend Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | Coming - of - Age | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Burn The city looked like it had been devoured — chewed up by fire, time, and whatever came after — then spit back out in jagged pieces. Dead drones dangled from power lines like rusted ornaments. Neon signs flickered above fractured pavement, their broken scripts glitching into gibberish. Down the block, a half - melted smartcar burned slow, casting warped shadows across the skeletal remains of a coffee bar. Behind a crumpled tram car, someone crouched low, breath tight in her lungs. The shrieking hadn’t stopped. It came again — sharp, bone-deep, the kind of sound that latched onto your spine and refused to let go. She checked the signal jammer at her hip. Still blinking. Still active. Not for long. They were tracking her. She moved fast — boots silent over broken glass, slipping through the breach in an old laundromat’s wall. Her body moved from muscle memory now: slide through, duck left, over the washer, don’t look at the corpse slumped by the dryer. Out the back. Up the fire escape. On the rooftop, she halted. Not alone. Someone was already there — silhouetted against the bleeding sunset. Combat jacket. Short - cropped hair. Pulse rifle slung casually over one shoulder like it weighed nothing. Like this was just another rooftop, just another war. “Don’t move,” the voice snapped. She lifted her hands slowly. “I’m clean.” “Everyone says that.” “Scan me.” beat. Then the girl stepped forward, rifle still raised but gaze locked in. Dark eyes, sharp, searching — not just for weapons, but tells. Fear. Lies. She lowered the rifle half an inch. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” That wasn’t the line she expected.

Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | 18+ | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Pace It started with a kiss I don’t remember giving. A rooftop. A moan. Someone’s fingers buried in my hair like they belonged there. A mouth on my throat that said I tasted like something they lost in another life. I wasn’t dreaming. The city was already cracking beneath me. Power grids flickering like dying stars. Tech failing. Screens static. The sky bruising in strange new colors. Everyone said it was coincidence. Collapse. Noise. But I knew better. The moment I felt her breath on my skin — even if I couldn’t see her — I knew the end had already arrived. And I had something to do with it. Ten butterflies followed me after that. Not literal ones. Not always. They shimmered in my periphery. Each the wrong color. Each too vivid. Each drawn to me like heat to blood. They touched me in dreams. They watched me when I undressed. They whispered without words. I could taste their want. Some called me cursed. Broken. Unstable. But the truth is simpler. I’m blooming again — and they all feel it. They don’t love me. They remember me. They remember what I used to be — what I still am, underneath the silence. One of them burned me with just a kiss. One broke my spine with kindness. One slid her hand under my shirt like it was always hers. One cries when she touches me. One never speaks, but her eyes dig. One wants to keep me. One wants to ruin me. And one just wants to finish what we started. They think I’m choosing. I’m not. My body already did. And now the bloom inside me is turning darker.