even though she can not speak

While Chelsea is free, she STILL needs our support.

Please, keep in mind that even though she is free, she is still under the army, which means she can be back to prison for any petty reason such as writing/speaking something that the army does not particularly like.  

 She’ll remain on active duty, though unpaid, on what’s known as “voluntary excess leave.” That means that she’ll be required to abide by military rules – and if she breaks any of them, the military would have authority to punish her.

Also, she is still in the middle of her appeal to ultimately drop all the charges against her.

SHE WAS NOT PARDONED. Her sentence was commuted, so she is free, but still under the weight of her charges. So please keep an eye open.

Also, she deserves way more pepperoni on that slice of pizza, js.

The bad ass historical women we need to remember this month.

It’s officially Women’s History Month, which means it’s time to celebrate the many accomplishments that are so often looked over throughout the rest of the year.

Nellie Bly - Nellie Bly entered the journalism scene in an unabashedly feminist way, by submitting a letter to The Pittsburgh Dispatch that rebutted one writer’s diatribe about how women belonged in the home. An editor saw Bly’s potential and hired her in 1885. Just two years later, Bly famously posed as a mental patient on Blackwell’s Island for a New York World expose; a few years after, she that took a record-setting, 72-day trip around the world, writing about it for the same paper.

Agent 355 - Long before 007, there was 355. History books would do well to liven their account of the American Revolution by mentioning this member of the Culper Spy Ring, America’s first elite spy network. One of George Washington’s most valuable spies, the woman known only as “Agent 355” was likely the only one who could rock an evening gown while gathering information critical to the colonies’ achieving independence. 

Murasaki Shikibu - Little is known about the Japanese author credited with writing the world’s first modern novel, The Tale of Genji, other than that she certainly overcame plenty of obstacles to do so. Even her name is an invention, drawn from one of the novel’s characters and the author’s father’s job, according to Encyclopaedia Brittanica. Not only was Shikibu educated — a rarity for women at any point for most of history, but especially around the year 1010 — but she also became literate in both Japanese and Chinese.

Maria W. Stewart - Though her name is (unfortunately) not one often included in history books, Stewart can claim plenty of impressive firsts. She was the first American woman to speak to an audience of mixed genders and races, as well as one of the first African American woman to deliver any public speech at all.

Pauli Murray - Pauli Murray wore many hats, and each one was equally impressive. Murray became a civil rights lawyer in the late 1940s, a particularly impressive feat given that women in general, let alone black women, had been prohibited from becoming lawyers only decades before.

Read more about these women and 5 others we must never forget.

Now, remember, one of the plots in the earlier films was the telepathic communication between my sister and me,” Hamill said. “So I thought, Carrie will sense that Han is in danger and try to contact me. And she won’t succeed, and, in frustration, she’ll go herself. Then we’re in the situation where all three of us are together, which is one of my favorite things in the original film, when we were on the Death Star. It’s just got a fun dynamic to it. So I thought it would have been more effective, and I still feel this way, though it’s just my opinion, that Leia would make it as far as she can, and, right when she is apprehended, maybe even facing death—Ba-boom! I come in and blow the guy away and the two of us go to where Han is facing off with his son, but we’re too late. The reason that’s important is that we witness his death, which carries enormous personal resonance into the next picture. As it is, Chewie’s there, and how much can you get out of [passable Chewbacca wail] ‘Nyaaarghhh!’ and two people who have known Han for, what, 20 minutes?
—  Mark Hamill Speaking The Actual Truth jfc in Vanity Fair

Let’s talk about an Ariel who walks away—limping, mouthing inaudible sailors’ curses, a sea-brine knife in her belt.

Ariel traded her voice for a chance to walk on land. That was the deal: every time she steps, it will feel like being stabbed by knives. She must win the hand of her one true love, or she will die at his wedding day, turn to sea foam, forgotten. The helpful steward tells her to dance for the prince, even though her feet scream each time she steps. Love is pain, the sea witch promised. Devotion calls for blood.

But how about this? When the prince marries another, nothing happens. When Ariel stands over the prince and his fiance the night before their wedding, her sisters’ hard-won knife in hand, she doesn’t decide his happiness is more important than her life. She decides that his happiness is irrelevant. Her curse does not turn on the whims of this boy’s heart. 

She does not throw away the knife and throw herself into the sea. She does not bury it in the prince and break her curse—it would not have broken. She leaves them sleeping in what will be their marriage bed and limps into a quiet night, her knife clean in her belt, her heart caught in her throat. Her feet scream, but they ache, too, for the places she has yet to see. 

Ariel will not be sea foam or a queen. There is life beyond love. There is love in just living. Her true love will not be married on the morn—the prince will be married then, in glorious splendor, but he had never been why she was here.

Ariel traded her voice for legs to stand on, a chance at another life. When she poked her head above the waves, it wasn’t the handsome biped that she fell for. It was the way the hills rolled, golden in the sun. It was the clouds chasing each other across blue sky, like sea foam you could never reach.

(She does reach it, one day, bouncing around in the back of a blacksmith’s cart, signing jokes to him in between helping to tune his guitar. They crest up a high mountain pass and into the belly of a cloud. Her breath whistles out, swirls water droplets, and she reaches out a hand to touch the sky. Her feet will scream all her life, but after that morning they ache just a little bit less). 

I want an Ariel who is in love with a world, not a prince. I don’t want her to be a moral for little girls about what love is supposed to hurt like, about how it is supposed to kill you. Ariel will be one more wandering soul, forgotten. Her voice will live in everything she does. She uses her sisters’ knife to turn a reed into a pipe. She cannot speak, but she still has lungs. 

Love is pain, says the old man, when Ariel smiles too wide at sunrises. It’s pain, says the innkeeper, with pity, as Ariel hobbles to a seat, pipe in hand. At least you are beautiful, soothes the country healer who looks over her undamaged feet. The helpful steward had thought she was shy. Dance for the prince even though your feet feel stuck with a hundred knives.

Her feet feel like knives but she goes out dancing in the grass at midnight anyway. She’s never seen stars before. Moonlight reaches down through the depths, but starlight fractures on the surface. Ariel dances for herself.

She goes down to caves and rocky shores. Sometimes she meets with her sisters there. Mouths filled with water cannot speak above the sea, so she drops into the waves and they sing to her, old songs, and she steals breaths of air between the stanzas. She can drown now. She holds her breath. She opens her eyes to the salt and brine. 

Ariel uses canes and takes rides on wagons filled with hay, chickens, tomatoes—never fish. She earns coins and paper scraps of money with a conch shell her youngest sister swam up from the depths for her, with her reed pipe, with a lyre from her eldest sister which sounds eerie and high out of the water. The shadow plays she makes on the walls of taverns waver and wriggle like on the sea caves of her childhood, but not because of water’s lap and current. It is the firelight that flickers over her hands. 

When she has limped and hitched rides so far that no one knows the name of her prince’s kingdom, she meets a travelling blacksmith on the road with an extra seat in his cart and an ear for music. He never asks her to dance for him and she never does. She drops messages in bottles to her sisters, at every river and coastline they come to, and sometimes she finds bottles washed up the shore just for her. 

They travel on. When she breathes, these days, her lungs fill with air.

Some nights she wakes, gasping, coughing up black water that never comes. There is something lying heavy on her chest and there always will be.

Somewhere in the ocean, a sea witch thinks she has won. When Ariel walks, she hobbles. Her voice was the sunken treasure of the king’s loveliest daughter, and so when they tell Ariel’s story they say she has been robbed. They say she has been stolen. 

She has many instruments because she has many voices—all of them, hers; made by her hands, or gifted from her sisters’ dripping ones. Ariel will sing until the day she dies with every instrument but her vocal cords. 

She cannot win it back, the high sweet voice of a merchild who had never blistered her shoulders red with sun, who had never made a barroom rise to its feet to sing along to her strumming fingers. She cannot ever again sing like a girl who has not held a dagger over two sleeping lovers and then decided to spare them. She decided not to wither. She decided to walk on knives for the rest of her life. She cannot win it back, but even if she could, she knows she would not sound the same. 

They call her story a tragedy and she rests her aching feet beside the warming hearth. With every new ridge climbed, new river forded, new night sky met, her feet ache a little less. They call her a tragedy, but the blacksmith’s donkey is warm and contrary on cold mornings. The blacksmith’s shoulder is warm under her cheek.

Her feet will always hurt. She has cut out so many parts of her self, traded them up, won twisted promises back and then twisted them herself. She lives with so many curses under her skin, but she lives. They call her story a moral, and maybe it is.

When she breathes, her lungs fill. When she walks, the earth holds her up. There is sun and there is light and she can catch it in her hands. This is love. 

Give me Sirius Black and a Slytherin

Originally posted by it-is-just-the-begining

  • Give me Sirius Black and a Slytherin
  • Give me a girl that confuses him from the start
  • Because she looks like money and prejudice but talks better trash than everyone in the room
  • Give me a girl that Sirius can’t ignore, because even though she’s a Slytherin, and a pure blood
  • she still makes him twitch when she looks at him and bites her lip
  • Give me a girl that Sirius fights with just so that he can stand close to her
  • A girl that cheats on exams and lets her minions do her dirty work
  • A girl that only speaks words with hard, blunt edges
  • A girl that’s everything he hates and somehow all he wants, too
  • A girl that, for all her arrogance, is brave enough to look evil in the eye and smile
  • Brave enough to stay in a poisonous, terrifying world because she knows that’s where she can make a difference
  • Because there are innocent people trapped in that world that she needs to protect
  • A girl that will catch him off guard in the night, and with a wand to his neck pass him information that could win the war
  • A girl that will kiss like a firework and leave before he can say goodbye
  • A girl that will show him there is both light and dark inside us all
okay but

when rowan finally gets to aelin, and she’s probably locked inside the coffin without any hope of ever getting out, so completely battered and broken physically but content because she knows she did everything possible to give her people, her court, her family a chance, 
and then suddenly she hears some kind of inhuman roar through the iron box that muffles almost all noise, but somehow this sound is loud enough to still hurt her ears even through the box,
and screeching as someone physically rips open the box, and she can smell copious amounts of blood in the air and the entire cadre is there, summoned by Rowan for the break in a day earlier and using all of their strength to save the queen they want to serve from the one they deplore,
and they shakily lift her out of the coffin but she can’t even be grateful because Rowan’s not  t h e r e, and if he’s not with them he must be hurt and oh  g o d s what if he’s dead, and she’s starting to lose it because she can handle whippings and beatings and torture but she can’t handle her mate being gone, not having been able to save him–
and then there’s a shriek nearby and suddenly he’s there, her mate is there, in the same room as her, cut and bruised and limping but alive, and with him is Maeve, but something is different and–oh gods, her neck is broken, her mate killed the woman who has starred in every one of her nightmares for the last year, the ones that didn’t end when she woke up, when the pain from the bone deep injuries pulled her out of brief unconsciousness, her magic unable to heal so many extensive injuries, and not in an iron box, iron shavings sprinkled onto her tattered skin after her session every day before she could be returned to the coffin, Maeve is DEAD she’s finally gone, and aelin lets out the smallest sound of relief,
and then rowan is next to her, snatching her out of his brothers’ arms quickly, but so carefully, tears building up in his eyes at the sight of her in so much pain, shaking with rage at quite how much blood and muscle is visible,
and her mouth starts to move, and she wants to apologize for not telling him about the mating bond and for sacrificing herself and not telling him, but he can see it in her face and cocks his head in the way she knows means don’t you dare apologize, Fireheart and gods she has missed this effortless communication, and Rowan, everything about Rowan, her husband and consort and mate,
and they’re both grasping each other tightly to assure that they’re real, because Rowan has seen his mate’s face day in and day out in battle strategy discussions next to Aedion and in the nightmares that never seem to end, and Aelin never thought this suffering would end but he’s here, he came for her even though they both knew he shouldn’t have, and she can’t stop looking at him, at that face she loves, and then he turns to face her directly and for a moment she thinks she’s seeing double–but no, there’s that scar above his left eyebrow, so the only thing that makes sense is–
“You got a new tattoo.” her voice is quiet and hoarse, but still so unequivocally Aelin, and he wants to both laugh and sob into her because of course, of course that’s the first thing she notices, the first thing she says to him, the first thing his mate says to him after being apart for a year, so he nods and clears his throat,
“I–our story needed to be represented there too. I mentioned the idea to Fenrys the morning you–the morning after our ceremony. And then you were gone, and…” his throat felt swollen shut, but he continued speaking. “and then it seemed only right that you had a place next to Lyria’s, even though I hadn’t learned my lesson and…” he trails off, but she can read the “failed you, failed you both but here again Maeve went right by me and I failed you
“Buzzard,” she says, and she could tell him all the same with her eyes and her face but after so long of nothing escaping her mouth but screams, it feels so good to talk, “I can’t have you taking credit for my abduction when we both know I’m simply too clever of a mastermind for you to have realized what was happening. And you’re here now, and that…I could never have asked it of anyone. You came.”
“Of course I came,” he can’t stop looking at her, hands still wrapped gingerly around her emaciated frame, and if he hadn’t already rutting killed Maeve and Carn he would lose it right now at feeling her ribs poking at skin where there used to be layers of muscle. “I’m not just anyone.” his voice cracks, and he so so hates displays of emotion and mushiness but he needs her to hear it, to know. “I love you, Fireheart. You’re going to have to get used to the idea that I’m never going to let you go if we’re going to be mated for the rest of both of our fae lifespans.”
and she’s laughing and crying, because of course she is, and this arrogant, territorial male is hers for all of that time, and she wants to ask after Aedion and Lysandra and Elide and Dorian and Chaol and Nesryn and the thirteen, but she knows he wouldn’t leave them defenseless for anything, and her mate is here and he knows he’s her mate and gods is she so glad to have the ridiculous buzzard in her life.
He gets her out of the dungeon, out of the palace and she can feel him tense when they get into the sunlight and the iron in her wounds is visible, and he starts to growl but restrains himself when the sound makes her cower the tiniest bit, and he presses his lips to her temple but she can feel the wind delicately removing the tiny metal bits from her back, and her magic slowly, slowly starts to knit the skin back together, cell by cell, and then she’s in a featherbed sleeping finally because she knows there’s no way in hell he will take his eyes off of her for the next century, and a few hours later she opens her eyes because something thumps onto the deck of the ship, and she startles and clenches her fists because they must have found her, but then her door is thrown open and Lysandra is there, running to her with tremendous sobs, and she can smell the cadre in the hallway, and Chaol runs in too, but they’re both thrown out of the way by a volatile Aedion, and she knows something must be wrong because Dorian and Manon and Elide aren’t there, oh gods not Dorian, and she knows well enough that war comes with sacrifices, but it was supposed to be her, not her book loving best friend, and of her a moment they’re all crying together before Lysandra pulls a sealed envelope from her pocket, addressed to her in that regal script, and she bursts out laughing because of course he left her a note, of course he’s going to tell her he chose this, it’s so very Dorian, 
and she spends days like this, crying and laughing and healing and trying not to flinch at every noise and voice, wrapped in Rowan’s arms and catching up on hundreds of hours of sleep deprivation, until one morning he’s shaking her and she groans in opposition, but he pulls her to her feet and helps her to the deck, and her breath catches because she can smell it already–pine and snow and love and happiness and oh gods, they’re finally–
“Home,” Rowan breathes in her ear. “We’re home, Fireheart.”

We Are Young: Chapter 1

Throne of Glass High School AU

Summary: Senior Rowan Whitethorn is new to town. It doesn’t take him long to get use to a new school, make new friends, even join the local hockey team. But it also doesn’t take him long to meet sophomore and figure skater Aelin Galathynius. And it doesn’t take him long to realize one thing; he can’t stand her.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter 

——————–

“Coach is going to kill you.”

Aelin had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. She glanced over at Nehemia, but the dark skinned beauty was too busy backing into a parking spot of the school parking lot to pay her any attention.

Uncle Orlon,” The car came to a stop and Aelin sent Nehemia another pointed look - “Isn’t going to kill me for added a little extra sugar in my coffee.” A pause. “Uncle Weylan might though.”

“There are several things wrong with your statement,” Lysandra spoke up from the back of the car. She leant forward to look at herself in the rearview mirror, fixing her hair as she spoke. “One, you got a gingerbread latte and added three extra packets of sugar. I wouldn’t call that ‘a little’. And two,” Lysandra turned, sending Aelin a deadly smile. “Coach Weylan will definitely kill you when he finds out.”

If he finds out.” Aelin smirked, taking a big sip of her over sugared drink.

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anyone wanna talk abt how nina and kuwei absolutely remain close friends to this day and visit each other in ravka regularly because i know in my heart this is true

  • nina gets what it’s like to be on your own in a foreign country trying to accomplish a seemingly-impossible task, and having her check in every so often is a huge help for kuwei settling into his new life there
  • they’re the most multilingual of all their friends and bond over this.  nina doesn’t get many opportunities to practice shu even though she speaks it fluently, and although kuwei speaks passable ravkan, he improves a lot faster from speaking to nina without the added pressure of having to do anything other than talk.
  • both of them religiously pick up bits of gossip and remember all of it and have at least an hour sharing all of it every time they meet (mostly nina.  kuwei likes keeping things to himself so he can use it if he ever has to.  but sometimes he’ll tell her something and nina’s eyes go wide because there’s no way kuwei should know that.)  between the two of them, they know what’s going on with everyone at any given time and have also been known to discuss this in earshot of whoever they’re talking about by switching languages so nobody can prove it
  • when inej comes to visit nina, the three of them go for waffles.  afterwards, inej and nina take turns teaching each other the rowdiest sea shanties they know and kuwei looks on with a mixture of confusion, amusement, and horror, because neither of them can carry a tune and there are some lyrics he wishes he didn’t understand.  (he’s totally memorising them for later, though.)  they’re so happy and enthusiastic about it that after a while it’s hard not to give up and laugh
  • both of them also know what it’s like to lose someone you care about and to have to move on and make a life for yourself regardless.  it’s not something either of them talks about a lot but sometimes, a good number of years in the future, they will.  nina tells him about matthias, about the future they were going to make together and how they were going to change the world.  the work she’s still trying to do on her own.  the promise she made to try and help the younger drüskelle who could become something more, like matthias did.  kuwei doesn’t need to say a lot to that, mostly just listens, but he’s seen how much nina’s accomplished in the years since the ice court job and matthias’ death and all of the good she’s done.  
  • he especially doesn’t have a lot to say about his life before fjerda and ketterdam, not a lot of it is things he wants to remember, but he was close with his father even if their relationship wasn’t perfect and sometimes there’s something to say about that.  about how it might have been better for the world if it was his father who survived shu han, how kuwei could have done something to help them escape if it wouldn’t have exposed him as a grisha to the fjerdans.  i could have brought matthias back, nina says quietly.  i almost did.  sometimes letting go is better.  
  • the potential with these two is honestly so underrated and i feel like we as people need to talk about it more

bonus:

  • nina: wake up, i have a huuuuge dilemma i need your opinion on!  
  • kuwei: what?  
  • nina: am i more beautiful today than i was yesterday?  i mean at first i looked in the mirror and i thought well, yes, definitely, huge improvement–  
  • kuwei: can i have my pillow back?  
  • nina: –but then i thought maybe it’s not that i’m more beautiful today, maybe i was just as beautiful yesterday but i lacked the self-esteem to recognise it!  
  • kuwei: don’t take this personally but get out
My headcanon of how the reylo cliff scene will play out.

Ahch-to, sixth months after the destruction of Starkiller base…

“You’ve been busy,” Rey shouts over the violent sea wind that swirls in the space between them. “Did you find what you’ve been looking for?”

“You know I have, Scavenger.” Kylo Ren ignites his lightsaber at his side and its unstable crackle seems to drown everything out. Rey doesn’t reach for her own lightsaber, which is still secured to her belt. She stands her ground, waiting for him to come at her. She appraises the jagged scar that bisects his face, feeling a quick burst of pride at finally seeing her handiwork.

“I’m here for your master,” even though he speaks quietly, his words swirl through her head across the distance between them.

“I have no master.” Rey juts her chin out defiantly, knowing he won’t expect this.

He arches a single eyebrow, his head almost imperceptibly twitches towards the temple at the top of the island as his hair whips around his face from a massive gust of wind. He knows they can both feel Luke’s force signature up there, tucked away. Hiding like the coward he is.

“How did you find us?” She shouts at him, fists clenched at her side, itching for a fight and waiting for him to make the first move.

‘You know how.’ His lips don’t move but his words fill her head nonetheless. Her jaw clenches tightly, teeth grinding together at the invasion of her mind. At this close proximity, it is impossible to keep him out. Just as it is impossible for him to keep her out of his own mind.

‘You call out for me every night. It is all I can hear, all I can feel. You consume my entire being, your longing drives me to the brink of insanity.’ His thoughts are again forcibly pushed into her mind. The invasion of his words is excruciatingly warm and soft as his presence ripples along the edge of her mind.

“Enough!” She yells, hand finally going to her lightsaber. She draws it and lights it in one swift arcing motion, the cool blue glow pooling around her. ‘You know it isn’t me that’s calling for you.’ She adds as an afterthought, almost not meaning to send the thought to him. Only when his expression darkens does she realize he heard it too.

“So you think it is our bond alone that calls to me?” He is talking out loud now, approaching her at a steady pace. His upsilon class shuttle left empty behind him, awaiting the return of its pilot. “You think it’s the bond that whispers my name feverishly in its sleep?” His lightsaber is still dangling in a lazy grip at his side.

They are closer now, only a few aching meters between them. Rey stands her ground, gripping her lightsaber in a fighting stance despite the fact that he has yet to raise his.

“The bond that is practically singing now that we are finally together again?” He almost sounds hopeful. The hard affection in his voice makes her stomach turn over. She thinks of Han tumbling from the walkway on Starkiller. She thinks of the last time she saw Finn, unconscious and kept alive by machines. She thinks of Poe slumped in a chair at Finn’s bedside, whimpering in his sleep, nightmares of having his mind torn to shreds keeping him from getting any rest.

“The bond that is just another in a long list of atrocities committed by you,” she hisses at him, palms sweating against the warm metal of her lightsaber. She adjusts her grip.

“Oh, my dear Scavenger,” his lips peel back from his teeth in a grim smile, he shakes his head as if he regrets it, “you are so, so mistaken. This bond is your doing.” He sounds so confident and sure that it causes her to hesitate. He feels the doubt sinking into her and latches on to it. “You’ve known all along, you just don’t want to admit it to yourself. You pushed back into my mind.” He reaches up with his free hand and taps his left temple. “You created this connection with your clumsy and amateur fumbling into my head.”

“Liar!” She regrets the word as soon as she shouts it at him, he can see her weakness now. Her anger.

Her accusation seems to encourage him even more, his grim smile transforming into a more genuine one, which is the scariest she has ever seen him look. He looks as if he is a predator sensing an opening, ready to pounce on its prey.

“This is why you need me to teach you, you are too powerful for your own good.”

“I have a teacher,” she responds sharply, trying to school the tone of her voice into something calmer and more even.

He raises an eyebrow at this.

“A teacher,” she clarifies, “not a master.” Luke’s words to her when she had first arrived on Ahch-to float through her mind and she knows that Kylo can hear it as well. ‘It’s time for the Jedi to end.’

“Whatever you call him,” Kylo shakes his head as if to forcibly remove the voice from his mind, “I am here to destroy him.”

“You will have to go through me,” she straightens her back, preparing for him to come at her with that red abomination of a blade. He narrows his eyes. He can’t understand why Luke isn’t here, why would he send his student out to face Kylo alone? Surely he knows that there is no way she could best him in a fight when he is at his full strength as he is now.

“No, I need you alive,” he responds in a tightly controlled voice, still not making a move with his ignited lightsaber. The saber spits and hisses like it is dying for its chance to maim and destroy.

“You need me alive or your master does?” Rey knows it probably isn’t wise to taunt him.

“I do. I need you alive,” Kylo brings his fist up to slam against his own chest, she isn’t sure if she is indicating himself or his heart when he hits his left side. “Snoke wants you dead.” The treason falls from his lips and he is quaking with the release of it. The traitorous thoughts that have been broiling inside of him all this time are finally voiced.

“Then why not kill me?” She is whispering, she knows he can hear her perfectly fine even though the wind eats up her words as they spill out of her mouth.

‘You know why.’ His expression softens.

White-hot anger burns through her, at first she thinks it is coming from his end of the bond, but then she realizes it is from within her. An untapped well of anger is overflowing and tearing through her entire body, threatening to engulf her. Anger at him. Anger at herself.

She makes the first move, charging towards him with her saber in a two handed grip. He barely has time to wipe the startled look from his face and bring his own saber up into a defensive position. Their blades crackle viciously as they come together and she pulls back again to hack at him. She has practiced lightsaber forms tirelessly since Starkiller, she can be graceful and precise. Right now, she is a violent and angry creature trying with single-minded determination to cut him down. In the back of his mind he acknowledges this is the most beautiful she has ever looked to him.

It is all he can do to block her attacks without going on the offensive. She is backing him towards a cliff that drops off into the tumultuous sea below. He thinks about reaching into her mind and stealing her consciousness as he has done before, but he can’t muster the concentration necessary as she rains strike after strike down on him at a relentless pace.

His heels scrabble against the edge of the cliff and he dodges her last blow, sidestepping her and hoping she catches herself before she tumbles over the edge. She doesn’t. He reaches out with the force to try and stop her fall but it is too late, she has already disappeared over the edge.

He leans over the cliff, stomach twisted into a knot. He knows she didn’t die on impact because he can feel her life force still connected to his. A dark figure is sinking beneath the waves below.

Without another thought, he drops his disengaged lightsaber in the grass and dives after her.

The water is ice cold and the current is unforgiving as he tries to locate her. He unclasps his cloak and kicks it away, the heavy fabric is dragging him down and only helping the water as it tugs him in every direction other than towards Rey. He sucks in one last breath and dives.

The silence beneath the waves is terrifying. He has grown so used to catching glimpses of Rey’s random thoughts and emotions since they forged their bond that the lack of her incessant inner monologue is deafening. He finally catches sight of her, she is slowly drifting downwards. His grandfather’s lightsaber is sinking like a rock beneath her almost as if it sacrificed the heavy weight it bore to allow her to hang suspended in the murky water.

Her hair has been jostled loose from the tight buns and is fanned around her. He calls out to her mind, not with words but instead with a sense of urgency and panic. There is no answering feeling from her end of their connection.

He kicks towards her and wraps an arm around her waist. Her body is limp and arches backwards as he drags her to the surface. His pulse is pounding in his ears so loudly that it feels like it is the heartbeat of the ocean itself.

When they finally breach the surface he smooths her tangled hair back and pats her face with his sopping leather gloved hand. He pulls her head up, cupping her cheek.

“Scavenger,” he murmurs, “Rey, wake up.” He lets his forehead fall onto hers, trying to delve into her mind. It is silent, so terrifyingly silent. He can’t take it. Even when she sleeps he can hear her, or at least get an impression of her feelings. The nothingness is all consuming and far too cold.

The waves are still swirling around them and tossing them like a wayward piece of flotsam but Kylo clings to her as if she is the one keeping them afloat.

After too many painful moments, she splutters and the violent coughing fit is the best sound he has ever heard. He grips her waist tighter and slides her up his chest, making sure she is above the water and can gulp down the precious air she has been lacking. Her legs instinctively wrap around his waist and her grip is like iron on his shoulders.

“I’ve got you,” he soothes a hand down her lower back and she is still gasping desperately, a dead weight in his arms. Of course she wouldn’t know how to swim. It’s only by the grace of the force lending him strength that he is able to tread water for so long and hard enough to keep them both alive.

She looks down at him, startled, realizing finally where she is. She yanks back from him and he tightens his grip on her, not willing to let her fall back beneath the water. Not willing to admit how complete he feels holding her after so much time spent skimming along her mind, capturing the pathetic scraps of thought and emotion she would drop for him.

“I’ve got you,” he repeats in the same soothing voice, but this time it isn’t a reassurance for her and is instead a declaration of victory. She finally sags into his arms, the tension leaving her body, trusting him to keep them afloat. She buries her face into his drenched hair.

“I know,” she whispers.

anonymous asked:

now all i want is sana telling isak about yousef and talking to him about her crush because she feels like she cant talk about it to the girls someone please write the fic!!!

oh man!! yes i can see this so clearly. isak probably has sana over to study all the time, and she hardly ever says no. they’re the kind of friends who can actually get studying done together, and that’s rare, and honestly, sometimes hanging out with isak and even is way less exhausting than hanging out with the girls. there are too many expectations there, and she’s constantly reminded that she’ll never be that carefree. she never thought she’d enjoy being the third wheel to a guy she used to dismiss as a fuckboy and her brother’s one weird white friend, but here she is, doing her homework on their floor because their only table had collapsed yet again. even claims that ikea instructions can be confusing as hell, but sana thinks they’re both just idiots.

(the next time she’s coming over, she’s just going to bring a screwdriver that actually fits, she swears they actually get a kick out of living in a barely functional home, because they think it’s romantic.)

isak and sana are both kind of mumbling to themselves, trying to work through a particularly hard problem before they compare answers, when even calls out from the kitchen that it’s dinnertime. isak casually asks sana to stay, and he’ll keep asking, even though she always goes home then. to his surprise, she actually says yes after letting out a sigh, and when he tilts his head, she says, “i can’t go home, my brother has friends over.”

Keep reading

Aaliyah .

It’s getting late, now.

The dishes are washed and all the lights in the apartment have been switched off, save for the ones in your bedroom, and the ones in the guest room. Shawn’s guitar is resting on it’s stand in the corner and all the blankets have been folded back up, draped over the couch neatly. And although his instrument has retired for the night, music still lilts through the apartment as Shawn’s humming resonates through the rooms, and you can hear each note from your spot on the guest bed, listening to Aaliyah chat about her school.

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‘i can’t help but want’ epilogue

i wrote a short little piece for @legendarydesvender for her birthday. i’d just released this fic when we started talking, and i still remember fondly that she doodled a little spock!keith for me during the livestream that we met in. happy birthday sven!! you’re lovely and wonderful and make me laugh every single day  💖💖💖

keith/lance (2112 words) 

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Getting to Know Reiya

AO3 profile

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If you’ve been in the Yuri on Ice fandom for a long time now, then I bet you’ve already heard of Reiya. She is the author of the highly acclaimed Rivals series on AO3. The series’ first fic, entitled Until my Feet Bleed and my Heart Aches, is the YOI fic with the most number of kudos and hits.

Reiya ( @kazliin ) even has her own group of dedicated readers, who form a sub-fandom within the YOI fandom. Her blog is proof of that–being comprised of replies to the variety of asks she receives daily, different posts about the Top Ten’s of Yuuri and of Viktor in the Rivals world, reblogs of different fanarts and fanvids about her stories, and a whole lot more.

Any fan of Reiya would take pleasure in scrolling down her blog. From it, they can know some exclusive facts about her writings, like where she gets ideas, which of the two fics in the series was harder for her to write, and others. But with the plenty of asks Reiya answers each week, such facts get buried away in her blog and could never be seen again (unless you’ve decided to devote yourself in searching through each of the pages, which would probably take hours.)

Therefore, this post has been made to compile some of the basic stuff that everyone needs to know about their favorite writer. Learn more about Reiya and her works right under the cut.

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Five Times Chat Noir Failed at Flirting and One Time He Didn’t

Written for Day 13 of Marichat May. Sin comes from a Greek word that apparently also means missing the mark. So, this fic is Chat Noir missing the mark.

Thank you @agrestenoir for helping to come up with this idea.


Things had been a little awkward since the day Chat Noir and Ladybug learned each other’s identities. They still worked well together as a team, and they still saw each other every day, but something was different. Marinette was still friendly as ever, and Ladybug still joked around, but it wasn’t quite the same. She was all business during akuma attacks, and she hardly spoke to him after they detransformed. The more he considered it, the more he realized it all happened the day she found out he was Chat Noir.

The only way that made sense was if, for some reason, Marinette didn’t like him. Either Adrien him or Chat Noir him. Either option was confusing, given that she was always friendly to Chat Noir and Adrien alike, but it was the only thing that made sense.

Plus, it was something he could possibly correct if he tried hard enough. After all, they were partners and friends, which had to mean something.

So, when he saw her walking home alone late at night, he was only too happy to greet her.

“Hey, princess,” Chat Noir called down to Marinette. “Need a lift?”

She jumped and turned to look up at him. “Chat Noir? What are you doing out here?”

He dropped down beside her. “Well, I was just doing a little solo patrolling. What are you doing out so late?”

“I was just walking home from school. Alya and I were working on our history project together.” She frowned. “Why are you out patrolling alone? I could have joined you.”

“I… well…” He shrugged. “I was actually just getting some fresh air. You look like you could use an escort, though.”

She snorted. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” He winked. “ It would be my purrleasure-”

She shook her head, her grip on her schoolbooks tightening. “You should head home, Adrien. We’ll be patrolling tomorrow anyway.”

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Okay….. I am tired of seeing one-dimensional characterizations of Belarus and I know that happens with all characters to some extent, but it is particularly bad with her. So here are some cool facts I found about Belarus that make her a more round character:

-she is really into the occult and is a great fortune teller

-she can see ghosts but Latvia says she’s so intimidating even ghosts would avoid her

-she may or may not speak Polish

-she zones out all the time. Her mind will just go blank and she’ll stare at something (like her bow) for hours on end. One time she watched white noise on tv for three hours. Occasionally she’ll have a jolt realization that the day has ended and night came without her noticing

-she is very strong, both physically and of heart and will, though the latter only shines through in negative ways

-she’s “extremely vulgar” in the calmest, most casual tone of voice

-she’s been into rock music lately

-she’s a good acrobat. Her gymnasium is her pride

-America took her in after the Soviet Union collapsed and she thought only bad things came from associating with Russia

-Russia values her opinion and /they can get along peacefully/. Belarus is pretty attached to Ukraine. Ukraine worries about her

-she has an EXTREMELY negative view of humans

-she thinks philosophically about death, specifically her own, a lot. Since she knows she will die eventually, she tries to appreciate the moment

-she loves her traditional clothing

-she is perpetually annoyed by American ghosts, who apparently don’t even bother hiding, like a normal ghost would

-she prank calls Lithuania. And you know that thing where someone calls you and doesn’t say anything, they just breathe into the phone? She does that to Poland

-when she lived with America she completely sapped that guy of all his endless energy; she made him so tired he started trying to get rid of her

imagine lily evans in gof when she speaks to her son for the first time in years.

she walks towards him, all too aware of the danger that surrounds them, but she can’t help drinking in his appearance; his trembling wand, his determined grass green eyes, his mussed hair, his look of utter wonder at her approach.

lily knows. lily knows that even though she has a lifetime of words she has waited to lavish on her son, there is no time, that her harry is in danger and she can save him.

“we will give you time…”

“you must get to the Portkey…”

“do you understand, harry?” 

and her heart breaks just a little more at his bewildered but resolved face, and inwardly she begs him to understand, that she loves him, that james loves him, that they wished so much to protect him, that he must protect himself now, that he is strong and she loves him and–

and then james whispers “do it now” and harry is running, he is running, and lily knows, she knows that he will live to defeat their enemy, and some day, some day they will meet again and then lily will tell him everything that went unspoken to her son at age fourteen.

Running Out of Time: Bellamy and His Feelings

Obviously, there was a lot to unpack from the Bellarke Beach Scene 2: Hugless Boogaloo, but what I thought was most interesting was what it tells us about Bellamy’s emotional status.  The line I think was most telling was It’s pathetic, right?  She hates me but I keep coming back for more because there’s just so much desolation in those two sentences, starting with it’s pathetic.  That line lands like a value judgment on himself– he is pathetic for still loving his sister, despite her hatred of him.  It also speaks to his feelings of helplessness, both with Octavia and with their larger situation: there is not a goddamn thing he can do to make his sister forgive him or stop the end of the world, but he’s still going to keep trying.  But even though he’s not giving up, he also sort of has– he’s given up on the idea of surviving, really.  He’s got faith in Clarke (and Raven), but the cynic inside of him keeps whispering there’s no surviving this so he’s decided he’s just going to do his best to make things right.

And where things stand right now, there’s two important people in his life: Clarke and Octavia.  Other people matter to him, of course, but those two women are his primary concern.  Things are pretty good with Clarke and pretty terrible with Octavia, so when faced with the choice of “where to go from here” he chooses Octavia because Bellamy doesn’t want to die with her hating him.  He knows that still might happen but he has to at least try to fix it, even if it seems pointless.  He could have chosen Clarke and gone over to Science Island and spent his last few weeks on earth with someone who trusts him and loves him and supports him, but that would mean sacrificing any chance to put things right with Octavia.

And make no mistake: Bellamy does not see them coming out of this alive.  He thinks this is the end, and that’s part of what is hanging over his head when he says it’s pathetic.  Because he’s not just talking about returning to Octavia for more abuse, he’s talking about how he’s spent the last nine months fighting to keep everyone alive, often at great cost to his own moral values, only for everyone to die anyway.  He hasn’t reached Jasper’s level of nihilism and I honestly doubt he will, but there is a certain fatalistic attitude leaking through in this scene that punches me in the gut.  He feels pathetic and pointless, and so all that’s left is to try and get his sister to love him before they die.

But there is one thing left to tell Clarke, and that’s how he feels about her.  Guys, when he says Clarke, if I don’t see you again, there’s really only one way to end that sentence.  He has made it clear he loves her through his actions time and time again– letting her go in 216, going after her in 302, telling her he doesn’t want to be angry with her in 313, trusting her in 315 and 316, being there for her at her absolute lowest in 403– but he’s never actually said it.  It’s literally the last thing left to do, and standing next to her on that beach, he really does think it could be the last time he sees her, and not just because of praimfaya.

It’s because over the course of the last few days, Bellamy has thought his sister died and watched their best hope for surviving the apocalypse go up in flames.  And in the course of the previous twelve hours, he thought Clarke was dead and/or that he would watch her die twice.  Clarke might not make it back before the radiation hits, or she might die from a stray arrow or an ambush or 400 other things that could go wrong.  He knows that life is uncertain in their world and he’s not sure he’ll ever see her again.  Thanks to Echo, Bellamy knows what it feels like when someone you love dies with things unsaid, so he steels himself for what is about to be a painful admission because he knows he loves her and he knows she loves him, but he also thinks Clarke doesn’t love him in the same way.  He’s not planning on telling her this because he thinks she’ll reciprocate, he’s planning on telling her he loves her because that’s all there is left to do.

But Clarke stops him.  First of all, guys, she fucking knows what he’s about to say.  They just spent an entire episode being Drift Compatible as fuck, and she just said she’ll see how special you are which is a weird fucking thing to say about someone’s sibling (I don’t really need to see how special my brother is; I  need to remind him of how we used to play chicken while sledding and I won every fucking time because he’s a goddamn chickenso you cannot tell me she would have been surprised if he said I love you.  Clarke was talking about her feelings for Bellamy here and pretending it was about Octavia because right now, feelings are painful for Clarke.  (If you’re special wasn’t a significant admission for Clarke she wouldn’t have broken eye contact after she said it.)  She’ll see how special you are is as close to I love you as Clarke can get at the moment, and I do think that if Bellamy was wavering (do I tell her I love her?  Or do I leave that unsaid because she’s not ready to hear it?) having Clarke tell him he matters was all he needed to decide.

Except Clarke sees where this is going and stops him, but not just because hearing Bellamy Blake say I love you when she’s still a tangled mess of grief and fear would be too much.  She stops him because she knows he’s saying it because he’s giving up hope, but she hasn’t yet.  She believes they can survive this so there’s no need for last minute love confessions.  In Clarke’s mind they have a future, and letting Bellamy say this might be the last time I see you so you need to know I love you is just too painful to contemplate.  Bellamy was ready to say goodbye, but Clarke isn’t.

I’m honestly not sure if Bellamy would have said it anyway if Roan hadn’t interrupted them.  He wasn’t looking convinced, at any rate, and I suspect if Roan hadn’t blown the Time Out From Feelings Whistle, Bellamy would have gone through with it.  Not because he doesn’t consider Clarke’s feelings important, but because he’s desperate.  This is it: the finish line is approaching, so make your peace and get ready for whatever comes next.

But Clarke didn’t stop Bellamy because she didn’t want to hear that he loves her; she stopped him because in her mind, there’s still time.  It wasn’t “If you love me I’d rather die not knowing,” it was “Please don’t say goodbye to me because I haven’t given up hope.”  Clarke is an expert at last-minute love confessions but she’s not ready to say they’ve reached that point.  She has hope that there will be time later to talk about this, so she doesn’t say I don’t want to hear it she says we’ll talk about this later.  Because Clarke has decided there will be a future for Bellamy, whether he believes in it or not.

anonymous asked:

Hi I noticed you're really into astrology so do you mind giving a rundown of all the rising signs and your experiences with them maybe? Thx

I would love to! I don’t have personal experience with all of them (that I know of) but I’ll try my best.

Aries rising: The only person I know with this placement is my aunt and she is undoubtedly the most energetic person in a room. It’s impossible to ignore her; she just lives life as if she’s in her 20s when in reality she’s almost 60. Like she has a fiery energy and it’s just unmistakable. She can be quick to anger, definitely though. If things don’t go her way then she most likely will hold a grudge until the other person apologizes. Nonetheless, I appreciate Aries risings’ childlike enthusiasm and willingness to start something new.

Taurus rising: I have yet to encounter any taurus rising, however, I do know many taurus suns and I’m sure there are a few things the two have in common. I’ve read that taurus risings are some of the most elegant, smooth people you know, and that they generally are easy to identify in a crowd. They’re probably more prone to wanting the life of luxury and give off a very comforting vibe. They’re not too out there yet they’re not extremely closed off either. Even though they may not be the loudest ones in a room, they don’t need to be because their presence speaks for itself.

Gemini rising: One of my good friends is one and this might be harder for me to answer. One thing I noticed was that she was, in my opinion, the easiest person to approach. I never felt the need hold back my expressions because I felt she was understanding enough to let me speak my mind. I would definitely say she observes much more than she speaks. This is one thing that stumped me. When I first found out she was one I almost couldn’t believe it because of how social and energetic they are often described. Not only that, but she generally is one of the first to go silent. I think she does appeal to the clever and open-mindedness that gemini risings offer, though. So even though she may not be under my definition, a standard gemini rising, I think they can be hard to pin down to one image considering their duality. I think many gemini risings could actually seem a tad bit intimidating, but generally a priority of theirs is to communicate. Like aries, they give off a very youthful impression.

Cancer rising: I have not met any in real life but once again I know quite a few cancer suns and I do find similarities in the two. Cancer risings most likely give off a very familiar vibe. They are most likely more quiet than most other risings and prefer to stay in their lane of comfort. Generally, they’re very sentimental. Their feelings can easily be expressed through facial expressions and they prefer to have security than to jump into new situations. They definitely give off a nurturing vibe and can easily feel the changing of their surroundings. Cancer risings have a hard shell and a very soft core.

Leo rising: Once again their presence is undeniable. They instantly make an impression and stand out due to their star-like qualities. Not all will be as outgoing, but they are definitely ambitious. They steer toward a very enthusiastic disposition and may also look for other people like them. They usually appear confident in themselves and may seem even a little bit entitled, but they are some of the most warm and big-hearted people around. They also may seem needy and overly self-conscious about how they appear to others, but overall their brightness is unmatchable.

Virgo rising: I know MANY virgo risings. All of them have shown a great amount of work ethic and may even become anxious if things aren’t picture-perfect. To many they seem quiet and critical, and perhaps a bit too opinionated, but they are genuinely some of the most caring. They live to serve others and they appear professional which is something quite admirable. They’re organized and very humble people. Their stress can be very worrisome, though. Their tendencies to pick on every little thing doesn’t only agitate the people around them, but themselves too. Virgo is ruled by mercury and like gemini communication is important, but virgo risings prefer looking at the details of situations rather than the big picture.

Libra rising: I do not know any libra risings, but as a libra sun, I can recognize the similarities. They radiate a sort of gentle aura. They are by far the most polite of the risings and value relationships the most. Like leo risings, libra risings can be very attached to their perceived image. Libra risings avoid conflict normally, and are very charming. They love to be around other people and love socializing but can get tired of the constant change in their personalities. They struggle with understanding their identity which is why they look to others. A lot may consider them shallow or fake upon first meetings, but this isn’t because a libra rising doesn’t have more in depth thoughts, it’s just not something they like to pay attention to. Libras are about harmony, and deep subjects can throw off the light, playful conversation libras enjoy most. They do not change themselves on purpose, necessarily. They just adapt to each new environment because it’s what makes them feel the most comfortable. They value the comfort of others the most, so when everyone else is comfortable, they are as well.

Scorpio rising: I know the most scorpio risings out of them all and they have very distinct qualities. They are known to be some of the most intimidating risings, whether they want to appear that way or not. The ones I have known all seemed very quiet to me at first and my first instinct is always to keep talking until they reply which is something they generally do not understand whatsoever considering their demeanor. People may be afraid of scorpio risings or intrigued because of their strong presence. Not all are extremely private, but they appear that way. They really don’t appreciate superficial people and they tend to feel many emotions but don’t like to openly reveal them. Not all are super shy, but when they speak they may want to cut to the chase rather than wasting their time on smalltalk. If a scorpio rising trusts you though there really should be no issue in communication.

Sagittarius rising: OBVIOUS when someone is one. One of my good friends is a sag rising and when I first met her I remember being completely thrown off by her. She was loud, open, and very in your face. She said pretty much everything that came to her mind and didn’t care about the feelings or opinions of others. She always appeared very humorous to me so I never took any of her comments to heart because I realized she treated everyone that way. So yes, sag risings can be extremely blunt, but never with bad intentions. They are very spiritual people and want to connect with something bigger than them generally. Once you understand them you can see that they are just very fun-loving people. They are some of the most optimistic people and they can be very generous and extravagant.

Capricorn rising: I don’t know any and I really am not familiar with many capricorn suns either so this may be difficult. From what I’ve heard, they tend to appear quite serious. Probably some of the most intimidating along with scorpio risings. They most likely seem invested in their work, are fairly organized, and like to achieve. Some people may describe them as quite shy or “awkward.” Some might even think they come off as boring because they generally guard themselves. They’re quite methodical and practical, but also very down-to-earth. They’re very thoughtful people overall.

Aquarius rising: I’m one as well as my sister and my father! Aquarius rising indicates that you are more than likely highly individualistic and appreciate the road not taken. Uniqueness is a large characteristic involving aquarius and generally we observe with impartiality and intellect. Aqua risings are very aware of their surroundings especially considering aquarius takes the community into consideration before themselves. Can be seen as the “weird” person in a group because of the efforts to rebel in any way possible. We’re huge humanitarians, and are known to be some of the most aloof. Aqua risings are regularly considered as the most detached and potentially standoffish. Also, aqua risings can look quite stubborn much like any other fixed sign. I’ve heard this is a placement where one can appear to be a mad scientist as well.

Pisces rising: They appear to be in their own world most of the time. They’re more social than the other water signs and adapt to environments with ease. Their creativity is unmatchable and even if they may come across shy sometimes, they most likely have a lot to say and aren’t reserved whatsoever. They express their thoughts more so with feelings than any other. Similar to libra and gemini, pisces risings do their own form of shape-shifting. So, their duality can confuse many. They are the most sensitive and openly expressive of their emotions. They have a fascination with the outer world and high powers due to pisces being ruled by both neptune and jupiter, both planets for higher power and learning. Pisces tends to be the most selfless, also. A fault of theirs is potentially coming across overly vulnerable or fragile. They’re very empathetic and dreamy people.

The fact that Eliza forgave for Alexander means so, so much. 

He cheated on her, broke her trust, and still continued to think only about himself  - ”[Teling everyone that he cheated on his wife] was an act of political sacrifice.”- Congratulations. - and yet, she forgives him.

They were both grieving, both could have reacted differently, and she forgives him. I believe it was some form of a coping method. Forgiving Alexander would make everything easier; they wouldn’t have to argue and they could learn to deal with everything together.

What I’m trying to say is: Eliza is a saint. If I were here, I would walk away from him and learn to cope with my sister, but she forgives him, lets him off for everything he had done.

She goes on to do so much more for him, even though he treated her awfully. 

”I interview every soldier who fought by your side.” - She tries to get to know the other, war-version, side of Alex.

“I try to make sense if your thousands of pages of writing.” - She tries to understand his trail of thought. She wants to understand him. She loved him with all her heart. She still after he cheated; she still did after he treated her awfully; she still did after his death.

 “I raise funds in D.C. for the Washington Monument.” - Washington felt like a father to Hamilton, even though the line “I’m not your son!” exists. You can not deny that they weren’t close. They were, and Eliza raises funds for him because of this.

“I speak out against slavery.” - This was something Alexander, and his other lover best friend, believed in strongly. This was something she believed in strongly. She fought against it for herself, for Alexander, for everyone’s freedom. She didn’t do all of this for Alexander; she did still have her own morals. She just tried to do the right thing, and that's one of the many reasons I love her.

“I established the first private orphanage in New York City.” - Alexander was an orphan, and she, obviously, knew that. She established this to help the kids, to stop children from having to deal with what Alexander went through. She knew how awful it was, she saw it in her husband, and she tries to help them through it. 

She helps so many (”I help raise hundreds of children.”) and the main, probably reason, was for Alexander’s legacy, something he always wanted.

anonymous asked:

Hey! New to simblr. What are your fave blogs? :D

Hello, welcome to the community! I’m turning this into a follow forever so prepare yourself for some bomb ass blogs. :) 

OUR-DAZED-SIMS FOLLOW FOREVER! ♥

I love everyone I follow, I followed them for the long run so they all made the list! :) 

PEOPLE I CONSIDER FRIENDS:

@geekmoodlet, @peasims, @simseternity, @neverloore, @nadehzdia, @pxelmango, @randomcoffeesimmer, @sim-bubble, @sim-tastic, @cat-nerd-sims, @loniden, @bonehlda, @theartofqueenie, @stephanine-sims, @lilleputtu, @sp00kyfruit, @dank-owski, @skadisim, @pink-tea, @cactuscreeks, @calexasims, @fadinqflame, @simatrix, @littlenettleheart, @wrixles, @simemi, @simnook, @sarrasims, @vicarious-sims, @mysteriousdane, @simlydarling, @sul-sul, @kiwisims4, @pixielated, @nolan-sims & @shysimblr ♥

THE REST, I WANNA BE FRIENDS HMU:

@tea-sims, @crazycupcakefr, @dewdropsimsie, @corruptedhoods, @kabunasims, @thefoxandhersimblr, @blarffy, @lovablebuffalo, @seafoamflamingo, @iridescencel, @scarletsundae, @rosieshideout, @seabubblee, @glitchysims, @inspiredmoodlet, @simsy-baby, @pearlescentsims, @butterscotchsims, @graentea, @sim-body, @sunnyfriendell, @citrontart, @theuniquepoutine, @vividlore, @crimsonsims, @foxbie, @nadinemaee, @malcolmlandgraab, @obisims, @cabsim, @publicwoohoo, @thecactus, @pxelbutt, @bekstie, @simmyhymns, @bratsims, @ivo-sims, @tophlair, @wanderlust-sims, @plentyofplumbobs, @wild-pixel, @banana-sims, @stargirl-sims, @treefish, @blushing-cherub, @midpoosimmer, @sunflower-sim, @pxlbobs, @ohare-lane, @loopysims, @brntwaffles, @laenyrie, @kleptosims, @penny-plumbob, @pixelateddust, @pxeldoll, @salsifychip, @pxelplants, @simduction, @sugarsweets93, @lumialoversims, & @wildlyminiaturesandwich

SPECIAL SHOUT OUTS:

@alwaysimming: Zoë has very quickly become my best friend in this community and I am ever so thankful for her, I’ve been able to tell her everything and her me, I appreciate her so much we speak every day and it’s great, I don’t think we could be anymore similar if we tried, I love you Zoë, truly I do, I can’t put into words how much you mean to me. 

@lilsimsie: Kayla and I have only interacted a few times but she’s lovely, and was actually my inspiration to start my own simblr, which I am so thankful to her for inspiring me to join this community because I’d be in a very different place in life if it wasn’t for her. Thank you Kayla, she was actually the first person I followed and I wouldn’t have it any other way, I hope we can be friends one day but I understand she’s super busy, but here’s hoping.

@dustflwr: My god I love Ashley, every time I see she’s streaming I drop whatever I’m doing and head straight over to it, I just really enjoy spending my time with her she’s so friendly and I admire her so much. 

@koffeecake: Maddy is so kind and sweet, she was nice enough to welcome me into her friendship group and even though I’m too nervous to speak she still invites me to join the Skype call every time and hangout playing Drawful and Town of Salem, I really appreciate Maddy.

@literallywhothe: I love you, bitch. I ain’t gon never stop loving you, bitch.

@blursims: Bre is amazing, it’s no secret she’s my all time favourite legacy and a really good friend, I love her.

@sandy-sims: She’s alright, I guess… No, what can I say about my wife that would even do her justice, I love Sandy, she’s been a constant great friend during my time here, she was the very first person to welcome me into the community and I’m so glad she did, I love you sandy, as with Zoë my words can’t do you justice, just know that I think you’re amazing, you really are.

@momobunniisims: My first follower and the light of this entire community, I adore Momo, she’s constantly showering me with love, hope and positivity and this place wouldn’t be half as great without her, ily Momo!