her greatest work

Trini getting so excited whenever Billy talks about something he likes and inputing questions, genuinely curious to learn more. Sometimes, when he doesn’t tell her what a certain device does, she just decides to toy with it and see if she can figure it out herself. (She rarely does before Billy is yelling at her to not touch a certain button or move a certain wire)

It stresses Billy out sometimes, but it makes working on his inventions so much more fun, especially on the days when Trini is there when he starts a new project and inputs her own ideas.

“Wait, so what does this button do?”


“What? Why not? Billy, c'mon just tell me what it does!”

“Trini if you touch that button, the whole place is gonna go boom. Tri- nO STEP AWAY TRINI!”

“The whole place?”

“The whole place.”

That just sums up how Trini and Billy ended up with grass stains all over themselves and Candace Cranston running out into the backyard in nothing but a robe, staring blankly at the 10 foot diameter circle Billy’s latest invention had put in her ground.

Also he starts to teach her breadboarding and code, but finds out Trini knows almost eight coding languages fluently. She’s never seen any of the codes he’s written for his inventions, so she’s left in awe trying to figure what they do. She knows breadboards like they’re the back of her hand, so one day he leaves one hooked up to his computer with a code waiting to be run. 

Trini gets super excited because she’s never seen the coding behind all of Billy’s amazing work and decided to run it. What she doesn’t know is that Billy has over a dozen of Breadboards laying around, and when she runs the code, more than half of them start letting out this whistling sound. She stops running the code, which doesn’t work because Billy did something that only allows the circuits to stop running if they’re disabled manually.

Trini’s left bewildered trying to figure out which ones are going off and which ones aren’t, disabling them herself as fast as she can. Billy thinks it’s hilarious (he apologizes of course) and then let’s Trini play around with all of his different coding programs as he finishes up one of his prototypes.

masterwayfinders  asked:

concept: moana getting super sick. nothing fatal, just something REALLY unpleasant to go through. She knows nothing's gonna happen to her, but unfortunate, out-of-practice-for-1000-years maui does *not* and goes into full-blown Panic Mode over her well-being.

Look, an honest effort at fluff! Fun fact: I wrote this when I was actually suffering a migraine. Probably should’ve gone to sleep, but I hadn’t written yet that day, so this is the result of me shamelessly inflicting my own pain on my favorite characters.

Also, in Moana: Island Life, it’s confirmed canon that Moana sometimes forgets to eat her own breakfast because she’s too busy worrying about her own people. Chill, Curly, they’re not gonna die if you drink a coconut or two.

His first clue is a wince. It’s a little thing, just the smallest movement in the corner of his peripheries, and it’s gone when he glances beside him, but he catches it all the same.

“Something on your mind, Curly?”

“Huh?” Moana responds, all of her earlier eloquence gone, and Maui takes that as a no. Makes sense. Even an orator like Moana has to run dry of clever words sometimes, and after her incredible display of diplomatic navigation inside that fale tele he’s not surprised she’s hit her cap.

“Ah, nothing,” he says, waving an airy hand in her direction. “Anyway, now that’s done, whaddya say to a day on the water, huh?”

Moana’s face lights up, all eagerness and anticipation…and then falls. “I can’t,” she replies quietly. “I have stuff to do.”

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Requested. (Not sure in which direction you wanted this to go, so I winged it.)

Song or quote : “You want to know a secret? I stopped writing for a while when he left, and that was the moment I felt like he had stolen a part of me"  
Who: Chris Evans

“This is beautiful, [Y/N]!” 

She smiled softly, looking down in her lap, her hand reaching to smooth out the wrinkle in her black dress pants. “Thank you.” 

The publisher agent leaned back in his chair, shaking his head, his eyes skimming back over the beautiful writing that was sitting in front of him. “I can’t believe it, you’re back, baby. You are back!” Leaning forward a little too violently, he grinned. “This is gold, [Y/N]. You have no idea how happy I am that you’re getting back into writing. The community missed you, you know.” He frowned, “Where did you go, exactly?” 

[Y/N] sucked in air as she relived the happiest and saddest moments of her life. It had all started years ago with a simple meeting between herself and a man that she would owe most of her greatest works to whether or not she wanted to. She was writing a lot back then but nothing was standing out until she wrote a literal book of poems. Pouring every bit of herself into every page, creating a story with rhymes and meaning. It flew off the shelves and eventually went on back-order. 

The demand for her book was incredible and a lot of people saw potential. One in particular wanted to turn it into a short film for the Sundance Festival and [Y/N] couldn’t say no. She couldn’t wait to see her words transpire in front of her eyes and neither could her publishing agency. It meant big bucks and boosted her into the top.

She was to meet the cast and go into detail to explain the characters they’d play a little more deeply than what was evident on the pages. And among that cast was Chris who so easily stole her breath the minute he delicately shook her hand. [Y/N] wasn’t known for falling but Chris had made it happen within seconds. 

They dated on and off for a few years before he made the move to keep her around for good. He was wonderful to her, made her feel like a queen and more. She was happy, more than that actually. He was her muse and whenever he was around, she wrote beautifully. Chris loved to watch her write, loving the way she’d bite the corner of her lip when she’d dig in her mind for a word that rhymed with the one before. 

But all good things must end and their love ran out. It was a shame because neither of them saw it coming and it was because of that reason that made it so hard for the both of them to move on. Chris resorted to heavy drinking, staying out late with friends, trying to numb the pain of what could have been. It took less than a year for him to forget her name and face despite the many years they shared together. This was his job, he was conditioned to play different people and emotions. Once he got back into the swing of things, it was easy to forget her. All he had to do was force his mind into living like his character and once he was done, he’d move onto the next one until he forgot why he was doing what he was doing. 

[Y/N] on the other hand lost it all. She had trouble grasping that the man she had spent all those years left had disappeared. It wasn’t fair seeing him genuinely laugh and smile in interviews and parties. How could he have moved on so quickly? Granted the calculations of his misery was six months, give or take some. It took her way longer to grieve over the death of her relationship. 

“I traveled some,” [Y/N] spoke, an underlying tone of sadness lacing her voice. “I felt lost so I decided to see the world hoping that it’d give me something to write about.” 

“I’d say that it did it’s job. This is wonderful, people are going to love this.” 

“You want to know a secret?” She waited for him to nod, “I stopped writing for a while when he left, and that was the moment I felt like he had stolen a part of me" Looking back down at her lap, she bit her lip. “That’s why I was so lost because when I was with him, I knew everything about myself and I felt like I could write eternally. And when he left, he took all of that.” 

Nodding, he gave a soft smile. “It’s good to have you back, [Y/N]. I trust that you have found yourself?”

“I’m on my way.” [Y/N] said calmly with a small smile on her lips. It might take a few more years but at least she was on the right track. 


Originally posted by flydestiel

A/N: I had this thought awhile ago, why is it the reader who’s always getting kidnapped? Why doesn’t one of the boys get kidnapped because of the reader? Not that I don’t love those fics, but I thought this was a different take on it. So, here we go. Thanks to @impala-dreamer for her advice and supreme beta skills. Let me know what you think, and as always if you want on/off a tag list hit me up!

(The sections in italics are a different pov…I hope it’s not awkward and confusing how this is broken up)

Dean x Reader

Words: 2,800

Warnings: Angst (I think this is my angstiest yet), Dean-napping, Wee bit of torture (it’s not all that graphic, but Dean gets his ass kicked), Swears


“Good! You’re awake, this isn’t nearly as fun when you’re knocked out. There just isn’t a point to it at all really.”

“Who the fuck are you?”

Black eyes flashed in Dean’s face. “Brom, we haven’t had the pleasure of meeting before.”

“Brom? Like the paralyzed kid on Game of Thrones? Wait, no that’s Bran. In any case, can’t say I’m all that thrilled to meet ya.”

“Understandable, under the circumstances, and especially when one considers all the things I have planned for you.”

Walking around the metal table Dean was strapped to, the demon stopped at a small cart, surveying the tools, deciding where to start.

“Listen, I’m not one to judge a guy for his kinks, but I hate to break it to you I’m not into being the one tied down, not to mention I’m not really batting for your team, so if you’re gonna kill me let’s just get on with it.”

“That’s right, demons are more of baby brother Winchester’s speed aren’t they?” Picking up a thin blade, the demon began making small cuts into Dean’s legs, “I’ll remember that for next time, but I need you alive for a bit longer.”

“Boy, you’re dumber than you look if you think I’d ever talk.” Dean fell quiet and kept still as Brom went back to his cart and left the knife behind.

“Oh no, I’d never expect you to talk.” He scoffed, fist suddenly landing a blow to Dean’s ribs. “I simply need you alive, long enough so that stupid gash you call a girlfriend…” Again and again his fist collided with Dean’s ribs. “Can watch you die.”

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The Gift of Men/ The Brides of Death

crocordile (and a few others over the months) have asked about some of my proto-Bëorian headcanons. One of them has to do with a element of symbolism of the Wisewomen of the Edain, of mistletoe and other poisonous plants and a very common twist one comes across when reading about stories of maidens sacrificed to dragons. 

Nóm has many questions, but he never asks about the wreath Andreth wears in her hair, the white berries of the mistletoe, the needles of the yew, the star-like purple nightshade flowers, and the white clusters of celery or carrot in place of the water dropwort. White flowers and white berries are popular to make into flower wreathes to crown a head, and the bright purple and yellow of the wise-woman’s flowers show dramatically against her dark hair. Perhaps he thinks they were chosen for their beauty. It is the same wreath that Adanel wears, and every Wisewoman before her, the mistletoe and yew and many changing flowers. Andreth weaves in the bright yellow flowers of the golden chain tree, for they are easy to find and pair nicely.

The dangers of the starving years on grass peas, how fearful her people were when they no longer had even the vetches with their tiny blue flowers to survive on, are long gone. Now only the animals eat it, mixed in with rich grains, fat off the summer grass in the highlands. That her people even have cattle and herd animals is thanks to the generosity and protection of Nóm, of Lord Finrod. But no longer do they fear the wasting paralysis from the only food that would grow in famine and drought, even if Adanel adds their tiny flowers to her own wreath in remembrance.

Andreth touches the wreath and wonders if he does not know all are deadly to eat, but then he is an elf.

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anonymous asked:

For real tho, New Romantics could have been 1000x betger opener than WTNY lmao, i don't even hate the song, I find it fun, but NR is still a way better song and opener



like father                         like daughter


Bucky x avengers x reader

Warnings: violence, mentions of murder, mentions of panic, ‘terrorist’ attacks

“Life is nothing without a little chaos to make it interesting.”
Amelia Atwater-Rhodes, Demon in My View

(reader is not a terrorist, but perceives herself as an artist, her greatest work being chaos and fire) 

If you guys like it, I’ll continue; it’s probably a four part series.  

Originally posted by itskissland

A devious smirk forms on my face as I press the “call” button of the old flip-phone. I watch as the building in front of me is immediately brought down in fire and dust. People scream; they run, as they try to get as far away from the chaos as possible. The building burns, and I keep watching as the foundation begins to crumble. I close my eyes and take a few moments to revel in the sound of chaos, feeling nostalgic towards the many times I have done this before.

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@notbrogues This is what I worked on instead of my KBB

Her hair is tied back into a bun coiled at the back of her neck. Bright white latex gloves are snapped over her shiny red nails. The tools are sterilized and polished to a gleaming silver shine. The door is firmly shut and will never open unless it hears her voice.

Everything is ready.

“Poor darling,” Poppy coos, “poor, poor darling. They left you out there in this hot Kentucky sun, hm? Flies buzzing, brains baking out on the concrete, blood trickling onto your nice suit? Not very nice. Not very nice at all.”

The scalpel slices cleanly through—a nice, neat cut. The machines buzz and hum, and occasionally, Poppy glances at the heart monitor beeping steadily. All is well. All is going well. It’s always a bit nerve-wracking when the patient is first put under. Why, her first few attempts had been disasters, poor things. But she’d studied and trained and worked harder than she ever did in her life, and look at what she’s accomplished!

They’d be sorry. They’d all be sorry. They didn’t think she was good enough? They didn’t think any of them were? Well, she’d show them.

“Such interesting things that Hesketh boy told me,” she continues, sweet as her world famous maltshakes. “Your babblings made a bit more sense after that. Modern knights, suits, gadgets. You Brits are eccentric, aren’t you?” She pauses, considering, then reaches for one of the pieces on the table. “But now I know your name. Alliterative. Dashing.”

Poppy begins to build—tiny, almost invisible wires and deceptively fragile bits of metal—and hums “American Girl” as she works. She peels the skin, slices and cauterizes organs, inserts more and more into the body, chest rising and falling softly. This will be her greatest work. Invulnerability and immortality, all in a nice, controlled package. Pity she can’t do this with herself, but she doesn’t trust anyone else to do this correctly.

“I’ve been developing this for years,” Poppy says, allowing herself a boast. “Years and years. You’re my first…final draft, as it were. The perfect specimen. I have such plans for you. Such marvelous plans.”  

Blood sluggishly slips down her gloves when she pulls away, briefly studying the tablet attached to the bed, a painstakingly-sketched diagram on the screen.

“Not bad yet,” Poppy murmurs. “We still have a few hours to go, don’t we? Don’t go dying on me now,” she continues, then begins folding the skin back into place, reaching for another one of her clever tools, one that will seal everything together with precision. “It was very inconvenient the last time. But I think I’ll add some insurance. Something that will prevent…outright rebellion. I don’t expect you to be completely obedient. I do want you to be able to think for yourself, analyze new situations, draw on your experiences. What use is a lobotomized robot?”

Finishing, she changes into new gloves, then traces the shaven area, pale and vulnerable. His eyes are closed, and he looks peaceful when Poppy cuts into his skull.

“This is the tricky part,” she warns. “Hang in there. After this, you can rest. I have such a lovely room prepared for you. Very homey.”

It’s like slicing into Jell-o, but with more irregular texture. It hadn’t swelled too much, and she was able to save him before those cowboy spies—or death—snatched him up. He’d been kept in recovery, Poppy planning and praying, and she’d waited until she was a hundred percent sure before preparing for the operation. She had high hopes for him—maybe too high—but this was perfect.

Oh, V-Day had been tragic, so tragic. But this time, she can show the world what she can do—build. Fix the broken—not the same as ever, of course—but close enough. It hadn’t been her original plan, but what’s just a simple revenge plot? Might as well try to fix the world while she’s at it. They’ll love her for this, love her forever.

Her hands move fast, and before she knows it, everything’s in place, wired and coded. Poppy finishes the last touches, then nods in approval. He won’t be woken up right away; it will have to be in degrees, then slowly introduce the physical therapy, the training, the conditioning. Hesketh may be impatient, but Poppy’s learned to wait for the right moment to strike. What’s a few more months for perfection?

Poppy steps back, gloves on her hips. Her apron is securely tied around her waist, and in one of the pockets is a special device. Valentine might have been clever, but there was so much more you could do with emotions more than a searing, brainless rage. It was subtler, yes, and had human error, but it was so much more precise and effective, especially with the help of her biochemical cocktails. A vial, in fact, was tucked neatly into a bomb with a certain organization’s name written on it.

And it will all begin. But first…

“My Lazurus,” she sings, then activates the body lying on the cold, steel table. “Wake up.”

it was hidden behind a few walls, several locks, some of them with keypads on them, and a complex laser system. the journey to it took approximately twelve minutes, and anyone could see it as a major inconvenience. but for mei, it was the safety she needed. as the doors of the locked vault opened, she found herself surrounded by ominous smoke, disrupted by one shining beacon in the middle of the room.

once inside, the inventor couldn’t help but giggle– cackle, even, at the pristine condition of her greatest work. she lifted it up, admiring it in all of it’s glory.

a really cute flying squirrel fursuit with animatronic, motion sensing tail. one of it’s kind.
the best fursuit of 2017 winner at the annual kemokyoto convention.
her precious, precious jewel. her greatest mark left on this world.

You know what I really want to bring back the camera that Shawn gave to Riley and show her slowly getting into photography and she starts at first at her safe place and take many picture of the bay window in on different angle. Then she starts taking pictures of random people and try to convey the stories in that moment. We know how observant Riley really is when she isn’t playing the role of a ditzy girl. she loves people watching and now she takes pictures of then and when she gets comfortable she start taking pictures of her friends and family. her parents doesn’t notice her taking up as a hobby but when she officially not shy enough she takes a picture of Topanga working on her paperwork or When Cory is grading paper or even Auggie and Ava play dates it take them by surprise. Riley shows them the pictures and they are so proud of her because the image shows so much love for them.
then she finally starts bringing her camera to school and basically everywhere and she is not afraid to take a photo when she can’t control the urge. she discovers that she always want to take out her camera in innaprotiate time and just take a pictures of Maya. when she is making fun of her dad, when she is serious, when she bites her lips or When Maya always end up staring at her. her favorite model became Maya and she doesn’t understand how that happen but she doesn’t want to stop taking her pictures.
then one day she had the courage to show her pictures to Shawn, someone who knows about photography, someone who can actually judge her photos more seriously than her parents or friends and to finally able to relate in something other then being the daughter of his best friend or of his stepdaughter’s friend. she can finally be his goddaughter, his niece and when she shown Shawn he look at Riley in surprise and smiles so big. He just went to her and hug her and then started complimenting her photos and giving her advice here and there where she can do better.
after that every birthday and Christmas she will end up getting many photography books that she might like and new equipment for her camera ect
By senior year of High school, Riley start spending more time at the art room because that’s the place Maya ends up most her time now as she is building up her art portfolio for many art school she can apply. Riley and with her trusty camera always ends up capturing a lot of Maya hard work and consetration on her latest piece of art and to Riley those pictures are her greatest work. She ends up putting all this pictures of Maya on her own portfolio.
instead of getting into a art school for photography she ends up majoring on psychology because she loves people (and the reason she taken up photography)and want to understand them and help them similar to her dad with them and minor in photography instead.

Silence of the Sound || Oneshot

Title: Silence of the Sound
Rating: K
Characters: Human!Tenth Doctor, Rose Tyler
Genre: Fluff/Friendship/Romance
Summary: –Human AU– Rose Tyler has been deaf for as long as she can remember. And she’s happy with her life. It’s not always easy, but it’s hers. The addition of John Noble doesn’t make it better, per se. But it certainly enhances it.

Note One: Based on this by perfectlyrose​.

Note Two: It has recently come to my attention that I have something of a…reputation for angst. Needless to say, I was rather surprised by this. So have a 95% angst free story. See, I know how to write nice things too.

Note Three: This is pretty unbeta-ed. Please don’t review just to point out mistakes.

Rose Marion Tyler was born at 4:32 a.m. on April 27, 1987.

And she was perfect.

Her awestruck parents spent hours cooing over her, counting her fingers and toes and poking her little button nose and playing with the tuff of hair she’d been born with.

She was perfect.

It was six hours before anyone realized something was wrong with her. It could’ve been longer — it could’ve been months — if not for a clumsy aid knocking over a tray of equipment right outside Jackie Tyler’s hospital room. The metal tray and instruments crashed against the linoleum floor, creating a ruckus that would’ve been scared any newborn and made them cry — and as a matter of fact it did set off all the babies in the surrounding rooms.

But not Rose. Little Rose Tyler slept peacefully, much to the suspicion of her parents and the doctor.

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anonymous asked:

Looking at the panel in chapter 64 with Eto saying that she's a surplus of Kuzen and Ukina's relationship, do you think she seriously hates who she is? Her parents/origins/childhood? What she's become? That she does believe what she's saying, that ghouls deserve to be above humans, but is half-doubting her means? Do you think she believes that she was born from false love, and it's unconsciously ingrained in her that she does not deserve actual love? Sorry for many questions, but will continue

Pt. 2 :) How do you think Noro plays into Eto’s twisted form of love? Would you say Eto’s twisted love comes from a lack of parental figures? Do you think Ishida’s juxtaposing Kaneki’s uncertain love (from bad parental figures), to Eto’s twisted one (no/few stable parental figures)? What do you think this means for the series? To me, Eto was a symbol of Ukina’s sacrifice and the couple’s love love, but Eto was only born because of cannibalism. Thoughts? What do you think Ukina meant to Kuzen?

Pt 3. Sorry for spamming your inbox! Yoshimura started Anteiku and started a new ‘family’ after killing Ukina and leaving Eto. Eto, as shown in chapter 63, saw this, maybe even repeatedly. Yoshimura was aware of Eto’s existence. Why do you think Kuzen (at least as far as we know), never tried to find Eto? Why did he only protect her indirectly? How would you define Kuzen’s form of love? Eto seemed hurt by this. Had Kuzen been in Eto’s life, how do you think Eto would have turned out differently?

Whew, that’s a lot of questions. I’m not going to answer speculation questions (i.e. “How do you think Noro plays into Eto’s twisted form of love?” since we have such an extreme lack of anything resembling canon information about Noro…) but I will do my best to write about Eto, Kuzen, and Ukina. 

One aspect of good writing is not allowing your characters to have god-like knowledge that extends past the bounds of what they could reasonably know. Ishida handles this very well; even a character like Eto, who knows so much, doesn’t know more than she could ostensibly find, research, and guess. (By the way, I adore the fact that Eto is a writer, because she is also clearly in incredible detective, and really good writing requires pretty serious research skills. :’) Writerly pride). When it comes to her parents, Eto only has part of the story. We’re not sure how much she learned from Noroi, but Eto clearly based her opinions off of 2 things: her mother’s journal, and her observations of her father’s behavior. 

Now, Yoshimura left the journal with her on purpose, he says so in Ch 119 of TG. So, ostensibly, he knew everything that was written there. She does not know anything from that journal, specifically, that he didn’t already know. It’s deeply unlikely that there was no love between Kuzen and Ukina. Ukina had the option of seeking an abortion, but instead something that Kuzen called a “miracle” occurred…she began to cannibalize. It was her cannibalism that allowed Eto to survive, and that, to me, proves the depth of hr commitment both to Eto and to Yoshimura. 

This makes it even more terrible that Kuzen later killed her. We’re not given real details as to why he felt it was better to kill her, but I’m guessing he felt that it was the only way to ensure their child’s survival. And it’s what she asked for. 

But, from Eto’s point of view, her mother got close to Kuzen because he was a “mark.” And as she says in this chapter, she was merely the byproduct of that love. Remember, that’s her point of view. If Kuzen’s story can be trusted, they both fought very hard to foster her life while she was still in utero. But from Eto’s point of view, she was conceived, born, and then abandoned by her father after he murdered her mother. His reasoning, and his feelings about it, don’t matter to Eto. She’s made her own decisions about what and who Kuzen was and is, and though her feelings are complicated, it’s clear that she feels strongly that she was cast aside and abandoned. 

So yes, I am sure that this narrative that Eto has of her own beginnings has contributed to her twisted way of loving, and that it has all contributed both to her creative endeavors as an author and to her ultimate mission to destroy V and upend the order of things as they are. I think that there have been metas about Eto and Yggdrasil, the tree of life, but essentially, I think that she sees herself and her experiences in these huge, archetypal terms. The mother of ghouls, giving birth to a new world order, serving as a bridge between worlds, leading her people, oppressed and degraded, into the shining light of a new world. 

Eto is a storyteller, and her ability to craft a narrative extends both to her conceptions of her past and to her conceptions of her future. Eto has agency, determination, and incredible power. She is creating the world that she wishes she had been born into. Don’t forget that Eto espoused the idea of the OEK, and of the prophetic power of the birth of a one-eye. She is a legend, and she embraces her role in the story…but she’s just as interested in pulling the puppet strings of those around her. Eto’s greatest work is the one she’s writing with her actions, her body, and her words right now

As far as Kuzen, his reasoning for staying away from Eto has never changed; he knows the true power of V, and he doesn’t want them to get to her. Now that we know that Arima is an agent of V, we can see a bit of that power. Protecting her indirectly was the only way he could avoid putting her directly in harms way…and he tried, I think, by leaving her with Noroi, he tried to give her the best chance he could. But what happened next? We can’t know, not yet, but whatever it was, it wasn’t something that Yoshimura felt that he could prevent or control. Eto, on the other hand, saw a very clear way that her pain could have been prevented and lessened. She’s put her proverbial pen to paper, and she’s writing the most important, most personal work of her career - her own life. 

Anyway, there’s so much there, and we don’t have all the answers yet, but there’s no doubt that there will be more to come. I’m not the first to say it and I wont be the last, but Eto is one of the most incredible and fascinating characters I’ve ever seen. I’m excited af to see what she does next. 

I’ll tell her to go quickly and never come back.

I will make her stronger than me.

I’ll say to her never forget what they did to you

and never let them know you remember.

Never forget what they did to you

and never let them know you remember.

Never forget what they did to you

and never let them know you remember.


Daughter, by Nicole Blackman (full text under the cut)

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THEY ARE ALL OKAY, and all those things could exist in THE SAME WOMAN. Women shouldn’t be valued because we are strong, or kick-ass, but because we are people. So don’t focus on writing characters who are strong. Write characters who are people. x 

Korra Appreciation Week, Day 5: Queen