info

Hello!

Welcome to my overly-organized blog. Just follow the links and you'll find everything. (No really, click the links.)

sometimes I:

--write things (slowly)
--make things (graphics and mixes mostly)
--rec things (like it's my job tbh)

status

blog status

intermitantly active

blogger status

--not-so-quietly amassing an army of The 100 fans.
--forever in mourning for Allison Argent.
--plotting.

hits

|

currently

watching

tv schedule

the fandom(s)

The 100. Outlander. Continuum.

the ship(s)

Bellamy/Clarke

the character(s)

Clarke Griffin. Allison Argent. Kate Fuller.

promoting
a u g u s t u s   h a d   a   s i s t e r
i won’t let anything bad happen to you, octavia
The 100  gif set  
W H E R E   I S   M Y   F R I E N D ?

Evelyn: Look, I… I may not be an explorer, or an adventurer, or a treasure-seeker, or a gunfighter, Mr. O’Connell, but I am proud of what I am.
Rick: And what is that? 
Evelyn: I… am a librarian.

The war had taught me to cherish the present because tomorrow might not ever come to pass. What I didn’t know at the time was that tomorrow would prove less important than yesterday.

outlander  

That’s for if things get really hardcore. Or if you wanna blow up moons. No one’s blowing up moons. You just wanna suck the joy out of everything.

mymodernmet:

Illustrator Lili Chin's adorable series Dogs of the World illustrates 192 breeds of dogs grouped according to geographical origin.

GET TO KNOW ME MEME4/5 favorite female characters » Allison Argent

"I was thinking that maybe I should be prepared. Learn to be a better fighter and learn all the things that you can still teach me. And maybe a few things more. But we’re going to have a new code. Nous protégeons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protéger."

audreyii-fic:

theamayasakarutaexperience:

bemusedlybespectacled:

amuseoffyre:

nothingeverlost:

Fourteen years ago, a Death Eater named Bellatrix Lestrange used the Cruciatus Curse on my parents. She tortured them for information, but they never gave in. I’m quite proud to be their son.

This hurts. A lot.

One of the scenes that I will never be able to forget from the book is the scene when they’re at the hospital and Neville’s mother comes and gives him the sweet wrapper. She’s been tortured to insanity, but some part of her, some tiny diamond hard fragment of who she was, smothered by the shattered remains of herself remembers her son enough to want to make him smile.

She gives him a present to make him smile, and you just know Neville took that sweet wrapper home with him and put it in a box with all the other random pieces of rubbish she has given to him over the past 14 years.

This is why Neville’s story makes me hurt much more than Harry. Neville’s parents are still there. He can still see them and touch them, but he can never and will never know what they think of him, of what he has become. But no matter what happens, he will do every damn thing he can to be a man they would be proud of. Even if he’s scared, he will be brave because they were.

Re: Neville will never know what they think of him: it’s interesting that Harry, for all he never knew his parents, interacts with them quite a lot for an orphan. Both the Priori Incantatem spell and the Resurrection Stone let Lily and James talk to Harry. They tell him how brave he is and how proud they are and how much they love him.

Neville gets a bubblegum wrapper.

what the hell made any of you think this was okay

btw, I haven’t been on Facebook much in a long time but I’m looking to reconnect with people and stuff, so any of my mutuals who feel comfortable with being friends there should def hit me up :)

"We do not see things as they are, we see them as we are."
Anaïs Nin (via animalmusic)
"

People
are not
rain
or
snow
or autumn
leaves;

they
do not
look
beautiful
when
they
fall

"
poetry  

mcu meme; 8 characters: Sif [4/8]

- And who proved wrong all who scoffed at the idea that a young maiden could be one of the fiercest warriors this realm has ever known?
- I did.

"I have been dropping things lately,
dog-eared books and empty paper cups.
There is a terror here.
Are these things I can afford to lose?
Old paperbacks, clean vessels, my grip?
 
My hands shake more
after the fall
than they did the moment I let go.
My heart stops for a moment,
just a moment,
midair, for just one shattering
moment.
 
I have been dropping things,
but only empty things,
the ones waiting to be filled.
The heavy I can handle.
They press down, crease my soft palms.
They will not leave me
with open hands."
ejl.
poetry  
"

sometimes it is all i can do to move
to push for giving leverage against bedsheets
and let my feet sink into cold air at the floor
—to step

sometimes it is all i can do to breathe
to taste morning breath and a pitiful ache
to know i am at the beginning of a day of struggle
and that i must begin

sometimes all i can do is dream
and despite my best efforts to sleep peaceful
i am filled with visions of rot and screams

no matter what tricks i perform
what gods or demons i give pressed-lipped homage to
i wake up cold, sweaty, cramping
crying, gasping for breath, reaching for knives—
but i must sleep sometime

my feet are cold
my breath is acrid
i am hungry
i slept for ten hours and am still tired
i dreamed about men looking up little girls’ skirts
and i do not want to leave my room
now that i have just finally found one

but the world will not stop its rotation for me
and my nightmares are not so much worse outside
and so, most days, i do

and the days i don’t, i survive

"
(via peenguin)