While I Fully Appreciate The Portability And Other Conveniences That Ebooks Provide, That Will Never

Tessa to Maryse

Dear Maryse,

As one mother to another, I’m writing to you for advice. It’s been many many years since I was raising children, and when I say many years, I mean more than a century. And now I find myself in that position again. Although we have not talked frequently, I have often thought what a wonderful mother you must have been and continue to be. After all, your children have turned out so wonderfully. Isabelle is so brave, Alec such a leader, and Jace, well, I can only tell you that I know what an excellent example of a Herondale is, and he is one.

I also know that you have experienced profound loss and grief, and that you understand it.

I am writing to you about Kit. He too is a Herondale, and I believe that he will be an excellent example of one as well. But like all Herondale men (and the girls, too, believe me I know!) he is very private and secretive. On the whole Jem and I wish nothing but to respect his privacy. But when comes the time when worry requires one, as a parent, to intervene?

A few nights ago after dinner I stopped by Kit’s room to give him his phone (he is forever losing it and leaving it somewhere!), and I found that he was not there. Glancing out the window, I could see him outside, standing in our front garden. He had his back to me and appeared to be staring off into the distance, but I could tell by the way he was standing and the movements of his shoulders that he was agitated. Concerned, I followed him outside. I came up behind him quietly, not wanting to startle him. Perhaps I came too quietly. I realized immediately that he was talking to a ghost—I’ve had experiences of such things before. As is always the case in this kind of situation, I could hear only his side of the conversation.

Kit said, “If you keep trying to talk to me about this, I’m not going to be able to see you anymore.” Then he said, “Of course I believe in forgiveness. But some things are so terrible that you never want to revisit them.” There was a long pause. I thought maybe it was over. And then he said, “Don’t you understand? Everytime you bring him up, it tears another piece out of my heart.” Then he turned around, and of course saw me, standing on the path outside the house. He didn’t say anything, just gave me a sort of betrayed look and ran inside.

The next day of course he just pretended that nothing had happened. I just don’t know what to do. Should I leave him alone to work through this on his own? I always figured there must be ghosts at Cirenworth—Kit has informed me that there is a ghost dog that he plays with sometimes, a retriever I think —but I can’t imagine any of them as malicious or hurtful. And indeed it didn't sound as though he were afraid of the ghost, but as though the ghost brought back dark memories of his past. Perhaps of his father? I just don’t know what to do. Jem thinks we should let him work it out on his own, as he is a teenager, but then I remember my first two children, when they were teenagers, how there were times when they did need my help. (I am very much hoping that Kit is not having a tempestuous affair with a ghost, as I’m not sure I could go through that again.)

It’s keeping me up nights worrying. If there’s any advice that you have, I’d love to hear it.

I’m enclosing a picture of Jace and Clary with Kit and Mina, last time they visited. They look so happy!

All best,

Tessa

Like... right?

why are all of Two Feet's songs music to smash to?????????? They're all so sexy but it's literal nonsense I do not understand

-When I told the army doctor that sometimes my period pains make me unable to function for days, he didn’t even write that down. -When I told my dad “don’t touch me, I’m in pain” he backed down for a moment until my mom told him “she’s on her period”. Then he just laughed. -When I told my teacher before a big test that I was unable to do it because I was in extreme pain and could barely move at all, she said I was making up excuses and that it wasn’t a real reason not to do the test.  -Wenever I tell someone about how different I feel during my period emotionally they say I’m just “making up drama”.  We need to start treating people on their periods like actual human beings in pain. 

-The fact that it occurs monthly doesn’t make the pain less real. It should be treated seriously and with respect. -The fact that the hormones effect the emotions doesn’t make your sadness less painful or the anger less valid or that terrible feeling of being lost less terrifying. Guess what? Hormones affect everyone. Feelings aren’t always rational. It should be also treated seriously and with respect.

Please stop mocking people with periods. Please stop dismissing us. Please stop violating our boundries. Please respect people with periods. 

😊❤

francesca hayward and akane takada performing swan lake’s pas de trois

MY OTP😭😭😭

being alone is hopeless.

Dru texts Kit

So, India is dying.

Look, I know a good number of you are from the US and things aren't amazing there either, but my country is literally on the brink of collapse. So I'd love it if we could talk about that for a minute.

If you can't do anything else, please just read and reblog.

A second COVID wave has taken out the healthcare system. There are no more hospital beds. There's an oxygen shortage. There's a critical vaccine shortage. The Central Government has thrown its hands up and is passing the baton to the State Governments to do what they can.

There are over 16 million covid cases. A record 330,000 new cases reported yesterday - comparable to the US at its peak. 187,000 dead as of today.

There is no plan.

Mass cremations are taking place. The cremation grounds are running day and night and they are short on wood. People are watching their loved ones die while waiting for a hospital bed, and then they're unable to give them the proper burial rights.

Hospitals are overwhelmed. Patients are being confined, two to a bed. They're the lucky ones.

We are on the verge of people dying in the streets.

This is the second-most populous country in the world. The largest democracy. A country that encapsulates over 15,000 years of recorded human history and has endured everything from famine to invasion to colonisation.

We might be at the end. This might be the thing that does us in.

People are dying.

People are dying.

People are dying and there is no plan.

More good news? Variants are popping up. A double mutation strain has shown up. It is resistant to current vaccines. This will not go away. This is the devastation they warned of when the anti-maskers were out protesting the minor inconvenience of covering their face in public.

My country is on the verge of an emergency state. Our government has failed us. This is as dire a situation as it ever could be.

Look. I don't do much with my life. I write fics, some of you have read them and that's pretty much it. I spend my days with my head in the clouds because that's where I like to be.

But two days ago, my grandmother tested positive, had to be taken to hospital and the ambulance caught fire.

She barely made it to the urgent care she needs.

So, here I am, using whatever meager platform I have to cobble this request together. Because I have to do something.

If you can, donate.

Or spread the word.

Help. Please.

I’m sorry for the heartbreak </3

@cassandraclare