Ashley Poston Quotes

my voice is tiny - but my dreams are big

Because Ana meant something. He felt it. Deep, burning, dawning like a sunrise. Ana meant something and he was not sure what to call it. But it was something, and it was expanding. It was a light.

After you, Geekerella.
I sigh - one BuzzFeed article and you've got a nickname for life, apparently - and wrap my free hand around the door handle. Breathe in, breathe out. The whole world is watching.

Princess Amara , Euci , and even the Nox King - they were my friends when everyone in the real world passed around rumors behind my back , called me weird , shoved me into lockers , and baited me into thinking I was beautiful only to push me away just before we kissed . They never abandoned me . They were loyal , honorable , caring , and smart .

There are dark sides of every fandom. The pockets filled with a certain kind of nostalgia where everything is sacred and shouldn't be tampered with. Where new things are always trash, or judged too harshly, or not up to some unknown holy standard. Where new people with new ideas can't touch an old sinking ship even if it'll repair it---make it better than before.

Jax took Robb by the face, fingers spreading into his hair, dark curls wrapping around his fingers, snarling them, so Robb could look at no one else. He memorized the constellation of freckles crossing Robb's nose, peppering his sun-kissed cheeks. The way the human boy looked at him made a strange, burning feeling turn in his stomach. He wanted to kiss off the freckles and place them in the sky as guiding stars.

I am a kaleidoscope of hope and dreams and wonder in the shape of a girl. I am not a porcelain doll. I am not empty. I am worthy. I am enough.

Do a lot of internet groups meet up at conventions?"

"Sure."

"How about your Starfield peeps? The online ones you talk to?"

"Oh - well, yeah. A few of them are here." We break apart for a moment as an elf with a scythe squeezes between us. "Anyway, we should get to the costume contest area and sign in, what do you say? And try not to run into the twins."

"If we do I'll shove them in a closet," Sage mutters.

I laugh. "Ready to kick some Nox butt?"

She scoffs. "Elle, I'm ready to tell them to get down on both knees and call you Queen."

"I thought you were going somewhere completely different with that."

"Eh, this is a PG sort of moment."

"Fair enough.

You're probably good at taking lip, aren't you?" I mutter more to myself than to my bodyguard, clawing through the suitcase for a T-shirt that isn't tight on me. "Like a CIA operative, right? Do bodyguards go to bodyguard school? Are you like the hitman in Hitman?"

He adjusts his cuffs. "You know the rule about fight club?"

I give him a surprised look. "So you can talk!"

He raises a single eyebrow. "I will be right outside your door if you need me. You have to be down at the lot in twenty minutes. I suggest you hurry." Then he takes his burly frame and saunters out of the room.

I shove my head into a clean shirt and pull my arms through just as my phone blips.

There's a message. Well, two messages.

Gail 8:36 AM

- HIS NAME IS LONNY. BE NICE.

"Lonny?" That name definitely is not fit for a three-hundred-pound machine of total annihilation, but okay

If you believe in yourself and have a few good friends, then you can do anything. You can be anything.

It's easier to be who you want to be when you aren't trying to be who everyone thinks you are

Lonny finishes his drink and stands. "So what's our plan?"

"You don't have to go," I tell him, shrugging out of Carmindor's jacket. "I'm sort of going AWOL, so it's not in your contract."

"Then as far as I'm concerned, I'm off the clock," he says, straightening his suit. "I can do whatever I want with my time, and I want to help you out. So what's the plan?"

"First," I say, "to the vending machines. With all this good luck, they gotta have an Orange Crush."

And holy gods of soda, Batman, by the glowing light of the great vending machines on the third floor, I spot a beautiful Orange Crush button, and when I push it an orange bottle rolls out. I crack the seal and drink to the sweet, sweet taste of victory.

"That's your plan?" Lonny says. "To drink a soda?

Is that how you greet your new ruler? With a pistol and a sassy catchphrase?
- Princess Amara

And may the force be with those chimichangas.

Oh - and Darien?"

"Yeah?"

"Diet. Don't forget. I think the third floor has a cafeteria."

I make a face. "Cafeteria food? That's cardboard, bro."

"Bro, get a salad."

I purse my lips. With my new workout regimen and my personal trainer (who reminds me of Wolverine with the personality of a wet cat…so basically just Wolverine), I've existed on protein shakes and rabbit food. And chicken. So much chicken I could sprout feathers. And it's not even seasoned

Sage thinks that I hate Amara on the principle that she's a lying double-crossers, but I hate her because I can relate to her. I'm the one tossed into the Black Nebula. I'm the one lost, in a life, a world, a universe that is no longer mine.

When you can't win the fight, you get bigger guns."

- Episode 14, "Better Space Than Never

A kiss.
One-point-three seconds--and gone.
He touched his metal mouth even though he could not feel--neither physical touch nor emotional. Ana had never kissed him on the mouth before. One the cheek, yes, when she'd drunk too much of Wick's Cercian ale. But never on the mouth. Her words echoed through his processors like a virus.
I'll always come back for you. I promise on iron and stars.
It was more than a promise--it was an oath. Unbreakable. Strong like iron and steady like stars.
It was said that such promises could never be broken; the Goddess would not allow it. The probability of a supernatural binding was less than one percent, but the vow stuck with him all the same.
Because Ana had never promised on iron and stars before.

I've met my doom, and it isn't even breakfast yet.

It's also awkward to be so short you can see all the way up into someone's cerebral cortex, but welcome to my life.

I can't lie, you insufferable Ironblood," he chided. "I'm apologizing because I can't forgive you right now, but that doesn't mean I don't want to kiss you, ma'alor. And it doesn't mean I don't like you. I do. I like you, but do you really want me? Someone who can't touch other people? That's my reality. I'll never kiss you without seeing your fate. I'll never touch you without seeing how you'll die. Am I someone you could be happy with?" Robb's brow furrowed. "Screw fate. I'll tear down the stars for you.

This is Amara. The true Amara. The one Carmindor fell in love with. The one he would have looked back at two seconds earlier. She makes me remember why I fell in love with Starfield, the hypothesis that in every universe, in every world, there is a Carmindor and Amara.
In any universe, in any world, as anyone--we are them. They are us.

I'm the villain of my story, and the hero.

She wears life like Elvis wore sequins, with no apology laced into the seams.

He set his chin on her head. "I am sorry, I am so sorry," he repeated, feeling her tears dampening his uniform shoulder.
"Why are YOU sorry? I was the one who wanted to sneak onto that ship. I was the one who led you into danger. I KILLED you--"
He pushed her away from him. "No," he said, looking into her eyes so she would understand. "I went because I wanted to."
"You went because you ALWAYS go," she argued, "and I always lead you into trouble."
"Because I will follow you anywhere," he insisted. "To the ends of the galaxy, if I have to. I want to exist where you exist, and that is enough.

I'll save you," Jax said.
And Robb replied, "I know.

Gail and Lonny find me as I'm tugging on my shirt. I can't wait until my clothes start fitting normal again and aren't uncomfortably tight around the chest. I can't wait to go back to all the familiar comics T-shirts that don't fit me at this bulked-out size.

"Well?" Gail says. "How is it? How do you feel?"

"I can eat bacon again!" I yell, throwing up a fist. "All the bacon! Bacon or bust!"

"Yes!" Gail cheers. "After your promo shoots, you absolutely can!"

My cries of glee turn into an actual sob. I quickly shove my face into my arm. Thank god it's just Gail.

She pats me on the shoulder. "I know," she says. "But you'll get to have it soon, and then - "

"No." I swallow and shake my head, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. "It's not the bacon." I mean, it is but it's also not. I'm overcome right now with everything. These last few months leading up to the shoot, the mounting pressure, the twenty-three days of high stress and rabbit food and Elle. All of it. "Why does it have to be so hard?"

"Getting a six pack?"

I give her a feeble smile. "I am more than my body, thank you.

I suck at being social. I think one thing and my mouth says something completely different, like I'm possessed. By a whole lot of stupid.

- I'm saying let's stop being powerless.
- Sometimes we shouldn't be Carmindor.
- Sometimes we should be Amara.

Home wasn't always warm, and wasn't always safe, but home was hers. And it was not this prison.

She reaches out to take the jacket. I hesitate for a moment, like Frodo with his Ring, but then I remember ow much crap Frodo walked into and I'd rather not end up like Frodo. So I give it to Sage.

I'm half of my father. Half of my hero. And I am half of my mother. Half soft sighs and half sharp edges. And if they can be Carmindor and Amara--then somewhere in my blood and bones I can be too. I'm the lost princess. I'm the villain of my story, and the hero. Part of my mom and part of my dad. I am a fact of the universe. The Possible and the Impossible. I am not no one. I am my parents' daughter, and then I realize--I realize that in this universe they're alive too. They're alive through me. Fashioning my hands into a pistol, I point it at the ceiling, lifting my chin, raising my eyes against the blinding stage lights, and I ignite the stars.

As he hums the melody softly into my ear, I can feel the notes seep deep into my skin and bones, and birth an ache in my soul I never knew existed. What is this, if not impossible?

Electrolyte water tastes as bland as my soul feels.

Do I not meet your fangirl expectation?

I miss parts of it. I don't miss the actual place. That's never as good as you remember it.

But the way she pressed her forehead against his, and opened her golden-brown eyes, and looked into his as though he was the sun her life orbited around, stopped him from ever saying as much. So he simply stood, his forehead pressed against hers, looking into the face he knew better than his own circuitry--and THAT he had blueprints for.

I think sometimes the stories we need are the ones about taking the hobbits to Isengard and dog-human dudes with space heelies and trashy King Arthurs and gay ice-skating animes and Zuko redemption arcs and space princesses with found families and galaxies far, far away. We need those stories, too. Stories that tell us that we can be bold and brash and make mistakes and still come out better on the other side.

I promise you on iron and stars.

He died," she whispered. "I saw him die."
Di smiled sadly. "I will always come back to you."
And with all his iron heart, he believed it.

So between that blogger in the convention office and the panel, I'm in a pretty terrible mood. I can't believe I ran into the Rebelgunner blogger. And it was a girl. Fate must be trolling me. Not even seeing Nathan Fillion will help this dark cloud over my head.

Jess paints a pretty picture of an orchestra, but if we are one, then I'm the first chair violinist... who's been doused in gasoline and handed a match by the fans to watch me play while going up in flames.

Maybe everything does die--but maybe, somehow, everything that dies someday comes back.

But then jJax said, "Yet don't we always go looking for danger?"
"And we have a Metal to save," Robb added.
Talle shook her head. "Who is now a brainwashed murdering robot who wants to KILL us."
"But he didn't," Ana argued, painfully aware of the wound in her stomach. If he had wanted to kill her, he could have. He knew how. She didn't tell them what Di had whispered before he plunged the blade into her, wishing to have let her burn. That was not Di. So, she kept it to herself, a secret between her and her new scars. And that means the HIVE didn't take everything. The HIVE WON'T take everything. The Iron Kingdom isn't mine--it's ours. We're the outcasts, the rebels, the refugees--"
"And the royalty," said Jax.
"And the royalty," she agreed. "We're part of the Iron Kingdom. We're the parts no one remembers, so they'll never see us coming. Who's with me?"
Jax and Robb raised their hands without hesitation, and then Lenda, and Talle. The captain pursed her lips, blinking the stray tears out of her eyes, and then she nodded because Ana knew she just wanted to keep her safe--but now it was Ana's turn to save people.
"To the ends of the universe, darling," Siege finally replied.
Ana's heart swelled. She held tightly to Di's memory core, a lifeline glowing with hope in the dark. Once, she had not known who she could be without Di, and once she couldn't have fathomed the thought. But now she knew she carried Di with her, and Barger, and Wick, a

Sage laughs. "You got this all planned out, don't you?"

"I have to. This is like The Italian Job. Except we're smuggling me."

"Sounds more like Sam and Frodo sneaking into Mordor to me," she replies. I give her a blank look. She shrugs. "What? So I bleed Hobbit."

"Aragorn or Boromir?"

"I'm more of an Arwen fan, if you know what I mean." Sage winks.

Look, look!" Sage crows. I jerk my head up from my phone. Out in front of us, James rounds out of one of the beachwear shops, pushes a hairy guy in trunks out of the way, and sprints toward the public bathrooms.

Wide-eyed, I stare at Sage. "Did you…"

Sage smiles her demon grin. "Were those the new batch of chimichangas? Or were they chimichangas from last week?" She heaves a big shrug. "Who's to say? Wibbly wobbly timey space stuff." She wiggles her fingers, making her many bracelets jangle.

Did my coworker just exact vegan food-poisoning revenge on my behalf? I don't know whether to be grateful or terrified.

Look to the stars. Aim. Ignite.

Jax had realized, in the moments he though Robb would bleed out in the cargo bay, that he wanted to fly into those eyes. he wanted to get lost in them. Just once. If they just opened one more time.

The Solani have a saying," he said, his voice soft. "Al gat ha astri ke'eto. It means something like 'Until the next star shines on you'--until we meet again. So, Al gat ha astri ke'eto, ma'alor.

At this point I'm sure he's more plastic than person, but most people who hate wrinkles become Daleks over time, anyway.

She's like a Dalek with a blacklist. Absolutely relentless.

Ana, I am not worth--"
"I need to go see the captain," she excused herself, and hurried up the flight of stairs to the main level.
Ana, I am not worth the trouble, he was going to say.
What did she have to do to prove to him that he was worth any price?

Then he shoved his hand into the console, wrapped his fingers around the hard drive, and pulled. The program retaliated, digging into his mainframe, clawing him apart. There was no pain.
But the moment before he crushed the starship's hard drive, not long enough by any quantifiable standards, he knew he would miss Ana.
He would miss her more than iron and stars.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into another kiss, and she melted into him, pressing as close as she could, and still he wanted to be closer. Her fingers threading into his hair, his around her waist, moving, exploring. Calculations had no room here, probability and chances washed away to a deeper longing. His tongue traced the contour of her lips, memorizing her taste, her motion, her method. The kiss lit a million suns in between his zeroes and ones, and made him infinite.
He did not want to let go. He did not want to leave--he WOULD not. It was that voice that cried this, deep inside him, growing louder and louder. It was selfish. It was damning. But he did not want to forget the taste of her, her warmth, her curves, her smell. It was selfish and it was human.
And for a moment he allowed himself to be.
Until finally, she slid away, coming up for air. "You, too?" she whispered, her breath hot against his lips, hopeful, her eyes blazing like suns rising for him.
He pressed his forehead against hers. "On iron and stars," he promised.

May the stars keep you steady and the iron keep you safe.

Stop making a fool of yourself--and stop bowing to me, stars above," Jax added exasperatedly, and waited for Robb to stand again. "I'm not worth THAT must groveling."
"But you are."
Jax sighed, and held out his hand. "Come on--Di and Ana are waiting."
Robb hesitated. "Well? Don't you want to take a dashing boy's hand?" Oh--oh did he.
And he wanted to win a Wicked Luck game against this dashing boy. And he wanted to know why he had left his home, what his favorite color was, what food he liked best--what FLAVOR.
Robb wanted to know him as intimately as a sailor knew the stars.

Her phone beeps and she pulls it out again. She frowns.

I give her a side-eye. "Everything all right?"

She scrolls through her email.

"Earth to Gail?"

Nothing.

"Gail Morgan O'Sullivan."

"What? Oh!" She shoves her phone into her back pocket. "Sorry, sorry. Do you ever feel like you're forgetting something?"

"My underwear. All the time," I say with dead seriousness. "Sometimes I give myself a wedgie just to make sure I have them on.

Quick, when the Nox invaded District Eleven in episode thirty-four, what did Carmindor and Princess Amara do?"

My eyebrows furrow. "They... joined forces?"

He nods gravely. "Elle, would you join forces with me? Together we can defeat the Nox

-Geekerella

I am a nobody, but I'm a nobody who wants to leave the world a little brighter than when she arrived.

Robb glanced over the side of the crate to see for himself.
The headless android twitched and began to rise. If he believed in the Moon Goddess, he'd be praying right now. He'd be praying really, really hard.
And he'd be praying something like, Merciful Goddess, if you exist, please hand my ass to me some other day. I don't want to die, I haven't kissed Jax yet.
That last revelation sent a cold chill down his spine.
He wanted to KISS JAX. He wanted to taste the starlight on his skin and press his lips against the cool curve of his collarbone--

My dad said that anyone could be Carmindor," she says. "That anyone can be Amara. That we have bits and pieces of them inside us. We just have to shine them off and let them glow.