anonymous said:

Hi Kelley... All my friends seem to agree, as do I, that I have a superiority complex. I try hard to be a good person in spite of it, but I don't think I always succeed. Even with the complex, I get upset really easily and I'm insecure and I'm trans or queer, idk, and a POC and I've always felt I had to fight for my confidence because of being a minority and I don't want to overbalance it and act like a prick just because I'm fighting insecurity. Any advice on how to not be a jerk?

First you have to decide if your friends are mistaking confidence for feelings of superiority. Once you’ve determined if you’re feeling superior or not, you can get down to brass tacks. There is definitely a balance that you should try to achieve, but when it comes right down to it, we’re all everything and nothing at the same time. Our lives are like a puff of smoke, here one second and gone the next, and yet we love and feel as big as the universe itself.

So I guess what I’m trying to say is live your life with as clear a conscience as you can, but don’t be afraid to love and/or stand up for yourself.

He hadn’t meant to piss Alex off-but that’s no excuse at all for having done it anyway. A sharp twist of cold shock settles in Sasha’s chest as hands, seemingly small and delicate, find his body and shove him back. He doesn’t overbalance, but it’s a near thing, and he stumbles only slightly as he moves the rest of the way away on his own; guilt clearly shining in his wide, startled eyes as he holds up his hands hesitantly in a placating gesture. 

"I-…"
Try again, McCoy.
"Should I-…"
One more time.
"I’m sorry."
And then, for good measure-
"I’ll go."

notoriousspookyhood said:

"Shut up."

Jason Todd is quite a bit shorter than him, with a slighter build, and, well, human. But it was the suddenness of the attack that made the teenager able to overbalance Clark, leading them both to land against the wall.

The Red Hood grabbed fistfuls of the red cape, yanking the elder down harshly, and leaned up for a rough kiss that would’ve surely left bruises had Clark not been Kryptonian. It was hot and angry, and Jason growled deep in his throat and he demanded attention from the Kryptonian, his lips roughly claiming every inch of the alien mouth, and one hand reached up to grab at Clark’s hair, pulling him closer until he was pressed down against the teen, too shocked to fight, and scared he would hurt the boy if he did anyway.

Eventually, the kiss softened, anger draining as he seemed to beg. For attention, for understanding—something, anything like that from someone so important as Superman. And he was shaking by the end, upset with himself that he let the angry mask off for a few seconds, and he wrenched free, reaching for the helmet.

And Clark caught his wrist. Gentle as always, pulling him back.

"Why are you leaving?" He asked. "I didn’t say no."

So on a summer’s day waves collect, overbalance, and fall; collect and fall; and the whole world seems to be saying ‘that is all’ more and more ponderously, until even the heart in the body which lies in the sun on the beach says too, That is all. Fear no more, says the heart. Fear no more, says the heart, committing its burden to some sea, which sighs collectively for all sorrows, and renews, begins, collects, lets fall. And the body alone listens to the passing bee; the wave breaking; the dog barking, far away barking and barking.
—  Virginia Woolf, Mrs Dalloway

So on a summer’s day waves collect, overbalance, and fall; collect and fall; and the whole world seems to be saying “that is all” more and more ponderously, until even the heart in the body which lies in the sun on the beach says too, that is all. Fear no more, says the heart. Fear no more , says the heart, committing its burden to some sea, which sighs collectively for all sorrows, and renews, begins, collects, lets fall.

 Mrs. Dalloway | Virginia Woolf

azalea-in-time said:

Closet

[7 minutes in heaven]

[8. Make out on the floor.]

The door had hardly clicked shut before X pounced with a grin, using speed and surprise to take advantage of the situation and overbalance Azalea; one arm tightly about her waist, the Doctor wasted no time pressing his lips firmly against hers as they stumbled to the floor, heedless of the limited space despite his taller stature.

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