I appreciate you liking my one blerb about Vanderwood!  <3


  • Somehow you let it slip that someone else had confessed to you before Zen had.
  • “Who?!”
  • You tried not to tell him, but after days of pestering you, he finally wore the name out of you.
  • For months, he dialed up his PDA with you about 300% every time the person in question was around.


  • Kind of smug when he finds out you denied someone before going out with him.
  • Not obnoxious, but definitely pleased about it.
  • “You love meeeee…!”
  • Gets extra flirty when the other person is around, for a while.


  • She’s not surprised, because you’re super rad, but she is happy that you picked her, in the end.
  • Is still cordial to whoever was rejected; offers her condolences, because you are great.


  • Frowns.  Is not pleased to hear that somebody else stepped forward before he did.
  • “I clearly had feelings for you.  How did they not see it?  …Or perhaps they wanted to take you away from me.”
  • “You’re overthinking it, husband.”
  • Still polite, but a little cool towards whoever was rejected.  Would keep an extra eye on them to make sure those feelings don’t resurface/that they won’t try again.


  • He always knew.  He watched via the CCTV.
  • He was definitely uncomfortable while it happened.  He wanted to step in, but you weren’t together, yet, so he knew it wasn’t his place.
  • Screwed around with their computer after it happened.  Nothing malicious; just a weird, annoying bug, like their cursor moving against their will, or downloads getting stuck at 69%.


  • Always has his arm around you when the rejected is around.  Kisses you longer than usual while they can see.
  • Very thankful that you rejected them, though.
  • The protectiveness stems more from feeling like he almost lost you, than jealousy


  • He is mature, so he takes it in stride.
  • Is pleased that you chose him over somebody else.
  • Does approach the rejected afterwards and asks if they are completely over you.  If not, he would make sure they would respect your relationship.  All very civil, but he does want the other person to understand how important you are to him.


  • They would shrug it off for everyone except one.
  • Luciel confessed to you?!  What happened?!” he asked, horrified.
  • You gave them a bland look.
  • “I said I loved him back.  We’ve been together, ever since.  We’re married, now, and I’m pregnant with our second child.”
  • “I’m holding my nephew right now,” Saeran added in a deadpan, motioning with his empty arms.
  • “You two suck,” Vanderwood grumbled, starting to walk away.
  • “I love you!” you called to them.
  • “Whatever,” they snapped, calling over their shoulder.
  • They took another three steps before stopping in their tracks.  To your delight, Vanderwood hurried back and brushed their lips against yours.  You smiled at them, and they rolled their eyes.
  • “Shut up…”

anonymous asked:

I really want an angsty fic where Alex gets fed up with Maggie's constant flirting when SHES the one that turned her down. J'onn makes Maggie drop Alex off at home and she tries to give her a glass of water and take care of her, but Alex can't take it when Maggie WONT leave and the glass shatters in her hand but she doesn't even notice because she's livid, livid that Maggie keeps reopening the wound with flirting and constant reminders that "we're FRIENDS Danvers" so, Alex tells her all of this

She rejected her.

She rejected her because she doesn’t like her like that, but she still wants pool tomorrow night.

She rejected her because she doesn’t want her, and it hurts more than it did the first time she got shot without a vest on, but she still wants to flirt and she still wants to touch the small of her back and she still wants to smile at her and melt her from the inside out and she still wants to let Alex catch her staring at her lips over her beer bottle, over her shot glass.

She rejected her, but she still wants to flirt with her, all the while saying they’re friends, friends, friends – looking at her like she wants to strip her then and there, talking to her like she’s about to kiss her, touching her gentle and subtle like they’re dating, laughing too loud and leaning too close but they’re friends, friends, friends – and it’s driving Alex out of her mind.

It’s driving Alex out of her mind because goddamn does she want her.

She wants her, but Maggie made it clear – too clear, painfully clear, clear like a shard of glass driving into her heart and twisting, twisting, twisting – that she doesn’t want her back.

But she’s driving Alex home because J’onn had to head back to the DEO and he trusts this woman with his daughter – trusts her, because he understands much more than Alex does, the real reasons Maggie rejected her. 

Protectiveness. Care. 

Genuine desire buried under genuine fear of causing Alex pain.

“I don’t need your help, Maggie,” Alex slurs slightly, and Maggie furrows her brow at the frustration, the anger, breaking through the surface of Alex’s words.

“It’s no problem, Danvers. What are friends for?” Maggie asks, and Alex rolls her eyes but slumps against the window of the passenger seat, because at least the glass is cool, unlike her body, burning with alcohol, with rage, with confusion, with raw, desperate want.

When she helps her out of the car and into the elevator, Alex hisses because Maggie’s arm around her waist makes her feel safe, loved, wanted.

Which, apparently, she’s not. Wanted.

But she thinks she hears Maggie’s breath hitch at their contact, and it makes her want to scream.

She holds it in until they’re in her apartment, until she tries to leave Maggie at the doorway.

“Alex, you’re really trashed. Please, just let me get you a glass of water, okay?”

Alex huffs and she staggers toward the couch, tossing her hands out behind her aggressively.

“Sure. Do whatever you want, Maggie. It’s what you do anyway, isn’t it?”

Maggie furrows her brow and she flinches like she’s been smacked, but she purses her lips and grabs a glass from the cabinet, filling it in the sink while she watches Alex with careful, scared, sad eyes.

“Here sweetie,” she murmurs absently as she crosses the room and presses the glass into Alex’s hand. “Drink all of it.”

Her voice is warm and her touch is tender and her eyes are so damn loving.

And Alex can’t take it. 

She lets the glass slip from her grasp, crash to the floor, because she’s broken glasses in her hand before, and she’s not in the mood to clean up that kind of mess.

“Whoa Danvers,” Maggie pushes her back gently so none of the shards get on her feet, and it’s that instinctive act of concern, that genuine movement of love, is what breaks Alex.

What lets how livid she is flow out of her body, out of her lips, and straight into Maggie’s skin.

“No! No, you don’t get to be protective of me, Maggie.”

“Alex, what – we’re friends, Alex, what – “

“No, Maggie. We’re not friends. You keep saying that, saying we’re friends, but Maggie, but you damn sure don’t act like it. You’re always flirting and you’re always looking at me like you want me, so what is it, Maggie? Is it the thrill of keeping me wild about you? Flirt with me constantly, even after you rejected me, made it clear that you don’t want me, to make sure I stay hopeful, stay completely yours? Is that what it is, Maggie? Because if it’s not, I don’t know what – “ 

She staggers and she stumbles and Maggie doesn’t hesitate to catch her.

Alex shirks out of her grasp.

“Well?” she demands.

“You’re wrong, Alex.” Her voice is soft and her voice is terrified. Her voice is strained and her voice is firm. “You’re wrong about why I said we shouldn’t be together. You’re wrong. You’re wrong about thinking I don’t want you. Because I do. Want you.”

Alex’s breath hitches and Maggie’s pupils dilate and tears threaten to stain Alex’s cheeks. 

“But that’s not something we’re gonna discuss while you’re drunk. You know what we’re gonna discuss right now?”

Alex can’t speak – can barely breathe – so she shakes her head, her eyes wide, open. 

Anger vanished. 

Humility and hope in its place.

“What are we gonna discuss right now?” she asks, her voice apologetic, her eyes soft.

Maggie smiles gently. 

“We’re gonna discuss where your pajamas are, so you can get changed. And we’re gonna discuss where your toothbrush is, so you can brush your teeth. And we’re gonna negotiate how many glasses of water you’re gonna drink before you go to sleep.”

“And then?” Alex asks, licking her lips, her eyes drifting down to Maggie’s lips.

Maggie shakes her head. “And then you’re gonna point me in the direction of an extra blanket, and I’m gonna curl up on the couch while you sleep in your bed. And if you wake up and need to vomit, you’re gonna wake me so I can help you. And either way, in the morning, I’m gonna take care of you if you’re hungover, and if you’re not, we’ll talk. Okay?”

“Do you always have everything planned out like this, Sawyer?” 

“You gonna tell me a soldier like you doesn’t appreciate it, Danvers?”

Alex grins, now, appreciating the flirtation, now, because maybe, just maybe, Maggie flirts because she likes her back.

Been reading Ms Peregrines Home for Peculiar Children

and this came to mind and he protects the Old cartoons from being “rebooted” and is the only one to interact with characters out of the loop. even the rejects he will protect and care for.

-let me know if this is a character people are willing to interact with-

Santa Muerte Blessing for the Marginalized

Blessed Santa Muerte
Protect the forgotten, the rejected, the unloved
You most holy death, whose love knows no bounds
Who truly embraces all regardless of who or what they are
You who comes to all equally
Let your love and protection flow to those that need it most
To those whom society has abandoned and rejected
Protect those who are most vulnerable with your might scythe
Let those who would take advantage, the bullies and usurpers, know your wrath
Protect those with no strength left to protect themselves
Protect the ones who need you
Oh might Santa Muerte, protect us
Most holy Santa Muerte be with us
We thank you highest one, Amen

Santa Muerte Bendición para los Marginados

Bendita Santa Muerte
Proteger a los olvidados, los rechazados, los que no aman
Altissima Santa Muerte, cuyo amor no conoce límites
Que realmente abarca todo, independientemente de quién o qué están
Usted que llega a todos a mismo moda
Deje que su amor y el flujo de la protección a los que más lo necesitan
Aquellos a quienes la sociedad ha abandonado y rechazado
Proteger a las personas más vulnerables con su guadaña poderosa
Que los que se aprovecharía, los agresores y usurpadores, conocer su ira
Proteger a los que no tienen fuerza para protegerse a sí mismos
Proteger a los que le necesita
Poderosa Santa Muerte, protegernos
Santísima Santa Muerte estar con nosotros
Le agradecemos Altissima, Amén

Sweet Miscommunication

Quotes 12,8,5 with peter pan please?

12. “Maybe a kiss would make it better.”
8. “Now your lips are blue, too.”
5. “I’m not… I don’t… Love is not for me.”

1600 words

“Jolly Rancher?” You held out a few candies in your open palm to Peter, who glanced down at your hand with uncertainty.

“What are those?”

“Candies,” you said, holding out your palm further towards him. He declined, shaking his head, and you shrugged, selecting a blue raspberry one and shoving the rest back into your pocket. “More for me, I guess.” You unwrapped the candy, the sound of crinkling filling the silence between you and Peter as you sat on a bench at the docks in Storybrooke, looking out into the water. Light from the sunset warmed your face as you unceremoniously plopped the Jolly Rancher into your mouth, a small moan escaping your lips.

“You’re missing out,” you hummed, feeling Peter shift where he was sat beside you.

“I’m sure,” the boy drawled, a smirk creeping onto his lips. He sighed, and shifted his body towards you, eager to skip over all the idle chat. “Why did you bring me here?”

You sighed, almost regretting asking him here in the first place. But there were things on your mind that you needed to voice, and you knew that the longer you put it off, the less chance there was of ever telling him. Your tongue shifted the candy to the side of your mouth so that you could speak freely.

“Peter,” you began, unsure as to how to reveal your thoughts to him. “We’ve been close for a good while now, and I wanted to thank you for that. Thank you for being my friend.” Peter smiled at that, his green eyes twinkling as he took you in.

“If anyone should be thankful it’s me, (Y/N). You’ve been so good to me ever since I arrived, and your friendship is far more than I deserve. A villain like me would never have-”

“You’re not a villain,” you cut off, and Peter’s smirk returned to his face.

“I’m sure the rest of the town would beg to differ.” Was he even aware, you wondered, of the joy that he was? Of the the radiant presence he was in your life?

“You know, as much as you piss me off,” you started, and Peter grinned roguishly at that, “I don’t think you’re all that bad, Peter Pan.” He moved to give his thanks, but you stopped him short. “And that’s part of the reason why I asked you to come tonight. I wanted to talk to you.”

Peter casually draped an arm on the back of the bench, right behind where you were sat. “What about, love?” You took a deep breath as you began revealing the reason as to why he was here, and swallowed the last bit of the candy, which had finally dissolved on your tongue.

“The truth is, Peter, that although I have enjoyed our friendship, have relished every bit of it, I have come to realize that I want something else from you, too.” His brows knotted in slight confusion, unsure as to where this was headed. “Peter,” you began again, “I need you to know that you have brought so much happiness and laughter into my life, more that I ever thought I could have. I need you to know that there isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t miss your teasing or think of your smile. Peter, I need you to know that I love-”

“No.” The word was spoken quietly, but firmly. You looked up at Peter, whose eyelids were squeezed shut, brows knotted even further together. He looked as if he was trying to reject the words you were saying, trying to reject you.

“Peter, I-”

“No.” The word was spoken louder this time, more determinedly. You recoiled back from Peter and slid your body away on the bench, taken aback by this reaction. “I can’t, (Y/N). “I’m not… I don’t…” Panic rose within you as you watched the boy struggle with his words. “Love is not for me,” he finally said with a sigh, green eyes opening to meet yours.

You were confused, to say the least. It seemed that for the past few weeks, Peter had been truly warming up to you, more so than ever before. You even had felt that he quite liked you, even wanted you. Had you truly been so wrong? The sun was now long gone, the moon’s silver light flooding the docks as it climbed into the star-filled sky. “But Peter,” you started, eyeing his afflicted gaze. “You said you were thankful for our friendship, thankful-”

“Friendship and nothing more,” Peter cut off. He combed a hand through his dark golden locks, huffing as though the situation distressed him. This only angered you. He was the one distressed right now? You were the one who had practically confessed their love!

“You cannot sit there and honestly tell me that you feel nothing for me,” you said in a low voice, conflicted and doubting the signs you had noticed for the past few weeks. “You cannot tell me that you truly don’t love me too.” Your eyes searched his desperately, looking for any clue that could confirm your suspicions. He had to love you. You knew it. You felt it.

“Love is not for villains like me, (Y/N),” he began, raising a hand to silence you when moved to interrupt. “We get hurt by the ones we love, we hurt the ones we love, and we lose the ones we love. I like you enough to want to save you from that fate, so believe me when I tell you that I do not love you, and want nothing more.” Peter’s lips said one thing, but his eyes…

They were tormented, the forest shades swirling with hints of grief and gloom.

I do not love you.

The words resounded in your mind, and it broke something inside you. So you simply nodded in understanding and rose from your spot, walking away from the bench. From the night.

From Peter.

… … …

He found you the next morning on the same bench, hugging your knees to your chest as you looked out to the sunrise, biting back a smirk as he saw you pull out a candy from your pocket and begin to unwrap it.

“Isn’t a bit early for sweets?” You heard him drawl from behind and didn’t even bother turning as he came around the bench to take a seat beside you. You plopped the turquoise confectionery into your mouth, and sucked pointedly as Peter shifted closer to you. “You must be quite fond of that flavor. Your lips are blue. Is that your favorite color?”

You shook your head, daring to even turn your head towards him as you replied. “Green,” you said, staring into his own emerald eyes.

Peter’s mouth parted at this revelation, eyebrows raising as he remarked, “Oh?”

“It used to be my favorite color, the forest shades something soothing to me, but…” You looked back out the horizon, the dawn pink sky now taking on more yellow colors. “Things change.”

“(Y/N), I am so-”

“You know, I really don’t want to hear it.” Your chin tilted down, eyes boring into the knees you held tightly to your chest. “It was bad enough hearing it once, I don’t need you saying that you don’t want me-”


“And all that crap about how our friendship is the only thing you want for me, because villains don’t-”


“And who are you to decide what you want for me? Whatever, it doesn’t matter, because I am done-

“I love you!”

It was blurted out so quickly you almost missed it amongst all your bitter ramblings, but you heard it. Those three words you had imagined being said to you for quite some time now. Said by him.

You slowly turned your head towards Peter, not daring to believe your ears. His cheeks were tinged pink, chest heaving and heart thundering, and you wondered if this was all a dream, if this was really happening.

“No you don’t,” was all you could think to say in that moment. “You said so yourself. You don’t-”

“I know what I said, and I’m sorry, love. I’m so, so sorry.” The contrition was prominent in his eyes, and hope tugged at your heartstrings. “I didn’t mean any of it. I thought I was protecting you, rejecting your love for me, but…” Peter cupped your face in his hands, thumbs stroking idly, and you released the hold around your legs, allowing them to slump off the bench. You didn’t know if you could move them. You could hardly breathe.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, his voice agonized as he recalled the previous night. “You deserve the truth. I love you, alright? I love you.” And your heart swelled at the words. “How can I make it up to you? Tell me and it’s done.”

You bit back your smile, mind reeling as you innocently shrugged your shoulders, eyes flashing playfully up at his green ones. “Maybe a kiss would make it better,” you suggested casually, and you smiled as he smirked enticingly. Peter tilted up your face, and leaned down, pressing his lips to yours sweetly. The kiss blinded all your other senses, the taste of him filling your mouth, the exquisite feel of his lips taking over you.

When you finally came up for air, you giggled lightly as you murmured against his lips. “Now your lips are blue, too,” you hummed, and Peter chuckled as he caught your lips for another kiss. And your heart soared.

Now or never...

Pairing: Dean x Reader
Word Count: 1,271
Warning(s): some feelings and angst in the beginning but it gets better^^
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. It belongs to Erik Kripke, our god.
A/n: Umm, hey guys. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I haven’t wrote or posted anything for almost a year now. I feel so bad for letting all of you down, but I feel that I’m gaining back my writing skills. I’ll try to post at least once a week from now on. Hope you aren’t mad at me. Anyways, enough with my whining. Let’s get started, shall we? Feedback is WELCOME!!


I tried to say. Tried to actually voice my words. My concerns and opinion. I had to do it. Had to make everything clear. I needed that like one would need to breath…

But I couldn’t…

Keep reading

Mantras for your Monday

1. Everything is in my own best interest.

2. I am more than this physical body.

3. My thoughts show up as my life.

4. I can always change my thoughts.

5. I am responsible for the way I see things.

6. I am entitled to miracles.

7. I have the strength to feel my feelings.

8. There is excitement in feeling vulnerable.

9. Fear is just a call for love.

10. I have a purpose.

11. I am free to constantly expand and try new things.

12. I will follow my excitement.

13. I deserve love and will not settle for less.

14. Everyone I meet is a reflection of me and/or a teacher.

15. I trust where I am right now.

16. I am worthy and valuable.

17. My success is not defined by external things.

18. I am enough. Right. Now.

19. I will give what I want to receive.

20. Rejection is just protection and redirection.

I had this hopeless crush on a guy when I was 17. I wanted to be with him so badly and he never liked me back. That hurt me so much back then. Years passed and I saw him again when we were both 40. His beauty had gone away and all that was left was his empty personnality. He was unhappy, married to some boring women who never smiled. He looked at me and said “Oh, how I wish I had chosen you. My life would be so different. You loved me and you would’ve made me happy. ” And in that moment, I realized that rejection is god’s protection. Because 20 years later, I wasn’t the one he had married, but I was the one on his mind when he had boring sex with his boring wife. So don’t worry if this guy doesn’t realize what he’s got, sometimes the worst thing that can happen to you is getting what you want.
—  My mother

Lars starts and leads a alien rebellion with the Off Color gems and they start to fight the home world gems on their planet. They could have a advantage sneaking around and invading their planet. Lars felt so useless on earth but something about wanting to protect these rejected gems have made him face his fears, be so brave and actually fight back.
Just like how the crystal gems fight for the humans
The off color gems can fight for the rejected gems and all the other planets being invaded like earth.

Highlights of Antibug (according to me, a person who doesn’t know french)

When Marinette and Adrien used the same excuse (like how do they not know yet?)

They are really alike

Like seriously

honestly I just wanted them on the same screen together

Chat asking Ladybug what’s wrong just look at him omg

When Chloe accidentally slapped Jagged Stone with her hair

When Chat tried to give Ladybug a rose

her rejection, and his face

Chat’s protectiveness for Ladybug

Chat in a pot 


With her anti-charm (suits Chloe, am I right?)

“Me and chat are a great couple team

Tikki’s adorable eating and ignorance to the danger

thE IRONY IN THIS SCENE (chat’s asking if it’s ladybug)


THE CLOSE PROXIMITY plus mari’s face lmao


chat’s reaction through all of it omg




Them whispering together just cause

Cinnamon rolls Ladybug and Adrian

Hyde’s Core Characterization

The writing and characterization on That ‘70s Show is inconsistent, but one can come up with a core characterization for each of the main characters based on a selection of episodes that define and depict them consistently. The characters’ personalities, goals, and feelings can – and should – be complex, as long as those complexities are substantiated by consistent actions and subtext.

I often write about certain behavior and choices I consider OOC for the characters. I do so because I’ve formed my understanding of their core characterization from a specific set of episodes. I write my T7S fanfic from this understanding, too. When a character acts contrary to previously established beliefs/feelings/behavior without a proper grounding for that contradiction, I consider those actions OOC.

My understanding of the characters’ true natures isn’t the only valid one. People can form their own understanding from a different selection or interpretation of the episodes.

But below the cut is a list of S1-S4 episodes, with explanations, from which I’ve formed my version of Hyde’s core characterization. I don’t list episodes from S5-S7 because they either confirm, further, and deepen what’s already been established – or they evolve/devolve Hyde’s character based on his core.

Keep reading

Dear fellow white immigrants, if you like to compare your experiences to immigrants of color, you better cut that shit out. Because while it may have been awful for you because of some xenophobic assholes, you didn’t have to deal with racism on top of it. Especially considering that most of us white immigrants are just as racist and xenophobic towards each other, as native populations are towards us. I hear just as much toxic, racist bullshit coming from my own immigrant community as I do from the [white] Americans.

I’ve been called names, spat on, yelled at to speak “American”, told to go back to my own country, and laughed at when my English was broken by both children and adults. In college, I was told by a fucking career specialist not to put “Fluent in Russian” on my resume because no one would hire me to be a professional writer because of my last name [they’d think less of me for not being a native speaker - showed her didn’t I?].  (Also, don’t compare learning a fucking European language to people of color learning English. You don’t know what it’s like to be treated like shit because you can’t speak English, to be treated like you don’t deserve to be there. You’re learning the language to “appreciate a culture” they’re learning the language in order to survive living in the culture that continuously rejects them.)

My whiteness protects me from being called terrorist, from being told I set feminism back decades because of my religious choices, from being refused service, or being profiled  and seen as suspicious on the subway or planes because of the color of my skin. My Indian coworker was’t sure about carrying his briefcase after there was a bomb-threat in Boston, my boss didn’t want to take his katana (a gift someone gave him) home with him because he knew he couldn’t go outside or on a subway with it. He actually had to bring his car to take it home.

Even though I’m an immigrant, I still get a shit ton of white privilege, and sometimes I’m even treated better than people who lived in US their whole lives. Two cop cars came to my house while my friend’s husband waited in the car for her because someone called it in as “suspicious” because he was waiting in the car while black. I fucking ran outside because scenes from Ferguson flashed in my head and I knew they’d believe a tiny white girl over a black man.

So yeah, we might get shit on for being immigrants, but we sure as hell don’t get as much shit as immigrants of color. So shut the hell up, pay attention, and don’t let them turn us against each other. Because if you don’t notice the preferential treatment white immigrants get over our fellow immigrants of color or even native people of color, you’re just another willfully blind, ignorant, racist, asshole.

So I’ve been reading a lot of posts criticizing Hinata for knitting a scarf whilst her sister was in danger.

In keeping with the most prominent theme in the Naruto-verse, heroes are those who would stop at nothing to protect their siblings/friends and I’d argue that Hinata absolutely demonstrated heroism when it came to her sister

First of all, 

May I remind everyone of this scene

Toneri confronted Hinata on her own and expressed his desire to marry her. 

Obviously she refused and demanded to know where her sister was. 

He reveals he has stolen Hanabi’s Byakugan. Highlighting how dangerous and serious he is, and then claims we will spare Hanabi’s life and return her eyes if Hinata accepts his marriage proposal. 

This entire scene is not revealed to the viewer until after we see Hinata knitting away in the next few scenes.

I think it is pretty clear that Hinata had decided to agree to Toneri’s terms very early on and is only so desperate refurbish her gift to Naruto because she had to express her feelings in the only way she felt confident before she lost him forever. 

Hinata agrees to sacrafice herself for her sister and turns herself over to a stranger who wants her as a wife. 

That is so fucked up. 

Hinata doesn’t deserve criticism for this, but praise. No she’s not as strong as other characters who have protected their siblings (Itachi for instance) and in the end she required everyone’s help to save her sister. 

But she god damn tried and did everything she could. She put herself on the line and forcibly rejected Naruto’s feelings to protect her family. 

I’d want her as a sister.