she knows it will

8

Bellamy and Clarke have always been at the center of this show. It has always been the story of — on some level — Clarke and her relationship to Bellamy. And whether they were going to survive or not depended on how well those two human beings worked together — whether romantic or otherwise. (x)

Jason: “Trini, no!”

Trini: “Trini, yes!”

Kimberly: “Trini, no!”

Trini: “……… Never mind, princesa says no.” 

honestly………i don’t understand why y’all are so convinced that there’s gonna be some massive revenge plot.

like we’ve seen that before with sana. we saw that in s2 when she thought jamilla was writing all those hurtful comments on her photos, and we know how that worked out. sana lost a friend, and it appears that it was one she was pretty close to.

now, these circumstances are definitely different. in this case, sana has much reason to be angry with sara. she’s been hurtful and cruel to her since the beginning, and she deserves to be called out on and face consequences for her shit. but i don’t think sana’s gonna forget what happened last year. i think that’s one of the reasons why they keep showing those texts with jamilla, to remind us what happened. because sana isn’t some vindictive cut-a-bitch who’s going to destroy sara and her empire or some mean girls-type event. she’s a young girl who just wants to be loved, and right now she feels like she’s lost everyone she’s close to–her friends, her brother, the guy she liked. she’s pretty much scared out of her mind all the time that she’s gonna get hurt. and that’s why she puts up those fronts, wears that dark, heavy makeup and wraps her hijab tight, and glares. 

and she knows too that if she lashes out she’ll just look bad. like the angry woc stereotype that they (and much of this fandom i might add) have already projected on her, and she doesn’t want that. she just wants to be seen, really seen for who she is, to love and be loved, to not feel so alone.

tfw you suddenly have a daughter and she comes home

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Things I will ask Tom Felton if I ever meet him*:

1. What do you love about Draco? What do you think his strengths are? (To be clear, I know what he loves about *playing* him. I just wanna hear him compliment some aspect of the character.)
2. If you were going to write a drarry fanfic, how would you get Draco and Harry together?
3. Will you take off your shirt for a minute?

*I reserve the right to add inappropriate questions to this list as they occur to me.

did i ever tell y’all about the time i was homeless and wearing holeyass clothes and walking around with m - another visibly homeless/poor dude - and a woman asked me where the louis vuitton store was? cuz that happened once 

anonymous asked:

You can't just say Kitsune is going to lie about her ability and then just leave us hanging! You've got us curious now. What's Kitsune going to say her ability is?

“That’s the last thing we need,” Akainu snarls, storming through the hallway, “some stupid child playing us off each other.”

Aokiji nods slowly, hands stuffed into his pockets as he lazily saunters along with the man he can only just stand to be in the presence of. Akainu’s ideal of justice is, after all, very far indeed from his own.

Oh course, that’s the point another Akainu crosses their paths, arms piled high with baked goods and a blond marine recruit trailing after… her?

It has to be her, Aokiji is certain he’s got the real Akainu beside him.

It’s only confirmed when the man besides him explodes.

“That damn brat!”

reiswonderlanduk  asked:

G. A fistfight, please!

(You get Flatmates! Everyone gets Flatmates! I like Flatmates) (I just really do wish I’d given it a better name)

Anna initially just waved a hand at Kristoff and Sven when they came into the living room, but she jumped up from the sofa when she saw the blood. “What happened? Are you alright?”

“He’s an idiot is what happened,” Kristoff said, sitting Sven down in the armchair. “Do we have any ice?”

“I think so. Really, what happened? Is your nose broken? You should go to A&E -”

“No,” Sven said, pulling half the tissues out of the box on the coffee table and dabbing at his face. “Ow. Just bleeding. I thought you were going to fucking back me up,” he said to Kristoff.

“How would that have helped. Violence,” he added, rummaging in the freezer for the ice cube tray, “Never solves anything.”

“Is anyone going to tell me what happened?” Anna said plaintively.

“We were leaving the pub,” Kristoff said, “And some gentlemen outside who were rather worse for wear called us a pair of - homophobic slurs, and Sven here, who can’t hold his drink as well as he thinks he can, told them they were cu- c-words. And got punched.”

“…they thought you were a couple?”

“I had my arm round him so he didn’t fall over. But it’s happened before.”

“It has?”

“Yeah,” said Sven. “Coupla times someone’s told us we’re an adorable couple or summat. But you have to challenge people when they’re being homophobic, or racist, or misogo - misaga - sexist,” he continued. “Letting these things slide does no good. For society.” He looked down at his t-shirt, which had a huge red stain on the front of it. “Aw, jesus, Jessica’s going to go spare.

“Then what happened?” Anna said.

“I dragged him out of there before it became a proper fight,” Kristoff said. “Which I think is being a better friend than punching people in return.”

“Of course it is,” Anna said.

“Anna,” Sven said in a small voice, “Anna, will you drive me home please?”

“Of course,” she said. “Anything for my boyfriend’s heterosexual life partner.”