You need another English credit. You already have thousands of English credits. They fill up your room and chase you down the street. You are drowning. You need another English credit.
You have an essay due tomorrow. You always have an essay due tomorrow. Tomorrow never comes. You must keep working on the essay. It’s due tomorrow.
Everyone is getting undercuts. Under what? You are never sure what lies Beneath. But sometimes, you see the Void.
You need classes in different areas for a full education. You go to these areas. Your feet are blistered and bleeding. You must find all the areas.
There is a Party In The Woods. It is exactly like the last one. You fear you are stuck in a time loop, but by then it is too late. Someone sells you a plastic cup of PBR for five dollars.
You know everyone on campus. Their faces, their tattoos, and their souls. You start walking with your eyes closed: you do not want to see.
There are sports teams. They whisper restlessly around the edges of campus. If you look directly at them, they disappear. But once in a while, you can hear them scream. You do not know if it is celebratory or scared.
Straight boys feel alone. There are so few of them. There are straight boys everywhere you look. They feel so alone.
“This way is more environmentally sound,” they say. You can hear the environmental sound. It sounds like Nicki Minaj.
School is not The Real World. Objects crumble under your touch. Your professors are translucent. Your books are in an ancient tongue. This Is Not The Real World.
Bitty loves Seattle as much as a southerner can love a city that barely sees the sunshine, and he loves his boys, but god bless it if he doesn’t cross his fingers and toes every year hoping to get picked up by a Metropolitan team so he can at least live on the same coast as Jack.
For a few blissful months every year, Bitty gets his husband back; and promptly does none of what he’s planned to do with said husband.
(Also, point-of-order, Jack’s three-year, 1.2 million a year Falconers contract is on the lower end of the spectrum. The average (2016) NHL salary is around 2.9 mil a year, meaning Jack went pretty cheap for someone being scouted by so many teams. Did our beloved Canadian hockey robot turn down mad-money elsewhere to sign with the Falconers? Probably.)
They’re both snuggled up together in a rare moment of post-season calm. Neither are keen to move any more than the absolutely have to; tucked into lopsided couch cushions while the television plays split-screened between another film missed in theaters and the NHL Network.
It’s been a long, hard-fought season for them both: the Falconers knocked out of the playoffs in the second round, the Schooners barely making a dent in the first. Combine that with their newfound ‘chronic’ injuries and Bitty is happy to just lie here, mindlessly groping any part of Jack he can reach: he’s currently got a handful of pec, while Jack alternates between Bitty’s ass and lower back. It’s not arousing at all, just comfortable; until Jack’s wandering fingers hit a sore spot.
You run your fingertips along the tender parts of your neck. A knot had formed under your skin weeks ago. You really needed to get that checked out, but you also really needed to meet your deadline. At this point your work was more important than your health. There was a lot riding on this project, a possible entire rebranding of one of the most powerful companies in the world. And you were the one responsible.
There were times when you were in the middle of a long stretch of work when the night on his desk would flash through your mind. You would think about the wood pressed against your back in the middle of analyzing sales figures for the past 10 years. You could feel his breath on your throat in the middle of sending one of board members a strongly worded e-mail.
You hated how every touch was imprinted in the back of your brain. The asshole in Armani was in your head every time you closed your eyes. Your body started to tingle every time you passed by his office, knowing that maple desk was on the other side of it’s walls.
You hated it.
You hadn’t seen him since that night. He was conveniently shipped out overseas to check on some of the international branches of the corporation he inherited. You were glad, for the most part. It gave you time to detach yourself from that night and bury yourself in your work. Hoping that by the time he came back to the office you wouldn’t want to shove him against a wall and repeat the night on the desk.
Pidge snickered silently, creeping up behind Lance. Lance was cleaning the airlock on Corans request. He was hesitant at first, after what happened but if it was for Coran (who’d become a second father to the boy) he’d do it. Lance had no clue Pidge was behind him, slowly reaching her hand to the air lock seal. She quickly pressed it, cackling loudly when it closed. Lances heart sank and his eyes widened. He quickly turned around but Pidge was gone, he pounded on the glass, trying to keep calm. But no one came. Panick started to set in and he began shaking. He tried not to scream but eventually he broke. Hysterically hitting the glass, begging for someone, ANYONE to get him out. The walls were closing in on him and it was getting hard to breath. His knees buckled and he fell to the ground.
“Please! Please! Someone! Anyone!” He sobbed. He was crying so hard he didn’t see Shiro walking down the hall. As soon as Shiro caught glimpse of the blue Paladin, he was there in a heart beat. He opened the seal and scooped Lance up, Lance melted into his chest, still shaking, still sobbing, still panicked.
“Shhh, shhh.” Shiro tried, “you’re okay, you’re okay now.” He carried him down the hall and soon his cries got the attention of the rest.
“What- why’s Lance crying?” Hunk immediatly inquired.
“I-I don’t know, I found him in the air lock, it was sealed, he was hysterical.” Shiro answered.
“That’s because when the castle was corrupted by the crystal it locked him in and he almost died.” Keith cut in. “Who fucking locked him in there?” He snarled, now he was mad. Lance still had nightmares about that.
“How do you know someon-”
“Because he never would’ve closed that fucking door! He’d afriad of walking PAST the damn thing, let alone closing the door.”
“I-It was m-me..” Pidge stuttered. “It was just a joke, a harmless prank! I didn’t know- I didn’t mean-”
“It’s okay Pidge, just be careful alright?” Shiro soothed. “We just have to get Lance to calm down, he’s still shaking…”
“Hunk, come with me to grab all the pillows in the castle, keith, you and Allura grab all the blankets then meet back here. We’re making a blanket for for him. Shiro you don’t let him go, he needs someone right now.” And so everyone did as they were told.
Shiro sat on the couch, Lance still in his arms, He would’ve done the same if Shiro needed it. Shiro undersrood what it was like, PTSD, what Lance was going through. His shaking hadn’t gotten any better and he hadn’t spoken a single word. By now Shiros shirt was wet, he didn’t really mind much. Lance needed help and as his friend he was providing. Lances grip on Shiros shirt was tight, again, Shiro really didn’t mind. Not long after they all came back and set up. By then Lance had calmed slightly, he was no longer stuck in his head, he was aware of what was going on around him. His shaking wasn’t as bad and his breathing was better too. He slowly slid off Shiros lap and onto the pillows. Hunk sat on one side of him, Keith on the other, holding his hand. Pidge sat between his legs.
“I’m sorry Lance-” she pushed her glasses up. “I didn’t mean any harm.”
“I-It’s okay.” He whispered.
They spent the rest of the night cuddling as a team until Lance calmed down.
dan saying ‘if he wasn’t behaving for the gaming channel’ is the equivalent to two husbands at a football game and one of them is holding the sides of his fold up chair tightly and the other is conspiratorially whispering to the team mom that his husband is about to run onto the field and tell off the referee even though he has no clue what’s going on but at the end of the game they win and the kid gets a capri sun and some cool ranch doritos and both hubbies are happy and pretend like the first husband wasn’t about to pop off
Only those not paying attention / taking it at face value / or looking for something to complain about… actually believe The Joker was pimping out or “giving” Harley to Monster T.
The Joker barely registered Monster T when he sat at the table. He didn’t look at him, shake his hand or say a word (though in the extended version he responds sarcastically). The second Monster T called Harley a ‘bad bitch’, the performance started and he became his best friend. Those who are around Joker a lot, like Frost, will have seen this before, and knew he was dead.
Why do you think when Joker calls Harley over, and tells her “you belong to him now” she doesn’t even blink twice and just happily sits on his knee? It’s not because she’s used to being given away, it’s because she’s playing along.
Monster T soon understands his mistake and quickly tries to backtrack while keeping calm. But he’s already been backed into a corner. When Joker mimics Monster T with “you don’t want no beef?!” he’s really saying - ‘it’s too late’.
Notice the watches on Harley’s arm. These are obviously murder tokens from the men they have done this to before.
What you are watching here, is two cats playing with a mouse before they eat it. A mouse that swaggered in thinking it was a dog.
DCEU Joker and Harley seem to operate as a sort of tag team. No whispers, no winks, no signals. They just know. There is no way this Joker who searched for Harley for so long would ‘give her away’. And there is no way the Harley that chased down her Mr J on a motorcycle would leave so easily.
They are King and Queen of Gotham, and they don’t share.
Note: my 9 month old dog passed away and I needed this… I might end up deleting it, I’m not sure.. .c
“Do you need a hug?”
That question has been asked multiple times today, in light of recent events. You had a friend, a loyal companion, a trustworthy dog that never left your side. She was young and full of life; sadly, it ended much too soon. You tried to cry but you couldn’t, only left with an empty feeling in your chest that you couldn’t shake. You missed hearing her bark and the sight of her wagging tail was etched into your mind for good.
The world felt different-it felt strange and unbalanced; your entire being was thrown off, leaving you with a gaping hole in your chest that only your precious dog could fill. You stayed with her until her last breath, keeping your eyes on hers-whispering to her how much she changed your life during the short time she was here, and how much you love her.
Clint offered you a spot in his backyard; a peaceful place she could rest and you could return to as needed. You declined at first, but came to realize that New York was no place for such a full-of-life dog your precious baby had been. She always loved visiting Clint’s home, after all.
You stood in silence as you watched your friends slide her stiff body in a black bag, their silent tears falling onto the material. Your bottom lip quivered as tears returned into your eyes, but never once fell. They stung, but it was no match for the stinging you felt resonate deep within your bones.
Her death was so sudden and Bruce tried so hard to help her. But it wasn’t how it was supposed to end. You cursed yourself for not doing more to help her, but you simply couldn’t. You were no match for death; it takes everyone. Everyone you’ve ever loved, and everyone you will love in time.
“Do you need a hug?” You heard a soft voice whisper by your side. You slowly turned your head away from the teams disappearing bodies as they left your room to get into the elevator. Wanda looked at you with a look of sorrow and an unsaid apology. You gently shook your head and swallowed dryly. You couldn’t remember the last time you had anything to drink, let alone sleep or food.
“Let me know if you need anything.” She said, running her hand up and down your back, soothing you in any way she thought she could. You nodded to her and she left, leaving you to stand in the middle of your room, alone, your eyes moving back towards the pool of still warm blood on your floor. The others were making their way to the jet and you soon made your way there, joining them.
The black bag was off to the side, your eyes glued to it, hoping to see it move up and down-the sign of life seeping back into your girls body. But nothing happened, no matter how strongly you willed it to. Nothing happened.
“Do you need a hug?” You heard Natasha ask, only just a few minutes after Sam and Steve asked you on separate occasions. You tried to speak, but your mouth only opened for a split second, closing soon after. She took your silence as a ‘no’ and left a lingering kiss on your head. Her body moved towards the middle of the jet, joining the others in hushed whispers.
As you exited the jet, having landed near Clint’s country home, you lingered behind everyone else. You felt drained and you were in no rush to lay your dog to rest in the ground. Your eyes scanned the beauty of Clint’s yard. If she were here right now, her tongue would be flapping in the wind, her paws carrying her across the large yard, happiness radiating from her.
You finally reached the others and they all turned to you, giving you wholehearted smiles. Bruce, Tony, and Sam were digging the hole, the rich red colored dirt being tossed aside into a pile with shovels. The motionless bag lay near the fence, right underneath the tree she always rested under after running herself crazy in the heat of the burning sun.
Laura brought out a tray of cups filled with her homemade lemonade for the team, her eyes landing on you lastly. She gently offered you a cup but you kindly declined with the raise of your hand. Laura nodded and set the tray down, sticking her hands in her back pockets.
“We enjoyed having her here. Especially the kids.” She said with a small smile. The wind blew just a bit, strands of her hair whistling about her face. Her hand raised to move them away and she sighed. “I’m really sorry, Y/N.” Laura whispered, reaching her hand to rub your arm.
You smiled at her and licked your dry lips, turning your eyes back to the almost deep hole. Everyone stood around, nursing their lemonade and thinking about their favorite memories with your dog. They all loved her, and she loved all of them.
Time passed and she was finally buried, a wooden stake with her name carved into it was stuck in the ground near where her head lay beneath. The team slowly spread out, leaving you alone with her. Though one particular person stayed behind, off to the side, wanting to be here for you in case you needed them.
His blue eyes remained on the back of your head, his eyes watering as he heard a sob finally break through your parted mouth. He slowly approached you and he swore he could physically feel his heart break as you fell to your knees, your hands grasping at the green grass.
You cried hard and you didn’t care. You missed your dog and you needed her. Bucky sat beside you on his knees, leaving his hand mere inches from your back. “Y/N…” He whispered softly, not wanting to startle you. All you could do was cry and shake your head, praying she would miraculously come back to life and lick the salty liquid from your cheeks like she had done many times before.
You choked on your sobs and your chest heaved up and down. As you caught your breath and wiped at your cheeks, you took a deep breath. “Bucky?” Your voice cracked as you turned to look at him. His blue eyes were threatening to spill his own tears and he waited for you to speak again.
“I need a hug.” You whimpered out, another strong sob racking through your body. Bucky instantly pulled you into his chest, his large arms holding you tightly against him. Your hands gripped onto him, your knuckles nearly white from the intense pressure. Bucky rocked you back and forth, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as you cried out into his chest.
You lost track of time as the sun began to set and the temperature dropped just a tad. Bucky had his arms wrapped around your waist as you rested your back against his chest, your laughs mingling together as you talked about your sweet dog and the many moments you two shared with her.
“Remember when she got into Sam’s room and took his running shoes?” Bucky asked, a breathy chuckle vibrating against your back. You let out a laugh and threw your head back against Bucky’s shoulder. “He was so mad! He couldn’t run for two days until Steve brought back a brand new pair.” Your laughter died down and you sighed with a small still on your face.
“She was amazing.” Bucky sighed, his arms tightening around you. You nodded in agreement and sniffled. “Thank you, Bucky.” You said softly, turning in his hold to look up at him. He smiled down at you and brought his hand up to wipe at your tear stained cheeks.
“Anytime, Doll. Anytime.”
Note: this helped me, a lot. please, hug your pets and treat them well. .c
Clarke and Lexa are rival cheerleading captains with a little too much sexual tension. They both stay in the same hotel with their teams for a competition.
“I want absolutely no fraternization,” the coach said as he placed his hands on his hips and moved up and down the sidewalk in front of the hotel. “There will be no pranking, no fighting, no yelling, no touching, no post cards, no letters, no hugging, no anything, with the opposing team. Am I understood?”
So nice to see your face again, tell me how long has it been Since you’ve been here. You look so different than before But still the person I adore, frozen with fear
HYDRA had kidnapped [Y/N] for leverage on Captain America back in the forties. Little did they know that even though [Y/N] was a good friend of Steve Rogers, she would have been more useful in using her against Sergeant Barnes. She was the love of his life, the one dame who could take his breath away every single time she walked into a room. She had powers over him that he never thought a woman could have. But, sure enough [Y/N] had them and fell just as hard.
Fast forward to when HYDRA had their files leaked, JARVIS caught and deciphered most of them. Leaving Steve with the information that a girl he had grown up with was frozen in time just like he had been. There was no argument on whether or not he would go get her because before he could discuss with anyone, he was already on his way.
It took months for her cope with the fact that her last memory was being bound and gagged against her will with scientists hooking IV’s and strange equipment to her body and then the next, she was waking up to a familiar face but in an unfamiliar time. Struggle was an understatement because she couldn’t understand how any of the things she was going through was actually happening.
But, time was the only thing that would help her. And eventually, she adapted. [Y/N] wasn’t quite as strong as the others but where she lacked in strength, she made up for in her precision. [Y/N] could calculate fight sequences before they happened, and it was like every weapon you threw in her hand, she knew exactly how to use it despite the fact that she had never picked up one prior. It was scary how she never missed and [Y/N] couldn’t even begin to tell you how she knew how to do some of things that she could do. She just knew.
“The Winter Soldier’s a ghost, huh?” [Y/N] said sarcastically as she watch the shadow move across the rooftops through her scope. Re-positioning the rifle against her shoulder, she looked through the scope again. “Looks well and alive to me.”
“Do you have a clear shot?” Steve asked.
“Oh yeah, I’ve got a real clear shot.” Zooming her scope in, “Do we want him dead or alive?”
“Alive.” Steve growled.
[Y/N] chuckled, “Alive it is.” Just as she was about to move her aim towards the man’s shoulder, she caught sight of a pair of eyes that she hadn’t seen in a long time. “No.” She whispered, low enough for her team members to not hear.
“Hello? [Y/N] you going to take the shot?” Natasha asked, her tone a little annoyed. “He’s going to get away!”
Struggling to regain her focus, she desperately tried to get a good aim on him before he ducked down between two buildings. Cursing in her head, she yanked the rifle away from herself. Running her hands through her hair, she kicked the rooftop railing. “Steve, private talk, now.”
In minutes, the kid she knew from Brooklyn was waltzing through the rooftop stairwell. His face was laced with concern and slight annoyance. “[Y/N]? What happened? You said you had a clear shot.” He removed his earpiece and turned it off, watching as [Y/N] did the same.
[Y/N] inhaled deeply, her eyes staring up at the dark sky. “I never asked you about Bucky because I didn’t want to know.”
Steve’s brows knitted together, he had always wondered why [Y/N] never asked about Bucky. At first, he thought it was because she didn’t remember but after she started to recall memories, it didn’t make sense why she didn’t ask about the man who swept her off her feet all those years ago. “Okay? I’m not trying to be insensitive right now, [Y/N], because I know how much Buck meant to you but why is this relevant?”
She ignored his question, “What did Bucky and I used to tell each other every single day before we left to go our separate ways?”
Steve could never forget, it was like clockwork every time they’d say goodbye or goodnight to each other. Steve had so desperately wanted a relationship like that, to look a girl and just have the words slip right out his mouth before he even thought about them. “Bucky would ask you to smile and he’d say, ‘you’ve got the best damn smile in this town, a smile I could never forget even if I tried.’ And you would follow with, ‘and you’ve got the best damn pair of blue eyes I’ve ever seen, eyes I will never forget in a million years.’”
[Y/N] smiled, trying to remember the last time they had shared those loving words. She wasn’t sure if he actually meant it, but she sure did. “I meant that, every single word.”
Steve nodded, unsure of where this was going but not going to interrupt her trip down memory lane because perhaps this was why she missed the opportunity to shoot the Winter Soldier. If she needed to vent, Steve wasn’t going to stop her. “I know, and Buck did too.”
“Steve, what exactly happened to Bucky?”
He inhaled, “Long story short and to spare you the details, he died during one of our missions.”
[Y/N] turned away from him, looking at the spot where the Winter Soldier had just been. “What was the mission?”
“To destroy HYDRA bases,” Steve stepped forward, concerned. “[Y/N] why are you suddenly interested in this now?”
A tear slid down her cheek, as she turned to face Steve. “You and I are not the only ones who were frozen in time.” Inhaling deeply, she firmly spoke through her teeth. “The Winter Soldier is a ghost, Steve. It’s Bucky, I know because I saw his eyes.”
Kind of tempted to do a part two. Anyone interested?