beat yard

4

Protect me? From what? The worst thing that ever happened to me, happened in my own front yard. Life beats you up Titus, it doesn’t matter if you get tooken by a cult or you’ve been rejected over an over an over again on auditions. You can either curl up in a ball and die, like Cindy did that time, or you can stand up and say: “we’re different, we’re the strong ones and you can’t break us”.

"Do you have any proof?"

This took place in a golf tournament I was playing in a few years ago.

There was a long drive contest on the 18th hole. The way a long drive competition works in a tournament is there is a little marker with a pad of paper on it out in the fairway. If you hit your ball in the fairway past the marker, you sign the paper, and place the marker next to where your ball was. It’s an honor system sort of thing, but then again, that’s golf for you.

I was in the second-to-last group, one of my good friends was in the group behind me. I step up to the tee, tee up, and free the beast all over that golf ball. By some fluke, it ends up drawing down the right side of the fairway. I crushed this thing. Based on yardage left, I hit this ball a little over 330 yards. I had the previous long drive beat by almost 20 yards. I happily signed the marker, and put it next to my ball.

After I finished the hole, I walked off the green, and watched the foursome behind us tee off and play the hole in. You know, waiting for my friend, and to see if anybody beat my drive. Now, the men’s tee box that we were supposed to play from was on the left side of the hole, and the ladies was 40 or so yards up and on the right side of the hole. I saw one of the guys tee up from the ladies tee, hit his drive, walk up, sign the marker, and move it to his ball. That sh*t ain’t right.

They finish the hole, and my friend comes up to me and confirms my suspicions. This chucklef*ck had hit from the ladies tee and taken my long drive. He beat me by two yards. I went up to the a**hole, and had this conversation with him.

Me: “Are you really going to take that drive?”
Him: “Yep.”
Me: “That’s cheating, chief. You didn’t win.”
Him: “Do you have any proof?”

Well, f*ck. It’s his word against mine. The other guys in his foursome are his friends. My jimmies are at maximum overrustle.

We go to the post-tournament dinner. Sure enough, when they call the long drive winner up, this smug f*cknut goes up and collects his (my) $50 Tim Hortons gift card.

Oh, but what’s this? He dropped something when he stood up. It’s his door prize raffle ticket. It’s number 77. Well, I’m just going to take this, you know, for my troubles. I lean over in my chair, and snag it off the floor.

An hour later, we’re at the final prize. It’s the door prize draw. The prize? A $1000 MasterCard prepaid gift card. The MC rifles through the drum with the tickets. The universe must have been on my side that day, because the MC pulls out a ticket, and speaks into the microphone.

“The winner of the MasterCard prepaid card is… Ticket 77.”

A**hole McTerribleperson loses his sh*t. He’s jumping up and down, yelling “I won I won I won ohmygod I won!”

He runs up to the front to the MC, who then asks for the winning ticket.

F*ckface sticks his hand in his back pocket. Then his other back pocket. Then the side pockets. His face looks like he just watched his dog just get run over. Repeatedly.

I’m crazy excited at this point, but I make a show of checking my ticket. Then I hold up the ticket and call out,

“I got it!”

I run up to the front, and give it to the MC.

Douchebag McGee isn’t happy about this. He starts yelling about how I stole his ticket and ticket 77 was totally his and I’m a cheater and a liar.

I look him dead in the eyes, and ask him deadpan “do you have any proof?”
He looks like he’s about to cry. The MC sends him to sit down, and I collect the $1000 dollar gift card.

Because I’m the type to salt the wound, as I leave, I walk past his table, and say quietly to him “Enjoy your Tim card. You deserve it.”

Pretty sure he popped a blood vessel. But I didn’t stick around to find out. I had beers to buy for my friends.

Petty Revenge: Internet`s best petty revenge stories are here. | credit

Ronald: Okay I admit it, I still can’t swim. I never actually took those lessons at the community pool.

Alan: Ronald you promised!

Ronald: I know, but they wanted to put me in the beginners class. With a bunch of kids! They can be so cruel when they sense weakness.

Eric: That’s why on the first day you gotta find the biggest one in the yard and beat them up.

Alan: Eric that’s prison.

Eric: Only if you let it be.

  • Jim: alright fine, i never took those swimming lessons at the local pool! they wanted to put me in the beginners class with the five year olds and they can be so cruel.
  • Toby: that's why on the first day you find the biggest one in the yard and beat him up
  • Claire: toby, that's prison.
  • Toby: only if you let it be

anonymous asked:

Prompt: A Breakfast club AU for bellarke? Thanks!

I’ve seen the Breakfast club too many times to count so I enjoyed this prompt a lot. Thanks for sending it, I hope you like it! 

A big thanks to theoriginalvintagepanda for beta reading this fanfic (and the previous ones) and making it legible! 


Title: SATURDAY 

She would rather be painting, looking for that elusive tone of blue for the sea waves.

Clarke looked at the library with a resigned expression. It was her first time in detention and she was surrounded by the most problematic students of Ark High School. Their silent company was actually better than her mother’s constant nagging, but she couldn’t stand the thought of a whole day wasted doing absolutely nothing. She was a practical girl with a lot of aspirations; a whole day without something to do was unthinkable.

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He Bullies You (Luke Hemmings)

Requested by @i-n-d-i-e-ot

4 years.

 It’s been 4 years.

 4 years since I’ve been happy.

4 years since I wasn't’ scared of talking that damn 20 minute walk.

4 years since he didn’t make my life a living hell.

Who is he? 

Two words.

Luke Hemmings.

Ever since I started my freshmen year of school, him and his friends made it their ultimate goal to make my life a living hell. And he has. Everyday, shoving, pushing, calling names, beating, the whole nine-yards. I sigh as I stand outside my locker, counting down the seconds until-

“Hey loser!”

Zero.

“H-hi Luke” I hold my books close, so he wouldn’t smack them onto the floor, but to no avail. As I feel the burn in my throat from trying to hold the tears back, I realize that he’s alone. I have to say, Luke was the nicest out of all of them, just calling me names and the occasional slap and punch, but never beat me like his friends did. I always felt a little safer with just him, knowing that I’m not going to come home with a black eye and busted lip.

“Do you have my money?” He demands–well, tried to. He always tried to be as tough as his friends so he doesn’t seem weak, but he’s always been a softie.

“N-no…” I cry. My drunken mother spent it all on beer I add in my head. Next thing I know I’m being held up my my neck, choking, unable to breathe. I desperately try to pry his hands from my neck, my sleeve rolling up. The minute he see’s my wrists, his eyes soften, his grip slipping until he lets go, letting me fall onto the floor–so I thought. I was expecting the hard impact of the cold floor, but it never came. I open my eyes to see that I was being held bridal style as He turns to put his back against the locker. I was put down as I stand in front of him, his stone hard face soft and scared,

“W-who did this to you?” He quietly asks.

“Did what….”

“Oh don’t play dumb,” He grabs my wrist, exposing my bruises and cuts.

“Who did THAT to you. Those bruises are fresh, and I know that neither Ashton, Calum or Michael hasn’t touched you.” And that’s when I break down.

“M-my mom!” I sob.

“T-that d-drunken bitch h-hurt me again t-th-this morning!” I cry even harder as he pulls my into his chest, stroking my hair.

“I’m so sorry…” He says, I could hear him fighting back the tears as he pulls away facing me.

“I’m so sorry Y/N, for all that has happened to you. You don’t deserve any of what Has happened. You deserve so much better. I’m so stupid. When I first saw you, I had the biggest crush, but I thought things would never work out. So I thought that if I bullied you, all of my feeling would go away, but they didn’t. They grew stronger. Now I know things would never happen, but please, forgive me, I’m so sorry!” He cries into my shoulder.

“8 o’clock” I smirk, looking at confused face.

“What…?”

“For our date. Pick me up at 8″

“But-” He begins, fighting back a smile, but I quickly cut him off.

“Luke, this is your last chance to go out with your crush, it’s now or never.” He smiles, his blue eyes beaming with glee.

“8 O’clock then”

Kiss

"Do you have any proof?"

This took place in a golf tournament I was playing in a few years ago.

There was a long drive contest on the 18th hole. The way a long drive competition works in a tournament is there is a little marker with a pad of paper on it out in the fairway. If you hit your ball in the fairway past the marker, you sign the paper, and place the marker next to where your ball was. It’s an honor system sort of thing, but then again, that’s golf for you.

I was in the second-to-last group, one of my good friends was in the group behind me. I step up to the tee, tee up, and free the beast all over that golf ball. By some fluke, it ends up drawing down the right side of the fairway. I crushed this thing. Based on yardage left, I hit this ball a little over 330 yards. I had the previous long drive beat by almost 20 yards. I happily signed the marker, and put it next to my ball.

After I finished the hole, I walked off the green, and watched the foursome behind us tee off and play the hole in. You know, waiting for my friend, and to see if anybody beat my drive. Now, the men’s tee box that we were supposed to play from was on the left side of the hole, and the ladies was 40 or so yards up and on the right side of the hole. I saw one of the guys tee up from the ladies tee, hit his drive, walk up, sign the marker, and move it to his ball. That shit ain’t right.

They finish the hole, and my friend comes up to me and confirms my suspicions. This chucklefuck had hit from the ladies tee and taken my long drive. He beat me by two yards. I went up to the asshole, and had this conversation with him.

Me: “Are you really going to take that drive?”

Him: “Yep.”

Me: “That’s cheating, chief. You didn’t win.”

Him: “Do you have any proof?”

Well, fuck. It’s his word against mine. The other guys in his foursome are his friends. My jimmies are at maximum overrustle.

We go to the post-tournament dinner. Sure enough, when they call the long drive winner up, this smug fucknut goes up and collects his (my) $50 Tim Hortons gift card.

Oh, but what’s this? He dropped something when he stood up. It’s his door prize raffle ticket. It’s number 77. Well, I’m just going to take this, you know, for my troubles. I lean over in my chair, and snag it off the floor

An hour later, we’re at the final prize. It’s the door prize draw. The prize? A $1000 MasterCard prepaid gift card. The MC rifles through the drum with the tickets. The universe must have been on my side that day, because the MC pulls out a ticket, and speaks into the microphone.

“The winner of the MasterCard prepaid card is… Ticket 77.”

Asshole McTerribleperson loses his shit. He’s jumping up and down, yelling “I won I won I won ohmygod I won!”

He runs up to the front to the MC, who then asks for the winning ticket. Fuckface sticks his hand in his back pocket. Then his other back pocket. Then the side pockets. His face looks like he just watched his dog just get run over. Repeatedly.

I’m crazy excited at this point, but I make a show of checking my ticket. Then I hold up the ticket and call out,

“I got it!”

I run up to the front, and give it to the MC.

Douchebag McGee isn’t happy about this. He starts yelling about how I stole his ticket and ticket 77 was totally his and I’m a cheater and a liar.

I look him dead in the eyes, and ask him deadpan “do you have any proof?”

He looks like he’s about to cry. The MC sends him to sit down, and I collect the $1000 dollar gift card.

Because I’m the type to salt the wound, as I leave, I walk past his table, and say quietly to him “Enjoy your Tim card. You deserve it.”

Pretty sure he popped a blood vessel. But I didn’t stick around to find out. I had beers to buy for my friends.

Mandatory Service [Closed w/ Mnemosyne-n-me]

Saying Overlook was a shithole was an understatement. Militia members were treated worst than dirt there, especially so for Pilots. Cuffs, time locks, trigger happy guards…the whole 9 yards. Beating of prisoners and sanctioned “Fight clubs” were common. Sitting in her cell was captured pilot Laura Alexeev, counting guards again… her legs tethered to the wall via grapple hooks. She was trapped there, didn’t mean she wasn’t planning anything. All she need was the right moment…

I am the world spinning around inside of you
I am the animal that ripped your heart in two
I am the blood flowing out through your nostrils
you have destroyed with horrible chemicals

I’m your shirtless father in the front yard beating you
I am your brothers, begging him not to
and i’m your pregnant mother crying in the bathroom
I’m your pregnant mother crying in the bathroom

I am an offer you cannot refuse
I am a dress you were soon to infuse with
I am the androgyny that used to confuse you
I am your androgyny that used to confuse you

I am your late night TV addiction
I am the reason you can’t pay attention
I’m the only the only girl that could ever love you
and i’m building a pet cemetery inside of your heart


Beyond the Field (part 13)

I couldn’t wait to write this chapter, I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it :)

Read more chapters: Here

Summary: To him, football met everything. Nothing else was more important, but that day he picked his little sister up from the hospital and saw her blonde haired patient, everything changed.

“Great game brats! I can’t believe the season is already over.” Makarov spoke from on top on the bench. “It’s been a rocky season for sure, we won some and we lost some… but I’m proud of every single one of you brats. I’ll see you in a few months for off season training! I expect you to do some training in between now and our next meeting.”

“I’m gonna miss waking up in the morning and having 6 hour practices.” Gray sighed walking over to his locker. Natsu gave him a dumbfounded look.

“What the hell? Why?”

Gray deadpanned. “I guess you don’t understand sarcasm.”

“Salamander doesn’t understand anything.” Gajeel teased grabbing his items.

Natsu narrowed his eyes. “Oi shut your mouths! I do know some things!”

“Oh you probably know your girlfriend pretty well by know.” Gray snickered, making Gajeel and Loke laugh.

Natsu’s cheeks flushed. “Considering we’ve only been dating for a month, no! We’re not ready to do that yet.”

Loke scoffed. “I’ve done it with girls that I didn’t even know for 24 hours; now whats your excuse?”

The running back felt his temper flare. “Because unlike those girls you slept with, I’m actually going to be there for Lucy the morning after.”

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