Okay so I have a friend who was getting cyber-bullied was in a situation in which she could not block them and I didn’t know what to tell her. THEN I CAME UP WITH THE MOST AMAZING IDEA I HAVE EVER HAD, PLEASE EVERYONE REBLOG THIS. So I told her to copy and paste the bee movie script into her messages and just respond with the script if they ever said anything mean. Next time they said something rude, she responded with the bee movie script. The guy said something along the lines of ‘what the fuck’ and then read through some of it saying ‘did you seriously fucking send me the bee movie script?’. Then, guess what she did. She sent the script again. The guy stopped talking. SOLUTION HAS BEEN FOUND. Every time someone sends you hate or is mean, respond with the bee movie script.

Don’t Worry (Peter Parker x Reader)

Hey, can you do a peter x reader where the reader has a personality like Cat Valentine from victorious and she gets bullied but peter stands up for her and she falls for him and they end up together plz and thanks! Luv ur writings! 💜

Originally posted by v-writings

(Y/B/N) - Your brother’s name. If you don’t have a brother, just choose a random name. Like Nick. Or Jack, something.

The hallway was crowded and smelled of sweat and regret. Peter shoved through the river of conversing teenagers to get to his locker. After jiggling the lock just the right way, he could finally pull it open with force to put away his gym clothes and chemistry book. A cute squeal and a weight on his back told him that his friend, (Y/N), was ready for lunch at Midtown High. While hugging him from behind, you said, “Hey, Petey! You’d never guess what happened to me this weekend!”

He chuckled and asked you, “what happened to you this weekend, snuggles?”. You pull him closer to you and smile against his back. “I was with my Mom in New York and –”. You were shoved to the ground by one of Flash’s ‘henchmen’. “Hey, shortie. How is that brother of yours? Still in that crazy bin?” he teased while leaning against the locker next to Peter’s. “Lol, I bet!” another said in response. Your smile, that Peter thought was permanently tattooed onto your face, fell and your eyes dropped to your glittery shoes. “What the hell, Flash, leave her alone!” Peter fought, angry that the bully was able to have such an effect on you. “Defending your crazy girlfriend? Shut your mouth, Parker. This isn’t about you.”

With a shove into the locker beside Peter’s, Flash and his basketball buddies were down the hallway, walking out of the side door towards the outdoor lunch tables. Tears welled up in your eyes but you fought them off, a faux smile pulling at your quivering lips. “Ready for lunch?” your voice cracked, strained from trying not to cry. Peter pulled you into a constricting embrace and placed a kiss on top of your head when you cuddled into his chest. “Don’t mind him. He doesn’t know anything.”

“But he does. (Y/B/N) used to play basketball with him. Well, until the school decided he was a problem,” you tell him with a scratchy voice. He just whispers ‘everything’s okay. You’ll be okay’ into your hair and holds you close to his chest.

People who were bullied growing up and go on to become the smartest, nicest, and most interesting dude at the company Christmas party, yet they still harbor this overwhelming sense that nobody really likes them, that it’s all fake and unreal and unearned and undeserved, and that in the end, everybody’s going to wind up hurting them. So they don’t let anyone get close to them. No matter how loved they are, they can’t ever let anybody get too close.
—  Mark Manson

So I guess in middles schools here they had this thing called the bully box. It was anonymous and you basically wrote the name of the person/people that were bullying you and what they did. They had to take it down because people were putting teachers names in there.

Students were putting teachers names in the box because they were being bullied by them.
It was taken down because the teachers found it offensive.

The students were doing as they were told.

And that is the American school system on handling student bullying.

Remember when you were picked for teams as a child,
and there was always that last child who would be staring at the floor
knowing they were going to be last?

That child knew the pain that came from humiliation
and loneliness better than they ever should have.

Remember that child who spent every lunch time
alone in a bathroom stall,
or completely changing who they were,
to feel accepted into any group they could find?

That child grew up thinking
it was normal to be whispered about all day,
normal to be pushed into lockers,
and normal for people
to never be able to love them,
and accept them for the way they were.

That child spent the rest of their life
trying to heal others,
trying to give them love.

And all it did,
was leave them empty.

That child was me,
and still is.

I am now the adult with a broken heart,
the adult unsure of finding someone who will love them again.

When you have lived your entire life
being told you are not good enough,
you start to believe it.

When you are always that friend
willing to go above and beyond for your friend’s happiness,
yet they could not care less about you when you are down,
you start to believe that’s normal.

That child was me,
that child will always be me,
and I will always have a heart too big for those that don’t deserve it.