My whole life orbited around you. And regardless of whether that was right or wrong, I existed that way. I felt like it was you who made me exist, the way you touched me, the way you held me, and I inflated to occupy the space I had spent my whole life shrinking from. You fit like a puzzle piece around me, holding me close until your scent was the blanket that let me fall asleep, and your touch was the warmth of my beating heart, a reminder of all that was good.
You were what I had never felt. What I had always needed. And what would break me?
Once I had locked myself to you I never intended on letting go, like how ivy can become parasitic to the tree it hugs so tight; I forgot to let you feed yourself first. It led to pain…that key I had fit tightly into my heart wrenched itself out, slowly, day by day, until I was left with a cavern in my chest that screamed how alone I was; every day you stepped away, thought a little less about me, loved someone else a bit more.
For all I ever wanted was someone to unequivocally love me as much as I had loved them…and you gave me that, then swiftly tore it away, even worse, when I was already dying. How I managed to grasp the sinews of my body and hold them together in the light of fire and blood and tears and darkness of not waking up for weeks, I do not know. I did, but I don’t know if I ever returned to my body - dissociated now - and still, most nights, I can’t fall asleep because of you; my body has not yet healed from the shock of losing what it had finally needed after all those years of loneliness.
It all happened so fast.
I still crave you - and hate you.
ok i don’t even know where this idea came from but i’ve now held it for long enough that it’s acquired official headcanon status so here we go
let’s talk about ronan driving up to visit adam in college for halloween, but adam had already been invited to this party by someone in his dorm, so they decide to go together and start throwing around increasingly ridiculous ~couple costume ideas
at one point ronan suggests – mostly to be a little shit – that adam should go as poison ivy, because of his connection with cabeswater/sentient plants and his love of all things science
at first adam is skeptical but then he’s like “if i go along with this do i get to pick your costume” and ronan’s like “sure no problem”
and he’s so damn smug already because this is a couple costume after all, so obviously if adam’s poison ivy, ronan gets to be the freaking batman, moodiest and coolest and most-black-wearing of superheroes, right??
wrong, because that’s when adam just gives him this honestly borderline evil smile and says harley quinn
and that’s the story of how – some makeup, two temporary hair dyes, and a lot of dreaming later – adam and ronan rock up to the halloween party as this badass gay villainess couple
ronan, being his gd extra self, has actually dreamt the purple lamborghini from the suicide squad movie because screw the joker this car is too good for that fuckboy, so everyone is already staring at them before they even properly walk in
adam is wrapped in what is basically a (rather revealing) plant catsuit (“bro, are those real vines???” “shut up todd you’re stoned” “no but chad i swear those leaves moved” “yeah ok you’re super high right now”), wearing green eyeliner, green lipstick and his coolest magician look
ronan is wearing honest-to-god hot pants (”listen parrish this is too much” “oh, right, like this vegetable suit you dreamt me covers my modesty so well??” “i don’t know what you’re talking about” “i’m sure. now put on the shorts, lynch”) with the obligatory tank top and letterman jacket, red and blue eyeshadow, smudged lipstick, and a fucking baseball bat
(it’s maybe just possible that his bared midriff and the careless way the baseball bat is slung over his shoulders are doing things to adam)
(it’s also maybe just possible that when one of the vines from adam’s costume possessively wraps around his waist, that does things to ronan, too)
long story short, that is how adam and ronan win the costume contest while managing to make everyone at the party irrationally aroused
but possibly one of the highlights of the night is when somehow a picture gets posted on the facebook page of the event and within five minutes ten increasingly agitated/enthusiastic comments appear
Read books. Go to museums. Watch documentaries. Educate yourself. You don’t need to go to an ivy league school to be cultured. You don’t need money to understand how the world works. You just need to put yourself first, and grab all the opportunities that comes your way.
Has Batman ever had encounters with Harley and Ivy as Bruce Wayne? Would he ever try using that part of his identity to help them or any other of his rogues, for things like trying to start a new life away from villainy and such?
Someone was in Bruce Wayne’s office, and there was no graceful way to avoid them without making it obvious that he knew they were in there. There was a smell in the air like mulch and roses.
He had no frame of reference for what would constitute a normal amount of things to notice, and so chose to err on the side of oblivious moron.
If there’d been a smell like marzipan dipped in bleach, he might have chosen differently.
“Heya, Mister Wayne,” Harley Quinn greeted, sitting on his desk. She waved as much with her feet as her hands. He closed the door behind him.
Bruce considered his response. Hopefully his momentary indecision with regard to his facial expression could pass for surprise, or confusion, or fear. “Hello, Dr. Quinzel.”
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m not with Jay no more.”
“She’s with me,” Poison Ivy said.
“Hello, Dr. Isley.”
“I really prefer Ivy.”
“Dr. Ivy,” he corrected.
“Doncha love the way he says doctor?” Harley asked Ivy.
“Charming,” Ivy said. She did not sound charmed.
“I told her we oughta come talk to ya,” Harley explained, “on account of you’re a real nice guy an’ all.”
“I was just going to kill you,” Ivy added.
“Thank you. For not doing that.”
“Isn’t he just like a puppy?” Harley asked, pressing her hands to her cheeks.
Look I’m not going to say that Joker and Harley is one to strive for, I’ve never said that and I will never say that. You should stay away from that relationship at all costs and if you’re in one like theirs then you need to get out of it.
But the fact that you said “loving lesbian relationship” is really interesting because…
hmmm… I can’t think of why…
of why that would be… untrue…
Hmm… I just can’t think seem to think of why this relationship isn’t so “loving” as it seems… Oh well.
Side note, it shouldn’t matter at all whether the relationship is straight or lgbtq+, just whatever is better and more interesting IN YOUR OPINION for these FICTIONAL CHARACTERS.
Along with a bunch of my friends in this fandom, I’m bored of this conversation. Just go away.
Synopsis: University AU babes. Tom is the most well-known fuckboy within the freshers (or freshman if you’re American) of your University. He is used to getting his own way with every girl but then he meets you. Whilst you hang out with the popular girls, you are unlike the others and Tom learns that he can’t always get his own way.
A/N: I hope you enjoy the first part of this University Series! I’m so excited to write it for you guys :)
Thomas Stanley Holland was the epitome of a fuckboy. He was rich, he was a player and he never treated a girl properly. Tom walked around the University campus with his posse of fellow fuckboys, who were also rich assholes. They had chosen Tom as their ‘leader’ since he was the most confident, most attractive and richest out of them all. Together these boys practically ran the school.
→ these are just tips based on what i’ve learned at uni!!
research ruthlessly. don’t just focus on the number of acceptances; look at the field you want to go into as well! look at what the environment is like, what the school does for it’s students, how many of those students go on to be successful in their careers. look at all of these things and more. the list is endless of things to consider depending on your field of study and interests: research opportunities, volunteering, clubs, sports, etc.
tell yourself that state schools are just a good as competitive and selective universities. this is important. because this is true. state schools are just as good as competitive and selective universities. you’ll get a wonderful education no matter where you go. my father has always told me that i should go to a state school for undergrad and a top notch university for grad school, so that’s what i’ve been doing.
ask yourself why you want to go to such a competitive university. is it because you just want it to look good on your resume or are you really looking to be challenged and pushed beyond your limits? state schools are also very challenging. i happen to go to a state school (purdue university in indiana) and i am challenged heavily here. even though it’s not an ivy league, i still feel as though i’m not getting a free pass through all my classes. i still have to work for my grades and i study so much and i still fail sometimes. i think this also relates to what my father has said; if you’re going to go to an ivy league for undergrad, where are you gonna go for grad school that’s gonna look better than your undergrad?
find something that makes you stick out from the rest of the people applying. find something unique about yourself! i am 9235% sure that the only reason that i was able to get into one of the most competitive fields of study at purdue university is because of what i shared during my application process. something that made me stick out. there are loADS of things that you can talk about to make yourself stick out! here are some ideas: talk about your study abroad if you had the opportunity to do so, any special events that you planned or coordinated for your clubs or extracurriculars, if you were the captain of any sports teams, any internships or volunteer opportunities you took, etc. there’s so many things!! there must be something that not everyone in your school has done!!
visit the university!! see some professors if you can, sit in on some classes if you wish. just do something to see exactly what it’s like. i ended up going to a state school (and i’m still here ofc), BUT i’m already in contact with some people at various universities for grad school. make!! connections!! connections are key to advancing your career!! i managed to get into a pretty sweet program over the summer for an internship that wouldn’t otherwise have been possible if i hadn’t had the connections i did!
push yourself. whether you’re in high school or a transfer student. push yourself in terms of academics, but please do not risk your health. get that 4.0 in high school. graduate at the top of your class, in the top 20, the top 10, the top 5. put all the effort you can and want to into your clubs + extracurriculars. break your own personal records in your sport. try to break everyone else’s. but keep in mind that your health is also SO important. do not lose your sanity over trying to get into the #1 university in the country. just be you and continue trying to improve. because that’s what colleges want to see: your improvement, your dedication and loyalty, your leadership. this is what colleges look for.
once again, tell yourself that competitive and selective schools are not any better than state schools, community colleges, etc.
[Poison Ivy and Scarecrow, crouching outside a medical lab that specialises in plant research]
Poison Ivy[to Scarecrow]: So, we break in very carefully, only take what we came for, turn ourselves into the police, and then… [smashes window] Just kidding!
[both laugh as they enter the lab]
Scarecrow: We don’t play by your rules, motherfucker!
[Red Robin swings in behind them, looking somewhat worse for wear]
Tim [wearily]: Hey guys…
Scarecrow: You okay, Red Robin? You look a little–
Tim: –Tired? I am, I got no sleep last night.
Poison Ivy [half-heartedly]: …Sorry?
Tim[pouring himself a cup of coffee from the lab’s coffee-maker]: THANK YOU. Ugh. I mean it’s like, I’m gonna to need this whole pot to get through patrol.
Scarecrow [firmly]: We can’t listen to you tell a story about how you didn’t get any sleep. You don’t deserve anything for that.
Poison Ivy: It’s like the most boring conversation imaginable.
Tim[putting a lid on his paper cup]: No, but listen, okay? I’m starting my bedtime routine, nothing crazy, brushing my teeth et cetera and I get into bed. It’s just before midnight and I cannot get comfortable.
Scarecrow [getting angry]: That’s enough!
Tim: I don’t know what it is…
Poison Ivy: If you don’t shut up, I’m going to beat your ass.
Tim[getting passionate and waving his arms]: The thing is, its not like cramps or like muscle stuff. It’s just uncomfortable? Does that make any sense?
Poison Ivy[stands, red-faced and stalks towards Tim]: That’s it!
[Tim continues, unperturbed and dodges Poison Ivy’s kicks and punches while holding his coffee]
Tim: Eventually I’m like, okay, let’s just try the right side. And as I’m finally relaxing, boom. Text message.
[bones crunch as Tim holds Poison Ivy in a one-handed wristlock. She cries out in pain and Tim keeps talking over her]
Tim: I forgot to put my phone on Do Not Disturb!
[Scarecrow yells and attacks Tim, throwing punches that are easily dodged]
Tim: It’s a group thread. [Scarecrow tries choking him] It’s like Nightwing trying to get us all to hang out on a Wednesday night. [Tim manoeuvres his coffee out of the way without spilling it and pushes Scarecrow away] Sorry guys, you know. [punches Scarecrow in the throat] I have school in the morning.
Poison Ivy [grabs a broom and swings it at him]: You know, a lot of people don’t get a full night’s sleep, Red Robin, they just fucking DEAL WITH IT!
Tim [takes the broom and hands Pam his coffee]: And the worst part is, [jabs Scarecrow in the stomach] when I saw my phone I see what time it is.
[jabs Pam in the stomach with the broom and catches the coffee that flies out of her hand, getting worked up]
Tim: It’s 12:45. I’m full of dread at this point!
[Scarecrow smashes a bottle against a table and attacks Tim with it]
Tim: I get up and I get a warm glass of milk, [whacks Scarecrow with the broom] a melatonin, [spins around and takes out Poison Ivy] and I say to myself– oh, this is yours by the way [tosses the broom on top of Ivy on the floor]– I say to myself: [stabs Scarecrow in the leg with his own bottle, he screams in agony] Just chill! You know, sleep will come to you.
Poison Ivy: Everyone, Red Robin’s recounting how he didn’t get enough sleep last night.
Tim: So, I’m back in bed. I put on Bones, a show that I have zero investment in… and you know I’m almost sure it’ll put me to sleep.
Harley Quinn [suddenly shows up wielding a baseball bat]: Get him!
[Tim sets down his coffee, yawning as a host of Rogues and their lackeys suddenly break into the building, shouting.]
Tim [takes out one of the thugs and continues to monologue as they surround him]: Something’s going on with patrol tonight. You know, it feels like these villains are popping. It’s like if CSI were a little more charming, and a little more fun, does that make any sense? Anyway…”
[Tim starts taking them out with his bo staff as he rolls around the floor]
Tim: Two hours in, and I’m like to myself, what are you doing? You’ve gotta be up in like, four hours.
Tim [jumps up brandishing his staff]: And at that point, I’m up.
[groans from injured rogues that lay splayed about on the ground. Tim lets out a small scoff as he surveys them, picking up his cup of coffee]
Tim: Geez, wish I could sleep at work. [slurps coffee]
Please do a preference or blurb where Gemma or Anne don't like you or think that you're using him for money (which makes you really insecure about him buying you stuff)and Harry finds out about it and is really upset about it.
You didn’t come from a wealthy family. In fact, most of your childhood was spent scraping for your last dollar hidden in couch cushions and eating less when your parents were in between jobs.
That being said, you weren’t poor either. Your parents could afford to send you to a good school, and you came home each day able to do your homework to earn good grades, without having to deal with any extra work. You were just strictly middle class.
When you met Harry, you were in your second year of university, and in the midst of all your student debt, Harry showed you what it felt to have no regard whatsoever for the price of things. He took you to amusement parks and sent you gifts you’ve been eyeing for months. Of course, these were just little side effects.
Harry was kind and humorous and treated you like you have never been treated before. Within the first few months of you two dating, he acted as if he was still courting you. Flowers and chocolates were sent almost weekly, and you spent every waking moment (apart from attending school, of course) with him. You were madly in love.
“I want you to meet my family.”
You and Harry were ice skating when he suddenly pulled you to a stop and took your face into his palms. His breath was visible in the air between you two, and his green eyes were bright and vivid. You stammer, “M-Meet y-your f-family? Like n-now?”
He chuckles, brushing back a stray piece of your hair, and says, “Not now. But soon.”
Harry’s smile doesn’t break. “My birthday.”
Your knees suddenly start to buckle, and Harry catches you in time before you have the chance to fall. “Your birthday is in a week,” you huff, stabilising yourself back on the ice. “I thought it was just going to be the two of us. Cuddled up in bed the entire day…or something.” You add the last part to make it didn’t seem as if you were greatly looking forward to the plan. You were. A day with just him and no one else? Nothing was better.
“Yeah,” Harry stretches the word out, and you see the shift in attitude in his eyes. “But I was thinking, since my mum and Gemma are gonna be in London that week, we could just invite them over.”
“We’ve been together for a year,” you hesitate. “Would Gemma and Anne really–?”
“Yes.” Harry interrupts, pressing a kiss to your shaking lips. “I love you and you love me. I want my family to see how happy we are.”
You think for a minute, not ready to meet the two most important women in his life, but also not wanting to disappoint the soon-to-be birthday boy. “Okay,” you sigh, finally giving in.
“Good, because I already invited them over to stay with us.”
“Harry! I haven’t seen you in forever!”
Your hands are shaking in the pockets of your pants as you watch Anne and Gemma tumble over the threshold and into Harry’s waiting arms. You stand to the side of the room, by the fireplace, unsure as to what to do or what to say. Luckily, Harry sensed your nervousness and after embracing both women, he gestured towards you with a bright smile. “This is Y/N. She’s the one I’ve been talking about.”
“More like endlessly rambling about,” murmured Gemma and she and Anne shared a laugh. You smile as Harry’s mother walks over to hug you, and keep smiling when Gemma’s arms wrap around you.
Harry announces, “I’m going to go make some drinks and snacks for all of us. You three get to know each other. I have a feeling you will be seeing each other a lot.”
And with that, he leaves the room. You sit down on the nearest sofa, and Gemma and Anne follow suit, both stopping to remove their coats first. “So,” you try, “how was the travel–”
“That’s a nice belt,” Gemma interrupts. You frown, glancing down at your waist. “Is that Gucci?”
You nod. “Harry got it for me on my birthday. I begged him not to but–”
“But you accepted it anyways,” Anne finishes, her voice laced with poison.
“Yes,” you whisper under your breath.
“Where did you go to university, Y/N?” Gemma asks.
“Wow. Ivy league. You must be drowning in student debt right now.”
“Yeah,” you smile, thinking she was joking. “I can barely afford–”
“Those boots?” Anne chirps in. “Are those Harry’s?”
You look down to see that they, indeed, were. You didn’t even notice. You just needed something comfy to slip your freezing feet into. “I guess they are,” you murmur.
Gemma clears her throat, and it makes you look up at the female version of your boyfriend. “Harry wears his heart on his sleeve, bless him, but he is often blind when women like you come sneaking along. But not me. And not Anne. Harry might think you love him, but you don’t have us fooled, you money-digging–”
“Snacks!” Harry bursts out from the kitchen at that exact second, and you have enough time to wipe away a single tear before he places down a giant plate of crackers in front of you all. “The drinks are still inside, but I was too excited to wait.”
Anne knits her eyebrows together, and she’s smiling that easy smile that makes Harry believe it never left her face. “Too excited for what?”
But Harry’s already reaching into the coat cabinet, and pulls out a hidden box wrapped in bright red. He walks over to you, beaming, and says, “For you, my sweetheart.”
Your lips part in surprise, and even though you don’t take your eyes off of Harry’s, you can sense Gemma and Anne glaring at you. “What is this?” You ask as Harry drops it onto your lap.
“A little something. Open it and see.” He drops his head to the side and looks up at you with loving eyes. You bite the inside of your cheek as you start to unwrap it.
“What is it?” Gemma asks, peeking over her brother’s shoulder. “Shit.”
Diamonds are reflected in her eyes. Harry explains, “I had it custom made for you. See? It’s my name and your name loosely written on the sides. You lost your bracelet last week, and I wanted to make it up to you.”
“But it’s not even my birthday,” you whisper, eyes glazing over. It was beautiful. Too beautiful for your hands to touch.
“I know,” he presses a kiss to the side of your head. “But you make me so happy, I just couldn’t resist. I was going to give it to you after the night was over as a thank you for meeting my family, but I couldn’t wait.”
“Harry,” you whisper, tears threatening to spill. You still don’t dare to touch it. “You shouldn’t have.”
Harry opens his mouth to say something, but Anne interrupts, “Harry, I think the drinks are getting cold.” Harry looks up at his mother, and then back at you, before disappearing back into the kitchen.
“Why aren’t you smiling?” Gemma hisses. “This is what you want, isn’t it? This is why you have him wrapped around your finger.”
“I love him,” you murmur softly. “I love him with all my heart. I would love him if he had nothing.”
Anne shrugs. “Even if that’s true, I guess we’ll never know now.”
“I love him!” You repeat, louder, more frantic than before. A tear spills onto the bracelet that is still wrapped up in velvet.
“Then why don’t you just rip that bracelet apart?” Gemma barks. “Rip it to prove that it doesn’t matter.”
“It’s expensive,” you murmur. “It’s priceless. I can’t possibly…I can’t…”
“That’s because you don’t want to,” Anne snarls. “Gemma is right. You’re nothing but a gold digger. A nasty gold digger that is going to stay away from Harry from now on.”
“Drinks!” Harry strides into the room (again, at the worst timing possible), and immediately notices the tension. “What happened?”
You immediately rise from your seat, picking up his present for you and discarding it on the table. “I don’t feel too well,” you lie. “I’m going to go rest for a bit.”
“Do you want your–” You didn’t even have to turn around to know that Harry was pointing towards your bracelet.
You don’t know how much time has passed. Hours, probably. Gemma and Anne have already left. The house is quiet. Harry climbs into bed and sighs, “If you don’t like it, you can just tell me.”
You furrow your eyebrows. “Don’t like what?”
He looks at you pointedly. “The bracelet.” He replies obviously. “I can return it and exchange it for whatever you want tomorrow. Just say the word.”
“Don’t,” you blurt out. “Get a refund and donate the cash to charity.”
This is when he notices the huge pile of things in the corner of the room. “Is that–?” All the things that Harry has ever bought you were placed in the corner of the room. He whips his head back to you. “What’s wrong? Did Anne or Gemma say anything?”
“No,” you whisper. He can tell you’re lying in less than second.
“What did they say?” He pulls you closer to him. “Tell me.”
“Nothing,” you try again, but he’s not buying it. Finally, you confess, “They said I was just using you for money…” Tears start to build up in your eyes again, and this time, they fall. “They said…They said I was a gold digger…but..but Harry I’m not, and I tried to tell them, but they wouldn’t listen.”
Harry’s breath catches in his throat. Then, without warning, he immediately jumps out of bed and rushes to where his phone lays on top of his cabinet. “What are you doing?” You ask, nose already started to clog up from the tears.
He presses his phone against his ear, and in less than a beat, he’s screaming, “DID YOU CALL Y/N A GOLD DIGGER?” Oh shit. “How dare you accuse the woman I love–” He pauses, face scrunching up in disgust at whatever is being said from the other line. “All that is untrue. What kind of stories have you been reading? I’m not speaking to you both until an apology is issued.”
And with that, he hangs up the phone.
“Harry, you didn’t have to do that,” you say as he crawls back into bed with you.
“I don’t have to do a lot of things. I don’t have to buy you stuff you don’t need, but I do because I want to show you how much I love you. I don’t have to devote my entire life to writing songs, but I do because I would never prefer doing something else. But what I need to do is to make sure that my girlfriend knows that she is an important part of who I am, and to make sure no one tells her anything else.”
this is so shit and i might rewrite it but i felt so bad for not writing in a while so i just needed to post something but might take it down later because i am so unhappy with this ending.