#im going to scream

LIVE

ok no joke though I legitimately cannot figure out what the point of buck dating taylor narratively was

they broke up, their relationship was always kinda iffy and didn’t seem to bring either of them any joy and they watered down taylor just to make her be his gf and it’s like the moment she stabbed him in the back is the moment she became interesting again

so why

what came from it narrative-wise 911? like seriously what was the narrative purpose of that relationship? 

the cops got their own kids out and left the rest to die

they locked the shooter in a classroom full of kids and hid in the hallway while he slaughtered them all

they tased and pepper sprayed and handcuffed the parents outside who begged them to do something

they didnt just not do anything they practically aided the shooter

cryptid-sighting:

xenosagaepisodeone:

holy shit

Can’t believe it’s 2022 and a new all-time top Bushism just dropped

imagining-in-the-margins:

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|Prologue|Part One|Part Two|Part Three|Part Four|Part Five|Part Six|Part Seven|Part Eight|Part Nine|Part Ten|Part Eleven|Part Twelve|

Summary: Spencer and Bunny have a heart to heart (and a little bit more on Lover’s Lane).
A/N: The angst is over! … for now…
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Slow Burn (NSFW, 18+)
Content Warning: Yelling, verbal argument, pushing, kissing, heavy petting, brief allusion to a handjob, embarrassment, security officers
Word Count: 8k

MASTERLIST

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Can you come in early tomorrow? We need to talk.

The text had been unanswered for over 12 hours, but I couldn’t stop staring at it like it would change. I kept my hope in the young girl; foolishly told myself that she’d want to see me enough to make it happen sooner than necessary. That she might sacrifice a couple hours of sleep if it meant things would be okay between us again.

I had been wrong. That was clear to me when the clock slowly trekked, ticking ever so torturously slow, creeping closer and closer to class time. Some part of me still clung to the possibility of her bursting through the door in a clumsy, panicked way. She would tell me that she’d planned to come, really, and had just overslept.

I let myself believe that it could be that easy. That I could turn back the hands of time until she was there again, laughing like nothing had ever happened.

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