my parent's bedroom

anonymous asked:

According to that DEr the point is that whenever stefan was like wait a bit to have sex she was like nah gtg while with damon she literally loses track of time, the DElusion

not to mention, Elena says “Just me” when Stefan says “love it let’s go” when she mentions a shower and yet the last moment we see of this scene is them kissing, I doubt she made it to the shower on her own, especially since Jenna heard them. 

And when she’s like, Stefan … this is my parents’ bedroom and he keeps kissing her, she’s in it. He pulls away and she’s still going:

This also doesn’t look like “nah gtg”

legit, you guys need to stop getting riled up by DErs who don’t look at context.

I recently saw a video of a young woman talking about all of the reasons our generation, the Millennials, sucks and that’s she’s sorry for what we’ve become. Here is my, a fellow Millennial, response:

You say we’re just ‘existing’ and not ‘contributing anything to society.’ The oldest Millennial is 34, the youngest is 12, we haven’t had time to contribute anything yet. We’re trying to survive in a world that no other generation has had to grow up in, with a tanked economy and most of our childhood hearing nothing but war in the Middle East on the news while also being profoundly connected. We didn’t do that.

You say we’re no longer polite, we don’t say ‘no, sir’ or ‘no ma’am’ anymore and we no longer hold the door open for our elders or women. We also don’t expect low-paid workers to break their backs for us, or at yell at them when they make a mistake, like my 60-year-old grandfather does. We say ‘no problem’ when there’s a mistake in order, and politely stand by while the 40-something-year-old soccer mom huffs and rolls her eyes as the new girl struggles to punch in the correct code.

You say our music objectifies women and glorifies drugs and criminals. There has been no significant change from the songs that were once sung or the singers who sang them. Many of the 50’s, 60’s, 70’s, and 80’s performers were drug addicts, womanizers, and criminals in their own right. Elvis Presley was child abuser, John Lennon raped his many girlfriends and most of the music I grew up listening, which was 80’s rock, were performed by habitual drug abusers. Let’s not pretend like human nature took a drastic turn when 1983 rolled around.

You say we cuss to prove a point. We, as a generation, have learned it’s not the words we fucking use, it’s the passion in them that we care about. As a generation, we’ve become more interested in politics and the world around us, cursing is minor problem when we consider the political climate the older generation has plunged us into.

You say we use ‘bae’ to describe the ones we love. Bae, originally, means ‘before anyone else’ which is incredibly romantic in my opinion. Bae is also hardly ever taken seriously, it’s a jokey way to talk about someone you love. Language changes, I doubt people were happy when we changed ‘wherefore’ into ‘why.’ The greatest injustice we can do to our language and culture is not allow it to evolve and grow with us.

You say we idolize people like Kim Kardashian and shame people like Tim Tebow. Kim Kardashian is a business woman who had a private video she made with a lover illegally revealed. Instead of fading into obscurity, she stood tall and did not let the sexual shaming she endured stop her and now runs a multi-million dollar industry, is married to one of the richest men in the world, and had two beautiful children. Tim Tebow is a Christian who was criticized by a few people for praying in an open stadium while most people just wanted to see a game.

You say we’re lazy and entitled, we want to make a lot of money and get a free education but we’re not willing to put in the work. We are not lazy. I cannot tell you how many people I meet who have gone to school full time while working a part or even full-time job just to make ends meet. We’re not entitled, we’re bitter. In the 70’s, you could work a part time job over the summer and pay your way through four years of school because tuition was $400, now just to walk in the door of your local community college you need to drop $14,000. We have kids who aren’t even old enough to drink, yet are already $20,000 deep in debt. Debt that won’t go away because even filing for bankruptcy won’t erase it. And even with that education, there’s no guarantee you’ll find something in your field. I have a friend who has a degree in microbiology and she’s making $9 an hour selling $15 candles. I have another friend who has a masters in Sport Psychology and Counseling. She’s a bartender. My parents bought a three bedroom house in the suburbs in the late 90’s while my generation is imagining apartments with breezy windows and trying to get enough money to get food while we scrounge up less than $8 a week.

You say we spend more time online making friends and less time building relationships and our relationship’s appearance on Facebook is more important than building the foundation that relationship is based on. We are a generation that is profoundly connected and no other generation has seen this before. We have more opportunities to meet people from all over the world and better chances to understand other worldviews and lifestyles. Being able to stay home and talk to people over the internet is cheaper and more relaxing than having to force yourself to interact with people in public settings after a long day of minimum wage labor. The people I talk to more over the internet are people I have been friends with for years. It’s easier to talk about the day’s events over Skype or Facebook Messenger than arrange a day to meet in person when you have conflicting schedules. I truly don’t believe most people care what others think of their friendship or how their relationships ‘look’ on social media. Most often what you are calling ‘our relationship’s appearance on Facebook’ are documented and searchable memories.

You say our idea of what we believe in is going on Facebook and posting a status on Facebook. Not everyone can join in with the crowds of protesters. It’s easy to see what others have to say through the comments and argue back without the threat of violence. And when this generation does organize events to stand up for ourselves, it’s met with childish name-calling or being reduced to a ‘riot.’

You say we believe the number of follows we have reflects who we are as a person. It’s nice knowing there’s 20 or 50 or maybe even 100 people who care what you have to say or think. We live in an age where we can and will be heard.

You say we don’t respect our elders, that we don’t respect our country. Our elders grew up in one of the greatest economic booms in history and in turn made it the worst economic situation since the 1930’s all while blaming kids who were only five at the time for it. We stand on our flag because it means nothing, it’s a pretty banner for an ugly lie. We’re a country that says you can make it if you just work hard enough while, in the end, that will almost never happen. We’re a country that becomes irate at the idea of 20-something college kids standing on some canvas dyed red, white, and blue but seem to shrug off the millions of homeless, disabled veterans.

You say we’re more divided than ever before. Ever before what? When black folk couldn’t drink from the same fountain as white folk? When women couldn’t vote? When white southerners fought for the idea that they could keep black people as slaves? We’re a generation that is done with injustice and when you fight for social change, you will divide people.

You say everything that was frowned up is celebrated. What does that mean? We frowned up gay marriage. We frowned upon wives being able to say no to sex with their husbands. We frowned up interracial marriage. We frowned up black folk being allowed to go to school with white folk. We frowned upon women being allowed to vote. Are those things not worth celebrating?

You say nothing has value in our generation, that we take advantage of everything. We value friendship more, we value the fists of change, we value social justice and family and the right to marry those we love. We value the right to be yourself, wholly and fully. We value the right to choose and we value the idea of fighting what you believe in, even when everyone older than you is telling you you’re what’s wrong with the country.

You say we have more opportunities to succeed than those before but we don’t ‘appreciate’ them. We are a bitter generation. You can finance a boat for 3.9% but you have to pay back college tuition plus 8.9%. We may have more opportunities but those opportunities cost money we don’t have.

You say you can see why we’re called ‘Generation,’ but we’re not Generation Y, we’re Millennials and we do feel entitled. We were promised a strong economy and inexpensive education. We had the world in our hands and we were going to make it better. And it was ripped away from us because of incompetent rulers, illegal wars, and greedy corporations and we get blamed for it. Crime has gone down, abortion and unintended pregnancy has lowered, people are living longer, people are more educated, people are less likely to die from violent crime or diseases, yet my generation is touted as the worst generation and for what? Crimes that we’re accused of that happened before we could even wipe our own ass? We were raised better, and we were raised in a society that treated, and continues to treat, us like garbage. And we are done. We are not sorry, we did nothing wrong.

[Sally and Paul are out of town for Sally’s book tour. Percy, having decided to invite the Seven and a few other friends over, is putting away anything likely to get broken. Jason, who arrived early, is helping.]

Jason(Gingerly examining what appears to be a very ugly ceramic blowfish): Is this what I think it is?

Percy(Glancing over over from the dresser): That? Yeah. You can just put it with the others.

Jason(Confused): The…

[Percy points to the closet. Giving Percy a strange look, Jason opens the door to discover shelf upon shelf of blowfish in every shape, size, hue and material imaginable. He takes a half step back]

Percy(Joining him): Kinda creepy, right?

Jason(At a loss for words): …why?

Percy(Taking the blowfish from Jason and adding it to the collection): I dunno, it’s just this weird thing Paul’s students do. Every year, his graduating class gives him a blowfish. You know- Blofis, Blowfish. It’s a tradition.

[Jason nods, but seems unable to look away. Percy stands next to him, surveying the blowfish armada]

Percy: …Honestly, I don’t even think he likes them.

[They are mercifully interrupted by Leo, who scrambles into the room, sparing three seconds of bewilderment on the blowfish closet before deciding he has more pressing matters to worry about]

Leo(Yanking Jason around by the shoulder to face him): Jason. Jason, bro, we kissed. She kissed me. Like ten minutes ago. In Percy parents’ bedroom.

Percy(Smacking Leo with a conveniently placed copy of Jane Eyre): Dude! Don’t make out in my parents’ bedroom, that’s disgusting!

Jason(Letting Percy attack Leo with Jane Eyre a few more times before separating them): I’d kind of figured you’d gotten past that already- all the ladies love Leo, right?

Leo(Eyes wide and fidgeting worse than usual): No, dude, shut up, I’m freaked out. I don’t… I don’t think I’m very good.

Jason: Good at-

Leo(Grabbing Jason by the shoulders again): At kissing! And I mean, Calypso’s done a lot more kissing than me over the years- like, even without the immortality thing. And with heroes. Heroes! Like, the legendary kind, with swords and muscles and social skills. The kind that probably knew how to kiss! I don’t want to suck so bad she dumps me! Girls dig you, I’m asking for advice!

Jason(Who has kissed exactly two girls in his life): Look, as far as I can tell, there’s two basic rules- one, don’t bite anything without permission, and two, the human tongue is like wasabi. It’s very powerful and should be used sparingly.

[Leo begins nodding, then freezes, staring at something beyond Jason’s shoulder. Percy, facing the same direction as Leo, gives a snort of laughter he hastily tries to disguise as a cough]

Jason(Closing his eyes): She’s standing right behind me, isn’t she?

Calypso(Mimicking Jason): “The human tongue is like wasabi!”

Jason: I don’t sound like that.

Percy: You kinda do.

Calypso(Sidling around to stand next to Leo, who is trying to sink into the floor): Actually, I think Leo’s tongue is like sunscreen. It’s good for your health and should be applied liberally.

Jason: I REALLY didn’t need to hear that. I really wish I could stop IMAGINING that.

Percy(Gravely): The idea itself is so offensive, that it’s actually illegal to say the words ‘Leo Valdez’s tongue’ on TV. 

Jason(Sagely): The penalty for violating that law is ten years in prison.

Percy: Or one Leo Valdez tongue bath.

Leo(Face in his hands): I hate you.

Jason: Everyone chooses prison.

Leo(Glaring through his fingers): I HATE YOU.

[Rolling her eyes, Calypso gently pries Leo’s hands from his face and kisses him. After a moment of hesitation Leo kisses back, putting his hands on her hips]

Percy: Oh gods. Oh, gods, I’m blind! I’m blind!

Jason(Severely): Please stop. You’re upsetting the blowfish.


Pairing: Nolan x Reader (i kind of blended two requests in one)

Warnings: angst, Sad!Nolan (I’m going to cry lmao), gets pretty smutty at the end tbh, but all around fluff

Summary: Y/N gets a surprise visit from Nolan when he’s feeling down and she helps him out of it. Things eventually escalate as well.

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: This is rlly similar to my first Nolan fic, but I cannot get over sad fluffy Nolan so here’s another one to bless your feed with. 

P.S. Honestly, feel free to comment what you think or message me or hop in my asks (u can even be anon <3) bc I love you all and I’d love to talk to you more :)))



My eyelids feel heavy, sleep threatening to overcome me. I try my best to keep watching the movie playing across my computer screen, but it’s getting more difficult. I yawn, readjusting my position in hopes of waking myself up more.

I hear a knock on the door and I roll my eyes, thinking that my parents, off on a date night, forgot their keys. I make my way to the little foyer, swinging open the door and lazily rubbing my eyes.

“You know you could’ve just opened it with you- Nolan?” Shock undoubtedly displays across my features as I look back up.

Instead of the two of my parents, Nolan, my boyfriend for almost a year now, is standing in front of me. His golden blonde hair is terribly messed up and his usual beautiful blue eyes are distorted by shades of red. The evidence of tears splattered across his face and his thrown on pajamas tell me only one thing; he tried and failed to cry himself to sleep.

“Baby,” I say, my lips turned upside down in a prominent frown from the sight of the boy I loved like this. I usher him in, shutting the door behind him and grasping his face between my hands as if I didn’t, he would slip through the cracks.

“I’m so-sorry, for the short notice,” he feigns a small smile, a halfhearted laugh being forced past his lips.

“No, no, don’t be sorry. It’s okay,” I assure, my thumbs wiping away the remnants of tears.

“Let’s go to my room,” I suggest and he nods, allowing me to lead the way and tugging him along behind me.

“Is, um, an-anyone home?” He asks quietly, his eyes peering into my parents’ bedroom.

“No, we’re alone.” I smile gently at him, gesturing for him to sit on my bed. He does, and I kneel in front of him on the carpeted floor, placing my hands on his legs and looking up at him.

“What’s on your mind?” I query, cutting straight to the chase. The sooner I knew what was going on, the sooner I could help him resolve it.

Nolan flinches at my words, and I cup his face with my hands again. “You’re okay,” I whisper. At this point, I wanted more than anything to make sure he felt safe and loved right now.

“I keep replaying every single time I’ve met with Mo-Monroe in my head, and, ever-every time, it gets worse.” He places his head in his hands, my heart sinking.

“Nolan, baby, there’s nothing you can do about the past,” I state, squeezing his thigh through his grey joggers.

“But, tha-that doesn’t cha-change the fact that what I did was wrong,” he says, his voice breaking more and the volume of it getting louder.

“Baby, it’s not your fault that she wrapped you in her schemes. She took advantage of your fear. If anyone’s in the wrong, it’s her.”

“But, you don’t ge-get it. I caused people, people to die!” He shouts, making me take a step back away from him at the sudden anger rushing through him.

“See even you’re afraid of me!” He waves his arms towards me.

I shake my head, wrapping a steel-tight grip around his wrists. “I am not afraid of you. I love you, Nolan. You hear me?”

“Well, you shouldn’t,” he mutters, flaring his nostrils and ripping his hands from mine.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m a monster, Y/N! I helped Monroe a-and all the hunters k-kill those people!” He screams, pushing his hands through his hair and crouching down, tears brimming his eyes.

“You didn’t kill those people! And you’re nothing even remotely close to a monster, baby!” I shout back, the waterworks building up within me.

“But, I am!” Nolan uses the sleeve of his long sleeve tee to wipe his runny nose. He looks up and bites his lip, holding back any more tears from running down his cheeks.

“Well, so what? Not all monsters do m-monstrous things!” I argue although my throat feels like it’s giving out, kneeling in front of him and pushing back the hair falling into his eyes.

I place my hand on his cheek, bending forward to give him a gentle kiss. His mouth barely moves, his body still tense from the argument.

“You still love me?” He asks weakly, standing up and helping me up with him.

“How could I not?” I scoff, embracing him then looking up to meet his puffy eyes again. He’s the one that bends down this time, capturing my lips in a kiss and placing his hands behind the small of my back and behind my neck.

“I’m sorry again for coming over announced so late,” he apologizes, twirling a strand of my hair in his fingers.

“It’s not a big deal. I was just watching a movie,” I recall and a rather large smile spreads across my lips. “Actually, you want to stay over to finish it with me?”

“Are you sure that your parents would be okay with that?” He says, uncertainty in his tone.

“Nolan, my parents love you. They honestly do not care whatsoever if you sleep in the same bed as me.”

“Well, if that’s so, then why don’t you invite me over more often?” He asks, quirking a brow at me and moving closer suggestively.

“I didn’t know you wanted to so badly,” I laugh, placing the palm of my hand on his chest.

“I certainly would prefer sleeping with you every night if I could.” We both knew why too; he would sleep better if I were by his side, reminding him that he was safe.

“Then, you know what? Sleep over whenever you’d like Mr. Holloway.”

“You know that I’ll be over here every night right, love?” The deep chuckle vibrates in his chest, me being able to feel it easily by our close proximity.

“Well, I definitely wouldn’t mind,” I giggle, tugging on the drawstrings of his sweats.

“Oh, really? Well we should get started right now, then,” he jokes, putting his hands on my waist and pulling up the loose tank top a bit.

I place my hands at the nape of his neck, twisting and untwisting the short locks. My tongue flicks over my lips as he bites his own. I chew on the side of my cheek, my eyes darting from his eyes to his lips then back to his eyes again and again.

Without any warning, Nolan connects his lips with mine, pushing me backwards until my back hits the wall.

He pushes his body into mine, pressing me into the wall harder. He starts working his mouth along my neck and jawline, taking his time to surely mark some spots.

“N-no, hickeys,” I manage to say through quickened, harsh breaths.

“Uh-huh,” Nolan responds, his composure a lot stronger than mine, which I didn’t like.

I grab his chin with my hand, pushing his head up to stop his mouth form moving anywhere else. My hands grasp his jaw, kissing him roughly and forcing him to take steps backwards.

I then shove him onto the bed, a devilish smirk playing on his lips. I press another kiss against them, then suddenly pull back.

“Wait, what about the movie?” I query.

“God, we’ll save that for later. Just come here already.”

I laugh, climbing on top of him, my legs on either side of his body. “Impatient are we?”

“Just a little bit.” But, I didn’t mind. He could be as impatient as he wanted with me.

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Archie x Reader: The Milkshake Date

Warnings: none
Requested: yes

*your POV*

“Archie, you know my parents won’t let me go on a date with you. You know they think you’re a bad guy.” I replied to the love of my high school life, Archie Andrews. Archie was a great guy. An amazing football player, musician and a good and honest person, but for some reason my family didn’t like him.

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I slept on the floor of my parents bedroom until an absurd age because I thought my room was haunted. The event that finally broke me was one night I was sleeping on their floor (because company protects you from ghosts obviously) when I heard the noise of their bedroom door opening. I open my eyes to see a dozen or so pairs of feet entering the room silently, as nit to wake anyone else up. I tried to sit up to see what was going on, only to find myself unable to move. I looked above me and there was a figure, clad in a black suit holding me down.

That alone would have scared most people but what paralyzed m with fear was his face. Or rather, a lack of face. It was blank, as if someone had stole it. All that was left was a mouth, a ragged oval that sucked at the air and stole my breath. I glanced down at the figures standing at my feet to see that they too had no faces. They knelt down and held me to the floor as one put on a pair of gloves. They were going to take my face. They had theirs stolen and wanted mine to replace it. I would become one of them.

I saw my mother’s hand, hanging over the bed, just out of reach. I tried to move, to wake her. Maybe if I got to her in time, she and my father could escape. They could take my sister and get out before the faceless men came for them. But the men held me down as the gloved man placed a knife to my temple. He made a small incision and slipped his finger inside, pulling at the skin and tearing my face away. I struggled to warn my mother but I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, vision fading as my face was torn away.

I awoke to find my parents standing over me, lights on, dog going bonkers and my sister standing in the doorway. Apparently, I had started shrieking in my sleep and they couldn’t wake me, before my heart finally gave out. My mother, who was trained in CPR, had to revive me as my heart had stopped beating out of sheer terror. After this incident, we went to the hospital where it was discovered that I suffer from pretty severe sleep paralysis. That, coupled with a birth defect that makes my heart weak, had nearly killed me.

Don’t believe what they tell you kids, you dreams can hurt you.

[Story credit: /u/Silas13013]

Flustered Fraser - Teenage AU

Thanks @diversemediums for helping me beta this. We’ve got some really fun ideas for things in the future, so stay tuned! This is a direct follow up to Awkward Conversations.

Anonymous asked:  Can teenage Jamie hide his discomfort when meeting uncle Lamb

I pause outside Mam’s door, holding the letter from my headmistress in my sweaty hands.

“Mam?” I ask quietly.

“Jamie, love. Come in.”

I push the door open and walk slowly into my parents bedroom. I’ve only been inside this room a few times and it still felt ancient. But when I see Mam’s smilin’ face, I canna do anything but smile back.

“Come here my handsome lad. Lay your head, man, and tell me what’s a matter.”

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Glitch In The Matrix Stories #28

I Duplicated A Box Of Magic: The Gathering Cards

I have a deck of Magic cards themed around Elves that I dusted off to show a friend last night at my local game store. I haven’t opened this box in almost 2 years. It was my first deck. Before I left, I opened up the box and looked at the deck list that I had put in the box, and checked to make sure all the cards were there, which they were. 

I went up to my LGS and played some (with a different deck) and my friend had to leave before I could show him the deck, at which point I left too and came straight home. When I got home I played on my computer and went to bed, the deck remained in my bag.

This morning, I woke up and the deck box was sitting on my desk. I thought it was odd, but brushed it off figuring I had put it there last night and forgot to put it on my shelf where it sits. Well, I went to my bag to grab some cards I got last night to put in a different deck and there’s that box. It’s the same box. I thought that I had accidentally picked up someone else’s box. And so I look through it and it’s the same deck. Down to which cards are foil and what version it came from. No one but me has seen this deck since the last time I played it, 2 years ago.

Credits to: crushcastles23

Someone Was Missing

Me and four other friends of mine were hanging out after school because there was pizza or something- I don’t really remember why we stayed. We were bored and wandering the hallways when one of our guy friends excused himself to go to his sports practice. The locker room for that particular sport is in the basement, a place well known for its title, “The Dungeon”.

Now it was me and three other girls and we were just messing around the stairs, going down into The Dungeon, when one of the faculty members began coming down to where we were. We freaked out and got the hell out of there (because four girls messing around the guy’s locker room isn’t exactly “OK”).

As we were about to go back to the main part of the school, my friend stopped and said “Wait, somebody’s missing.”

At that point I got horrible goosebumps, like not the “oh that’s creepy haha” goosebumps, but the “something is terribly wrong here and we need to go NOW” goosebumps. The air just seemed dangerous and off and it still gives me goosebumps to this day.

We never figured out who was missing because it had been us four girls since our guy friend left, and we couldn’t figure out why we felt that way. I can only think that somebody had been with us and they were kind of “erased” from the universe, and we don’t remember.

Credits to: keikabug

Flash With Silhouettes

I must have seven or eight years old. That’s somewhere in the early 90′s. it must have been 11 pm or so and I was getting ready to sleep in my parents’ bedroom. I could see the dark sky out of the window. The lights were off. I was staring at the sky, when suddenly I saw 3 simultaneous and separate flashes in the sky, equidistant from each other, and a godlike figure in each of them. 

From what I can remember they looked like 3 Indian gods- Bramha, Vishnu and Mahesh (Shiva). Just one flash and they disappeared. I cannot give you the exact description of the figures as it was long time ago and whenever I try to re-see it in my mind, I can see just 3 silhouettes. The reason I’d call it a ‘glitch’ is because I can clearly remember my eyes were wide open at the time (I wasn’t dreaming).

Credits to: tekenaki

My Clothes Keep Duplicating

A little backstory about me. I’m a male 23 year old who lives with his parents, brother and grandmother. The washing, putting away of clothes etc is done by my mom.

One day I noticed that one of my favourite pair of pants was missing. Black sweatpants with cuffed ankles that were the comfiest pair of pants to wear. At first I thought my mom had placed it in one of the other wardrobes in the house or was hidden away by my grandma who seems to move items into seemingly strange places due to her dementia. 

After about a month of searching, I thought the pants were a goner - alas I was wrong. As it turns out, I found the pair in the boot of my car buried under bags and other items that i kept hoarded in the back of my car. When I placed it back in my wardrobe for a split second I was confused. An exact pair of the same pants was in my wardrobe. I don’t recall ever buying a second pair nor did I recall ever picking someone else’s pair up from a party, nor does anyone else in the house wear these same kind of pants. I didn’t think much of it at the time as I was more happy at the fact that I had a second pair of my favourite pants. 

After a month however, another item of clothing went missing- a denim button up shirt. Again after about a month of searching, the shirt popped up in my closet… twice. The first time I saw it, I assumed my mom had finally found the shirt (there are 3 bathrooms with 3 separate laundry bins in my house) and after questioning her, this theory turned out to be correct. 

However, that day when I arrived home, threw the shirt in the laundry bin, showered and came back to my room, the exact same shirt was there. I questioned my mum about it and she recalls only cleaning one (albeit there are a lot of clothes my mum cleans and sometimes gets my grandma to help out as it helps give her a bit of structure with her illness). This however hasn’t stopped there. 

In the past two years I’ve had socks, a t-shirt, a jumper and a pair of underwear duplicate with each time just as perplexing as the last. I have a coat that has been currently missing for the past year (I might have genuinely lost that one) and am totally perplexed as to what’s been going on.

Credits to: roprobro

Little Brother Problems

“There’s something in the woods.”

Those, right there, are words I got tired of hearing from my younger brother, Caleb. He’s around eight years old and you know how kids that age are, their imaginations run wild. My parents and I originally tried to soothe him and calm his fears but after months of the same repeated line, we were all tired of it.

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anonymous asked:


found out my bf was cheating while he was cooking me dinner and so i live streamed myself talkin shit for abt 30 mins and in that time this bitch packed up the food and hid in my parents bedroom and i went on a witch hunt 2k17 in my house on stream to find him nd yelled at him and then he sat outside texting me that he stole my ipad and school textbooks and was gonna drive them out to the desert to a location only he knew and if i wanted them back i had to go out with him LMAO

and thats what u missed on glee!!!!

“The house I lived in growing up was haunted. I have absolutely no doubts about that. There were a lot of craazyy stuff that would happen (when I was in the eighth grade, a bucket flew across the room and almost hit me. there was a tapping in the wall that even when the wall was removed for renovations, there was nothing there to cause noises. My dad heard a little girl saying, “Hi Daddy” on multiple occasions. I felt an icy cold hand on my neck one night. Just stuff.) but there is one particular story I would like to type out. This happened when I was early in my first semester of my senior year of high school. Up until this point, I had no reason to be afraid of being home by myself. Normally, my mom would have been home, but she was out of town. My dad was working, and my twin sister was also working. * I would also like to point out that at this point in my life, we were not able to afford me having a cell phone and we didn’t have a house phone either*

normally always got home around 3:15 every school afternoon, and this was the case for this day. So it seemed like a night to myself. I went upstairs to my room and started watching House MD. (By the way, in my senior year, I binge watched House, Smallville, Bones and another show I can’t remember, haha.)

Around five that night, I began to hear noise coming from the room below me. I thought it could have just been our cats. However, the noise continued and just gradually got louder. I paused the TV and listened while sitting on my bed for about an hour. It sounded like someone was throwing, breaking things. It was so loud. I had started to panic a while ago and my anxiety was escalating quickly.

I quietly got off my bed and had my feet flat on the floor of my room. I could feel the vibrations underneath my feet, which terrified me more. I stood there for another hour, frozen in my anxiousness. I did not have anything to defend myself with , the only this I could see was a dinner plate and a wooden drum stick for a drum set.

Suddenly, the noise just stopped. So I grabbed the plate and the drum stick and waited. I could here someone creeping really quietly up the stairs. It felt like forever. But no one came.When my sister finally came home, I ran down and hugged her and was crying and explained what happened. When I looked into my parents’ bedroom, everything was in place. The next night, I was in the shower with the door shut tightly, and while I was showering, I heard the door swing violently open. When I peeked out of the curtain, there was no one there. To this day, I don’t have any explanation as to what happened. But it is still really hard for me to be alone in a house.”

By: @ocarinaofloafs