I found a post that was beautiful
  • GD: Take me to the art museum and make out with me.
  • Creek: But they said not to touch the masterpieces.
  • GD: Well, someone's gotta pin the artwork to the wall~
  • Branch (through a walkie talkie): This is Branch, these idiots are f***ing in the west wing again...

“A few weeks after Eric and I stopped talking to each other, Trevor and I happened to be driving home from school in separate cars. Trevor was driving his car ahead of me when we pulled up to the stop sign near my house. The spot was right next to the bus stop. Eric, who was riding the bus again, was throwing snowballs with other kids from school. When Eric saw Trevor, he picked up a chunk of ice from where it forms over the gutter. He threw it as hard as he could at Trevor’s car, denting the trunk. Then, without missing a beat, he picked up another chunk of ice and threw it at my car. The ice smashed into my windshield; I heard it crack. It wasn’t a large chip, but enough to make one of those little spider webs around it. I was livid. I slammed on the brakes and leaned out of the car, yelling, “Fuck you! Fuck you, Eric! You’re gonna pay to fix this!” Eric laughed at me. “Kiss my ass, Brooks! I ain’t paying for shit!” I floored the gas down the remaining few blocks to my parents’ house, went in and told my mom exactly what had happened. Then—seeing red—I went straight to Eric’s place to talk to his parents. I hammered on their front door, still furious. All I could think of was getting back at Eric. Mrs. Harris answered, and I glared at her. “I’ve got something to tell you about your son,” I said. She looked back at me, a little confused. “Okay…” She asked me to come in. We sat down in her living room, and I told her everything Eric had been doing in the past few months. “Your son’s been sneaking out at night,” I said. “He’s going around vandalizing things. He’s threatened people. And just now he broke my windshield.” She didn’t seem to believe me. She kept asking me to calm down. That only made me angrier. “He’s got liquor in his room,” I said. “Search it. He’s got spray paint cans in his room. Search it. Eric’s fucked up, and you need to know about it. I’m getting out of here before he gets back, because I’m not gonna deal with him right now.” Mrs. Harris wanted me to stay, to sit down and talk with Eric about this, as if we were in the school counselor’s office or something. I shook my head. “I’m gone,” I said as I got back in the car to go home”.

Brown, B & Merritt, R. (2002). No Easy Answers: The Truth Behind Death at Columbine.

You can read the Spanish version here.

Puedes leer la versión en español aquí.

Come What May - Part 5

Today was supposed to be the happiest day of her life. So why did she feel like she was making the biggest mistake of her life? Roman Reigns/OC/Tama Tonga


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The Sun Will Set For You

Rubbing his face, Roman squinted, trying to adjust his eyes to the growing darkness. Lifting his head slowly, he checked his watch and wondered how long he’d been asleep for. Damn, four hours! He looked around at the untidy suite and groaned. He thanked the Lord that the twins hadn’t returned yet to find him in this mess. They would have ribbed him senseless. Speaking of them, why weren’t they back anyway? Certainly the wedding was over by now.

Dread and misery crawled into his stomach as the thought sank in like dead weight. His love, Ashley was now a married woman. He could have nothing further to do with her. He wasn’t allowed to think about her anymore or see her in that light anymore, or entertain dreams of having successfully repaired what he had damaged anymore. It was over and done, and he could no longer do anything about it.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw his iPhone on the bed, the screen showing he had a number of missed calls and text messages. Sighing heavily, he unlocked his phone and saw he had a voicemail. He wanted to ignore it, but his gut feeling prompted him to give it a listen instead. He tapped it with his thumb and reached for another beer with his free hand, cracking it open and raising it to his lips.

Roman, hey. It’s Ash.”

Keep reading

does it ever feel like we start as clean fresh snowballs but the further we are rolled the more mud and debris we accumulate and no matter what we do we either end up melted or as a dirty little pile of snow in a mall parking lot

Going to the movies today so that’ll be nice.

I’m having a lower that normal self esteem day. Thoughts about one insecurity leads to many thought about multiple insecurities and it snowballs from there.

Good thing I’m used to being the heavy plain one and being perpetually single.

emma watson was so dry during batb what the hell?? plumette/gugu mbatha-raw was so much more entertaining and she’s a fucking feather duster for 95% of the movie
there were times where emma really came to grips with what she wanted her character to be but it was so… eugh, not belle? it was all emma shining through. it was just so dry and totally not emotionally moving. literally right before where the movie perks up with the snowball fight is boring as shit

Because i can never keep it simple… FML…..

Prompt: “In the Snow” - Matsuhana.
(Yes I HC Makki to be the most ridiculous person ever when it comes to clothing. Not all the time, but sometimes, just to provoke. Esp. when he’s meeting up with friends)