that police guy from teen wolf looks like the love child of tom hiddleston and steve rogers
at first i looked at this like “oh look tom hiddleston” but then i was like “oh no thats chris evans” wHat iS hapPenning
Think about the first name you were ever called,
and then think how long it took until
you got called a pussy
or a slut,
or a bitch,
or a whore,
all of which are words that fall too close to ‘girl.’
Think about the first time you got called a ‘girl’
and they said it with a sneer.
Like it was a bad thing.
For a boy, it is the lowest degradation to get called a girl.
For a girl, it is the lowest degradation to get called a girl.
Remember, black widow spiders and female praying mantises eat their partners after intercourse.
Remember, it’s the lionesses who hunt.
They come back with bloody muzzles, dragging bloated carcasses as the alpha lion strides around with his mane puffing out.
Remember, it’s only the female mosquitoes who drink blood.
We’re the ones who do the necessary work, dirty our hands,
fuck or fight or both.
We’re often the smaller sex, which makes us a harder target
as we slink close and sink our teeth in.
Remember: we’re deadly.
You should be proud to be called a girl.
every time you
tell your daughter
you yell at her
out of love
you teach her to confuse
anger with kindness
which seems like a good idea
till she grows up to
trust men who hurt her
cause they look so much
accidentally picked the wrong seats in an airplane/theater au?
hugged the wrong person from behind au?
wrong person waved back au???
TOOK THE WRONG COFFEE ORDER AU
THE MAILMAN DELIVERED A WEIRD PACKAGE (sEX TOYSSS) TO THE WRON GHOUSE AU
WALKING INTO THE WRONG DORM ROOM AU
SAT DOWN IN THE WRONG CLASS AU
CALLED THE WRONG NUMBER AU
GOT INTO/WAVED AT THE WRONG CAR AU
TOOK THE WRONG LUGGAGE AU
why doesn’t this website love Miranda Hart like??
she’s the queen I mean
lets not forget this gem
she understands me
oh and yeah
can I get a ‘spirit animal!’ over here??
Same girl, same
my thought process exactly
oh and um yeah
basically she has this show called Miranda on BBC and you should watch it bc perf.
Some of you are going to find this exceptionally perverse, but: I just want a post-Nogitsune story where Stiles and Derek go on lots of 1950s style dates and don’t have sex. At the end of every outing, they exchange one closemouthed kiss, smile shyly at one another, and then say goodnight.
(Because Stiles feels like his father has been through a lot, this year, and he really doesn’t want to give him more to worry about. Because Derek still has unresolved Kate issues. Because Stiles is still getting used to being in control of his own body again, being by himself in there. Because it is nice to get to know each other slowly, on quiet evenings where they learn how to make fresh ricotta together and they take a calligraphy class together and they go to the circus when it comes into town and they go to a classical concert at the local conservatory and they split milkshakes and they walk through the local botanical gardens and learn about climbing vines and they spend three hours visiting the railroad museum.
Once, outside the artisinal creamery where they learned about California dairy history, the kiss gets a little more heated than usual, but they both immediately pull away. “I’m sorry,” Derek says, breathlessly. “No, I’m— it was me, I should be,” Stiles says. But it was both of them. Stiles twists his fingers in the sample of cheesecloth he’d been given at the end of the tour, and he smiles before linking their arms together for the walk back to the car.)
And in the week leading up to Stiles’s 18th birthday, everyone is being super annoying with their unsubtle innuendoes, and Isaac is like, “are you going to wait until the actual day of, or just show up naked in a trenchcoat at midnight?” to Stiles, and Peter says lots of gross things to Derek.
But Stiles doesn’t see Derek until 7 PM on the evening of his birthday, which is when Derek normally comes over for their weekly Netflix night. Derek gives him a wrapped present, and they eat mac and cheese and steamed broccoli. The sheriff gets home late, and raises his eyebrows to see them sitting at the kitchen table, playing Monopoly. “I thought you’d…be at Derek’s,” he says, immediately cringing at the thought, and at himself for voicing it.
A slight cloud passes over Stiles’s face. “I’m getting better, Dad. I’m just not— I’m not—”
"We have time, don’t worry about it," Derek says, shaking the dice in his cupped hand. "And you owe me $800. Don’t think you’re getting out of it because it’s your birthday."
"I bet your stupid hotel doesn’t even have wi-fi," Stiles says, digging into his pile of money. His knees are pressed against Derek’s under the table, and his father presses a kiss against his temple before heading upstairs to bed.