PT

hi:

when teachers start lecturing the whole class about how they’re wasting so much of their time, and end up just wasting even more time

image

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April 13 2014 {♥ 106616}

totallykyleighhi

wildhogs2007:

wildhogs2007:

i seriously just had the thought “i wonder if I could rush from the computer to the top of the fridge to squat in the 3 seconds photobooth gives me”

image

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April 13 2014 {♥ 143039}

totallykyleighwildhogs2007

liamwayne:

x

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April 11 2014 {♥ 922}

triharrytopsliamwayne

#lp

bisousniall:

BETTER THAN WORDS + HAPPILY

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April 11 2014 {♥ 4897}

triharrytopsbisousniall

(Source: aubreygifs)

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April 11 2014 {♥ 784}

flawlexxxaubreygifs

sadqueerpunk:

endlesssorcererushiromiya:

sadqueerpunk:

i think it’s so cute when straight people think they’ve never met a queer person. that’s adorable. you’re adorable.

I think it’s cute when people blame straight people for being born.

you’re right!! that’s exactly what i said in my post!!! reading comprehension a+ i’m so proud

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April 11 2014 {♥ 24922}

sterekariumsadqueerpunk

helenish:

Look at these two stayin’ alive motherfuckers, completely 100% believable and realistic as high school juniors, not as a couple of guys recruited straight out of college into undercover police work, walking back from the gym, Stiles saying,

"Hale’s involved, I know he has to be—I just need to figure out how to get close enough to figure it out—" and Scott’s going to worry about him, that maybe he’s getting in too deep, and he’ll be right, because Stiles has already brought Derek lunch, just coming by to see him at his studio, where Derek makes meticulous models of half-burnt houses, cuts up musty books he buys at library sales into wolves, spreading oak trees, creepy art work Stiles doesn’t really get, but he knows what it means when Derek looks up at him, puts down his x-acto knife. 

He kisses Derek—has to, to get close enough to be invited to meet Derek’s friends, get a look at the inside of his apartment—but he doesn’t fuck him. That’s crossing a line. He thinks about it, what it would be like to take Derek to bed, but he doesn’t do it. He tells Derek he wants to take it slow, if that’s okay. Derek smiles at his feet and says yeah, sure, okay, if that’s—yeah, of course.

Derek finds out the worst possible way, of course, probably when he gets kidnapped and it’s Stiles who shows up and gets him, wearing jeans and an agency windbreaker, grim and angry and cutting the ropes on Derek’s wrists, and then the part where Stiles shoves him down hard behind a table and shoots someone—

"I thought—" Derek says, numbly, sitting numbly on some concrete steps where someone else in a uniform told them to wait, "I thought you were a social worker."

"Yeah, I’m—not," Stiles says. He’s all banged up. There’s a cut on the bridge of his nose and his knuckles are scraped raw. 

"You didn’t want me to know?" Derek says, and then he sees Stiles’ face and he knows, he knows what it looks like, his family, the connections to the Argents, all the deaths, he knows. "Oh," he says.

"It wasn’t like that," Stiles says.

"You were using me to get closer to—or. You thought I had something to do with it," Derek says, his voice wavering, breaking.

"Derek, I’m sorry," Stiles says.

"That’s why you wouldn’t—" Derek draws in a short, hurt breath. "I believed you, that stupid fucking story about how badly you’d been hurt," he says. "But you just didn’t want to fuck me because it would have screwed up your case."

"Derek—"

"Fuck you," Derek says. Stiles watches him walk away. Two weeks later there’s a box on his desk at work: a sweater he left at Derek’s once when the weather turned unseasonably warm, the whisk Stiles bought for him at a stoop sale when they were out one Saturday, just walking around. It was 75 cents. That’s it, that’s everything. Stiles never stayed over, never had a toothbrush, never left any other clothes. 

He keeps the whisk—something like a reminder to be less of an asshole. He clips the newspaper articles about Derek’s gallery shows, keeps them in a neat little stack tucked into a book.

He thinks about what it was like, kissing Derek, the way Derek would sigh and shift towards him and open his mouth, how badly he wanted to fuck him, how he’s a lying sack of crap. 

A year after that Kate Argent breaks out of prison. Stiles is working a 36 hour turnaround in New Orleans and doesn’t even hear about it until he gets back, and by then Derek’s been gone for 12 hours, the back door of his studio hanging open, cut paper littering the floor, fluttering out into the alleyway behind the studio in the late afternoon dark gold sunlight, where they used to sit on crates and drink beers, where—
They find him, of course they find him, three awful days and a hundred bad leads later, Stiles running on fumes and the nap Scott forced him to take on the lumpy break room couch. Derek is slumped on the floor of the warehouse when they find him, eyes closed, and it takes an age for Stiles to slide down on his knees next to Derek, to put his hand on his shoulder and turn him over, expecting—when Derek opens his eyes, Stiles can’t hold it back, the audible sound of relief.
"Did he say it?" Scott wants to know at the debriefing. They let Derek take a shower in the locker room and now he’s wearing agency sweats and a t-shirt he’s pretty sure belongs to Scott, eating takeout from the italian place around the corner.
"Say what?"
Scott sighs. “He was supposed to say “We have to stop meeting like this.”“
"Why?" Derek says.
"You know what, fine," Scott says, aggrieved. "I give up."
*
They let him go and he goes straight to the studio, even though it’s nearly nine at night. Stiles is there, straightens guiltily. The floor is clean, the broken pieces of a few of Derek’s works stacked neatly on a table in the corner.
"I thought you’d be a few more hours," Stiles says, his hand tight on a the broom handle. "I wasn’t—I didn’t want you to come back to it—"
"We should stop meeting like this," Derek says.
"Okay," Stiles says. "Sorry, I’ll just—I’ll go."
"Wait," Derek. "I meant—"
"Oh," Stiles says. "Oh, were you doing Scott’s shitty line?"
"Yeah," Derek says. There’s a long, weird, silence.
"I dunno," Stiles says finally. "I think maybe that line only works if then the credits roll, like, immediately after."
"Probably so," Derek says. He gets the dustpan out of the closet, and they sweep up the last of the paper together, move the table back against the wall, tape up the broken window pane, working in companionable silence.
"Thanks for finding me," Derek says, quietly, smoothing down the last piece of masking tape on the window, glancing up at Stiles to find him leaning against the wall, smiling a little.
"Anytime," Stiles says.
ROLL CREDITS.

(Source: alphalewolf)

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April 11 2014 {♥ 8222}

sterekariumalphalewolf

nazerine:

excessivecompulsive:

nazerine:

the anti vaccination movement basically consists of random people with no knowledge of medicine going “I can medicine better than doctors” and it would be hilarious if it wasn’t literally killing people

you dont need vaccines, I havent had any and Im still doing great

wow, what a compelling argument. you’ve got me

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April 11 2014 {♥ 65242}

sterekariumnazerine

fatbabeprincess:

*kourtney kardashian voice* like literally you’re being so rude right now

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April 11 2014 {♥ 1230}

sterekariumfatbabeprincess

trytomakemestay:

i may seem bitter because i wanted happily to be the summer single but you dont understand you dont understand

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April 11 2014 {♥ 3472}

sterekariumtrytomakemestay

wienrs:

if you’re reading this i’m beautiful

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April 11 2014 {♥ 132275}

mothercluckerwienrs

little-miss-disney:

When pixar does the thing that makes you question if you are actually watching a children’s movie.

(Source: oxnam)

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April 11 2014 {♥ 189682}

sterekariumoxnam

(Source: mindpalace)

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April 11 2014 {♥ 5202}

boyhoodbraveriesmindpalace

drunktuesdaze:

dylanships:

Teen Wolf AU: In which Derek loses his memory. 

uhmmmmm I love this.  I’ve read approximately eleven hundred stories where Stiles loses his memory and Derek is a big dumbo who stands in the corner and stares at him unblinkingly until he remembers again.  WHICH I LOVE, DON’T GET ME WRONG, but I need this story now, the story where Derek loses everything, loses Stiles, and Stiles kind of bows out, forbids everyone from telling Derek, but there’s little clues—Derek’s not stupid, not entirely.  His bed doesn’t smell solely of him, his pack is awkward about things, leaving the spot next to Stiles open, the passenger seat of the Camaro, splitting into pairs to go hunting and it seems like he and Stiles are expected to be an automatic.  But Stiles doesn’t treat him like Derek would expect.  He’s funny, and quick, and at first it gets on Derek’s nerves, makes him mean with the stress of keeping up with someone like Stiles, but he gets the hang of it, and it feels like finding his rhythm, feels like a grove he’s settling back into.  He thinks maybe,  maybe he’s misinterpreting everyone’s weirdness, maybe he and Stiles were just friends, but there’s a bottom drawer that doesn’t have any of his clothes in it, and there’s two toothbrushes in the cup in the bathroom, and when Derek is searching for a sock one morning, he finds his mother’s engagement ring, reset and remade for a man’s finger, someone with long, thin fingers, someone he was close enough to want to give it to.  

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April 11 2014 {♥ 8716}

sterekariumdylanships

poupon:

drakensberg:

The reading comprehension and overall common sense on this website is piss poor.

how dare you say we piss on the poor

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April 11 2014 {♥ 264458}

sterekariumdrakensberg

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