riddle-my-hiddles:

young-avenger-wiccan:

my dad sent these to me and said, “Look at our chalkboard in the break room!” 

how in the fuck

(Source: arianemartel, via mtchstrr)

Posted 11 minutes ago

do-you-have-a-flag:

i have a foot stool

otherwise known as that thing my cat and dog like to play one, around and under

otherwise known as the thing that makes me yes “JEAN-LUC! JANEWAY!  DON’T BITE ME!”

name your pets carefully kids

Posted 1 hour ago

princessjohnegbert:

the-midnight-screw:

My sister and I work in a restaurant, and after some disappointing goings-on, I have decided to make a helpful guide.

Please do this! Even at small places like Boston Market, where servers put down your food and clean up after you! Tips can really help out!

(via consulting-timelord-of-mischief)

Posted 2 hours ago
  • Benvolio: 

    In love?
  • Romeo: 

    Out.
  • Benvolio: 

    Of love?
  • Romeo: 

    Out of her favor where I am in love.
  • Benvolio: 

    *looks into the camera like he's on The Office*
Posted 2 hours ago

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, via raisesomehale)

Posted 3 hours ago

moc-tod-ffuts-modnar:

iamtonysexual:

sherlock-mania:

remember-pants-terezi:

heyxkids:

YOU CANT CHANGE THE VOLUME OF THE VOICE IN YOUR HEAD

FUCKING TRY I DARE YOU

ITS IMPOSSIBLE AND ITS REALLY FUCKING WITH MY MIND SOMEONE HUG ME

I CAN MAKE IT SCREAM WITHOUT GETTING LOUDER

H E L P

Holy shit whispering is the same volume as shouting as loud as I can

what have you done

We think in concepts

Concepts have no volume

Because a thought is the loudest silence of all.

(via consulting-timelord-of-mischief)

Posted 4 hours ago
Posted 5 hours ago
Posted 7 hours ago

lets-teaparty:

Sadly there are probably a lot of guys who don’t get the joke here.

(via moonlitramblings)

Posted 7 hours ago
jtkp-mod:

This is so stupid that it’s funny

jtkp-mod:

This is so stupid that it’s funny

(via moonlitramblings)

Posted 8 hours ago
Posted 8 hours ago

eeames:

mickeygallovich:

My two year old little cousin decided she wanted to wear my BH Lacrosse hoodie.

This just screams de-aged Stiles in which no one has any children sized clothes on hand for obvious reasons.

#I’m reblogging this again because I want 20k of stiles being a little kid #and being surprisingly inarticulate so he’s talking and he’s saying real words but he has a big speech impediment that only Scott can really understand #I want stiles bringing random stuff to show Scott and just leaving it on his lap for safe keeping then hobbling off to get more stuff #like ‘this is my stuffed cat and my hairbrush and some macaroni I found on the floor’ #and when Derek’s there he gets all shy and hides and does that thing where kids giggle at you and the #then run away only to peek at you from around a corner #and he falls asleep everywhere in his big sweater and his dads sunglasses because he used to always take his dads sunglasses and Derek buys a car seat for him and everything #and becomes one of the primary ‘watch kid stiles until he’s bigger kid stiles’ tag team #because Derek loves kids and he misses being around them and stiles is such a sweet little brat #but then when they figure out how to turn stiles back it backfires and pow!! #turns Derek into a little kid and he is this weirdly quiet little monster who climbs on everything and never cleans up his toys but snuggles with everyone #I want it all and I want it now (via scottydelgados)

(Source: handsobrien, via sterek-much)

Posted 9 hours ago

kimlennox:

Scarlett’s stunt trainning for her role as Black Widow in Iron Man2

“Scarlett hadn’t really done an action role.And she assured me that she would work as hard as she needed to both get in sharp and do her stunts and learn all that stuff.She spent hours and hours and hours for months.By far the most dedicated actor when it came to stunt work and the physical work.” - Jon Favreau:Director&co-star

(via fratboybucky)

Posted 9 hours ago

assbutt-in-the-garrison:

creppyvevo:

whitedenimghost:

tardis-in-my-tuba:

whimsicalspecks:

theoncomingchibi:

manticore-monster:

smurflewis:

10 things not to say to a women

this is guaranteed way to get yourself murdered

Somebody did this to my friend once, she was like

image

PSA cramps are just the feeling we get when the muscle of our uterus is literally tearing itself to shreds if you were wondering what the bloody stuff was in the first place and /that/ is why this is a Not Good thing to say

Actually a lot of the time cramps are caused by the muscles in our uterus spasming in order to cut off the blood flow to the uterus. Our uterus is basically trying to kill itself which is why your abdomen feels like death.

Also, the hormone that causes it? The first hormone of labor. So, when we get our periods we are literally starting labor for a week. How about that?

basically stab yourself in your lower stomach a thousand times with a dull knife and you’ll know how it feels

fucking thank you

(via consulting-timelord-of-mischief)

Posted 9 hours ago
teenermeener:

It takes me a really long time to come to realizations.

teenermeener:

It takes me a really long time to come to realizations.

(via consulting-timelord-of-mischief)

Posted 10 hours ago
Kreon by Stijn.