1 day ago
34,542 notes
1 day ago
145,318 notes

officialwhitemom:

this is the best 30 seconds or so of my life

2 days ago
19,371 notes
2 days ago
179,492 notes
2 days ago
1,026,079 notes

methlaboratories:

CAN I GET A HELL YEAH IF YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOING WITH YOUR LIFE AND YOU DON’T GET ENOUGH SLEEP

2 days ago
111,660 notes

taggedrne:

taggedrne:

what can be smooth but also rough ;)))))

endoplasmic reticulum

follow for more cell facts

2 days ago
9,926 notes

stay-human:

I cannot recommend this video enough. This woman breaks it down perfectly.

The Stories That Europe Tells Itself About Its Colonial History

by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

“She said once she was shocked that her son while being taught Belgian history, was taught nothing about Congo. She said “They teach my son in school that he must help the poor Africans, but they don’t teach him about what Belgium did in Congo.” Of course, all countries are evasive about the past for which they feel ashamed, but I was shocked by what seemed to me not evasiveness but an erasure of history

If her son doesn’t learn that the modern Congo State began a hundred years ago as the personal property of a Belgian king, who was desperate to get wealthy from ivory and rubber, if her son doesn’t learn that the hands of Congolese people were chopped off for not producing enough resources to meet the king’s greed, if her son doesn’t learn that the Belgian government later led Congo with a deliberate emphasis on not producing an educated class, so that Congolese could become clerks and mechanics but couldn’t go to university, if her son doesn’t learn that more recently, even though it was the Americans who installed the Mobutu dictatorship, Belgium was a major force behind the scenes propping him up, if this young Belgian boy, knows nothing about these incidents, then, at some point, they would perhaps no longer have happened because the past after all is the past because we collectively acknowledged that it is so. 

This young Belgian boy would grow up to see Africa only as a place that requires his aid, his help, his charity with no complications for him. A place that can help him show how compassionate he can be, and most of all, a place whose present has no connection to Europe. 

It is not that Europe has denied its colonial history. Instead, Europe has developed a way of telling the story of its colonial history that ultimately seeks to erase that history”

3 days ago
433 notes

mypocketshurt90:

lorraineblack90:

bronzedragon:

jane-potter:

lorraineblack90:

remustonkss:

New from J.K. Rowling - Illness and Disability - Pottermore (31/7/14)

For those who don’t have Pottermore (I do!!), Jo talks about Illness and Disability in the Wizarding World.

Okay, so it’s now canon that all wixen with mental illnesses, neuroatypicality, and disabilities are “cured” by magic? (Like I’m not saying that I wouldn’t love a magic cure for my depression, but plenty of autistic folks would feel differently.) I mean, apparently as long as it’s due to “mundane” nature, as I assume being born with something is, magic can fix it.

Also side-eyeing a bit how Moody is the only disability representation. There’s a lot more to disability than battle wounds.

This is still an improvement on a quote she gave in an interview a long time ago (I wish I could find it, but I think it was on a Scholastic website that’s no longer extant - I’ve been digging around for a while in Accio Quote! but am having no luck, but this is one of those things where I remember the quote was made because it bothered me), - but, anyway, whatever she said before Pottermore, her initial statement sounded more like “wizards aren’t born with disabilities”/”wizards don’t get chronic illnesses” - which really, really sucks for a disabled kid who wants to pretend they could be a wizard but is constantly reminded that they can’t even *pretend* they’re going to get a Hogwarts letter because simply having the illness/disability proves they’re non-magical, and has to resign themselves to a lack of representation (except via magical symbolism - Lupin, Moody, etc.) because you literally do not exist in the Wizarding World, (which, again, really sucked and this is…a bit of an improvement on that, I guess?) 

Saying that there’s a “magic cure”/that magic can solve disability/illness is a hell of a lot better for people who have a disability/chronic illness where they’d love a cure (and, yeah, a magical cure for chronic pain would be fantastic) - but JKR’s Pottermore dialogue here sounds like mundane disabilities are something the Wizarding World doesn’t deal with at all/sees as curable - which would, I think, that disabled wizards/witches who don’t want a cure (say, members of the Deaf community or non-neurotypical people) would have a problem with wider Wizarding society that sees all Muggle disability as something to be cured/not understand why people wouldn’t seek a magical cure. (That would definitely open up possibilities wrt fanfic - I do think that the WW tends to have a “use magic to fix it!” philosophy and would clash with the disabled wizards/witches who don’t want or need what they’re offering.) Not to mention that fandom has had some awesome headcanon/worldbuilding wrt what magic could do for accommodations and adaptations and the WW becomes a much more interesting place when you don’t shut all of that down entirely.

The “wizards can get sick but have cures for everything” approach, of course, does open up a different line of problems that were more easily avoided when JKR was going “wizards don’t get sick/don’t get Muggle disabilities/etc.” (namely, if wizards can cure all Muggle illness but don’t then they’re really bastards, because if they can cure anyone with cancer and don’t because of preserving the Statute then that’s just 100% morally indefensible and also doesn’t make a lot of sense in terms of half-bloods and Muggle-borns having Muggle relatives who might die from these things) - but that’s a lot more easily explicable, and I have the feeling that my head canon might actually be the eventual canon explanation, in that you have to be magical to use the magical cures for the Muggle illnesses. It would also make more sense to say that Muggles generally can’t catch Wizarding illnesses than to say that the Statute is somehow protective, given that the Statute doesn’t prevent a sick wizard from wandering through Muggle public spaces, but…idk, this could go either way (with the possibility of wizards kidnapping people who happen to contract Wizarding diseases, curing them, and then Obliviating them?) 

(IIRC, JKR’s said before that magical potions would have no effect on Muggles - so a Muggle couldn’t use Polyjuice or Felix Felicis - and this would be the most sensible explanation, that a Wizarding cure for cancer would have no effect on a Muggle. Although this might slightly contradict The Tales of Beedle the Bard, in which the old wizard of the hopping pot story would brew remedies for Muggle neighbors…but that’s probably retconnable/you could say he was brewing Muggle remedies/non-magical medicine.) 

Mental illness is more of an issue, since we know that Tonks suffered from depression in OotP, that it wasn’t a magically-induced depression, and that it wasn’t magically curable (…presumably.) So idk how JKR’s conception of “wizards can cure all disabiliites! no mundane illness!” factors in vis-a-vis mental illness - on one hand, I’m sure as a depression sufferer, she’d love to have a Wizarding World where there’s a cure, but OTOH, Tonks and the text…I suppose Tonks could’ve refused treatment, but that doesn’t entirely square for me, either.

…idk, this is rambling, but I’ve had a lot of thoughts on this and seeing the Pottermore post tends to raise more questions/issues than it answers.

For some reason, I think she just had in mind the physical aspect of disabilities. I mean, Skellegrow can regrow your bones, so unless you’ve had a bad encounter with a Dark Curse, theoreticaly you could regrow an amputated limb.

I think mental illnesses are something completely different, and much more complex. As Bronzedragon said, Tonks suffered from depression.

Bellatrix Lestrange was probably insane (though what kind of illness she had is a mystery to me), Moody was suffering from PTSD (Constant Vigilance!), and Merlin knows who else had what.

Not to mention the myriad of mental illnesses the prisoners of Azkaban have, with dementors roaming about like it’s nobody’s business.

But you can’t just perform a Cheering Charm and hope everything goes back to normal. Remember Cheering Charms? A third year charm that, if performed correctly, cheers and creates a sense of euphoria temporarily. Ron overdoes it and Harry is left laughing hysterically for a while, if I recall.

We haven’t heard of any potions that can fix it, charms are only temporary, so there’s obviously no way to magically treat mental illnesses as far as we know. We also haven’t heard of any curses that affect the person on a mental level without affecting the physical. An example of this are the Longbottoms, tortured into insanity. I’d consider this a mental illness, provoked by Dark Magic. And it very obvously doesn’t have a cure, as they’ve been in St. Mungos since that fateful night.

As is Lockhart, and anyone with a mental illness. In that regard, I think they’re at a much earlier point than their muggle counterparts. They don’t have treatment, so they’re put on a permanent psych ward in the hospital.

I kind of read it as mental disability caused by physically-induced trauma could be cured, not necessarily anything from chemical imbalance or psychological trauma.   I’m not even so curious about what they can do as what they are willing to do, and what they even recognize as mental illness.  Obviously the wizarding community is ready and willing to fix someone with a railroad spike to the head, but do they care enough to create cures for depression or PTSD?

Wouldn’t Ariana Dumbledore have been cured after being attacked by muggle boys?  Whatever they could have done to her would have fallen into the “mundane nature” category.  How would the muggle world have responded to some of the other kids?  Neville probably would have received therapy for his family tragedy and low self-esteem. Cho also could have used some therapy for a bit, and maybe she could have tried an anti-depressant.  Luna might have been diagnosed with some type of delusional disorder, which I’m not saying is a good thing.  Oh, and alcoholism doesn’t seem to be recognized as an illness.  If there was a simple magical fix, why would it exist?  Mundungus and Hagrid are both implied to drink more than they should.  Trelawney has to hide her sherry bottles.  The only one concerned with curing alcohol abuse was a little house elf trying to help his friend, which might mean there was no research into this in humans or Dobby would have had a starting point.

The wizarding world probably doesn’t see mental illness where we see it.  They probably have very little concept of it since so much of their health care (both physical and mental) either falls into a “perfectly curable” or “incurable” category.  Even when they could provide something life-changing for an incurable case, like Wolfsbane Potion for werewolves, they don’t bother.

3 days ago
542,765 notes
totallynotmisha:

2002bape:

YOOOO SO LOOK DA FIRST TIME I EVER GOT ON DIS RIDE I WAS WITH A WHITE FAMILY AND U KNOW WHITE FOLKS CRAZY SO DEY DONT FEAR ROLLER COASTERS OR DEATH IN GENERAL. AFTER ABOUT 10 MINUTES OF TELLIN DEM DAT I DIDNT WANNA GET ON I FINALLY SAID YES CUZ I AINT NEVER BEEN NO BITCH AND I DIDNT PLAN ON STARTING THAT DAY. WHEN DA ENGINEER SAID “PLS LEAN BACK AND KEEP THE BACK OF UR HEAD PRESSED AGAINST YOUR SEAT” AND I SAW EVERYBODY STICK DA BACK OF THEIR HEADS TO THE CHAIR I KNEW DAT I MADE DA WORST DECISION OF MY LIFE CUZ I EVEN SAW SOME BLACK FOLKS LISTEN AND U KNOW DAT WHEN BLACK PEOPLE LISTEN A WHITE LADY’S ADVICE , ITS DA REAL DEAL. SO MY FIRST MISTAKE WAS REFUSING TO PRESS MY HEAD AGAINST THE SEAT… THE RIDE TAKES OFF AND MY DOME SLAMS AGAINST THE CHAIR WHILE MY NECK SNAPPED… UNCONSCIOUS INSTANTLY.. WHEN I AWOKE FROM MY 3 SECOND SLUMBER WE HAD REACHED DA VERY TOP OF THE RIDE WHERE THE RIDE MAKES A QUICK PAUSE… WHEN THE RIDE MADE THAT PAUSE I OPENED MY EYES CAUSE I THOUGHT THE RIDE WAS OVER AND WE ALL MADE IT SAFELY. BOY WAS I WRONG… I OPENED MY EYES AND DA ONLY THING I SAW WAS A 300 FOOT DROP STRAIGHT TO DA GROUND SO I SAID “GOD YOU CANT LET ME DIE LIKE DIS”. I THINK I SUFFERED A HEART CONTUSION CUZ MY HEART JUST COMPLETELY STOPPED BEATING… AND THAN THE RIDE TAKES OFF AGAIN… WE MAKE THE 300 FOOT DROP AND I SCREAM MY LUNGS OUT AS IM SCARED TO DEATH BECAUSE DA ONLY TIME A HUMAN SHOULD BE DAT HIGH IN DA AIR IS WHEN THEIR SPIRIT IS BEING SUCKED INTO HEAVEN BY DA GRACE OF GOD.. SO WE SAFELY MAKE IT TO DA END OF DA RIDE AND WHEN WE GET OFF I STUMBLE OUT OF THE SEAT CUZ MY LEGS WENT NUMB AND ALL THE AIR WAS SUCKED OUT OF MY BODY SO I COULDNT TALK EITHER.. DA FIRST THING THESE CRAZY MOTHERFUCKERS TELL ME IS “HEY MAN LETS DO THAT AGAIN THAT WAS WICKED”. I LOOKED AT DEM AND I REALIZED DAT DIS WHITE KID DAT I BEFRIENDED WAS ACTUALLY SATAN. I NO LONGER HAVE ANY WHITE FRIENDS.

please read this whole thing.

totallynotmisha:

2002bape:

YOOOO SO LOOK DA FIRST TIME I EVER GOT ON DIS RIDE I WAS WITH A WHITE FAMILY AND U KNOW WHITE FOLKS CRAZY SO DEY DONT FEAR ROLLER COASTERS OR DEATH IN GENERAL. AFTER ABOUT 10 MINUTES OF TELLIN DEM DAT I DIDNT WANNA GET ON I FINALLY SAID YES CUZ I AINT NEVER BEEN NO BITCH AND I DIDNT PLAN ON STARTING THAT DAY. WHEN DA ENGINEER SAID “PLS LEAN BACK AND KEEP THE BACK OF UR HEAD PRESSED AGAINST YOUR SEAT” AND I SAW EVERYBODY STICK DA BACK OF THEIR HEADS TO THE CHAIR I KNEW DAT I MADE DA WORST DECISION OF MY LIFE CUZ I EVEN SAW SOME BLACK FOLKS LISTEN AND U KNOW DAT WHEN BLACK PEOPLE LISTEN A WHITE LADY’S ADVICE , ITS DA REAL DEAL. SO MY FIRST MISTAKE WAS REFUSING TO PRESS MY HEAD AGAINST THE SEAT… THE RIDE TAKES OFF AND MY DOME SLAMS AGAINST THE CHAIR WHILE MY NECK SNAPPED… UNCONSCIOUS INSTANTLY.. WHEN I AWOKE FROM MY 3 SECOND SLUMBER WE HAD REACHED DA VERY TOP OF THE RIDE WHERE THE RIDE MAKES A QUICK PAUSE… WHEN THE RIDE MADE THAT PAUSE I OPENED MY EYES CAUSE I THOUGHT THE RIDE WAS OVER AND WE ALL MADE IT SAFELY. BOY WAS I WRONG… I OPENED MY EYES AND DA ONLY THING I SAW WAS A 300 FOOT DROP STRAIGHT TO DA GROUND SO I SAID “GOD YOU CANT LET ME DIE LIKE DIS”. I THINK I SUFFERED A HEART CONTUSION CUZ MY HEART JUST COMPLETELY STOPPED BEATING… AND THAN THE RIDE TAKES OFF AGAIN… WE MAKE THE 300 FOOT DROP AND I SCREAM MY LUNGS OUT AS IM SCARED TO DEATH BECAUSE DA ONLY TIME A HUMAN SHOULD BE DAT HIGH IN DA AIR IS WHEN THEIR SPIRIT IS BEING SUCKED INTO HEAVEN BY DA GRACE OF GOD.. SO WE SAFELY MAKE IT TO DA END OF DA RIDE AND WHEN WE GET OFF I STUMBLE OUT OF THE SEAT CUZ MY LEGS WENT NUMB AND ALL THE AIR WAS SUCKED OUT OF MY BODY SO I COULDNT TALK EITHER.. DA FIRST THING THESE CRAZY MOTHERFUCKERS TELL ME IS “HEY MAN LETS DO THAT AGAIN THAT WAS WICKED”. I LOOKED AT DEM AND I REALIZED DAT DIS WHITE KID DAT I BEFRIENDED WAS ACTUALLY SATAN. I NO LONGER HAVE ANY WHITE FRIENDS.

please read this whole thing.

3 days ago
68,957 notes
apersnicketylemon:

revolutioninabox:

A pro-life group in Lansing, Michigan says fetal models have helped save a baby from a late-term abortion. Officials with 40 Days for Life in Lansing posted a picture of a set of fetal models that it says helped changed a woman’s mind about having an abortion.“ I showed the 30-week model to a late-term mom who left the clinic and DID NOT have an abortion. Praise God!” the group wrote.

Literally none of these except the final one is anatomically correct. You literally have a minuturized born infant model as your 12 weeks ant 8 weeks fetus, this is BLATANT misinformation and lies.
Additionally abortions at 30 weeks? Aren’t legal ANYWHERE in the world unless the fetus is already fucking dead or cannot survive outside the uterus on it’s own. You didn’t save ANYTHING, or else you are lying about gestational age OR they weren’t actually going for an abortion or you made the whole story up.
This is propaganda, misinformation and lies, it’s disgusting and it doesn’t actually help your movement. This is (among the reasons) why pro choicers think pro liars are full of shit, and refuse to respect you or your movement. 

apersnicketylemon:

revolutioninabox:

A pro-life group in Lansing, Michigan says fetal models have helped save a baby from a late-term abortion. Officials with 40 Days for Life in Lansing posted a picture of a set of fetal models that it says helped changed a woman’s mind about having an abortion.“ I showed the 30-week model to a late-term mom who left the clinic and DID NOT have an abortion. Praise God!” the group wrote.

Literally none of these except the final one is anatomically correct. You literally have a minuturized born infant model as your 12 weeks ant 8 weeks fetus, this is BLATANT misinformation and lies.

Additionally abortions at 30 weeks? Aren’t legal ANYWHERE in the world unless the fetus is already fucking dead or cannot survive outside the uterus on it’s own. You didn’t save ANYTHING, or else you are lying about gestational age OR they weren’t actually going for an abortion or you made the whole story up.

This is propaganda, misinformation and lies, it’s disgusting and it doesn’t actually help your movement. This is (among the reasons) why pro choicers think pro liars are full of shit, and refuse to respect you or your movement. 

3 days ago
43,946 notes
These are forms of male aggression that only women see. But even when men are afforded a front seat to harassment, they don’t always have the correct vantage point for recognizing the subtlety of its operation. Four years before the murders, I was sitting in a bar in Washington, D.C. with a male friend. Another young woman was alone at the bar when an older man scooted next to her. He was aggressive, wasted, and sitting too close, but she smiled curtly at his ramblings and laughed softly at his jokes as she patiently downed her drink. ‘Why is she humoring him?’ my friend asked me. ‘You would never do that.’ I was too embarrassed to say: ‘Because he looks scary’ and ‘I do it all the time.’

Women who have experienced this can recognize that placating these men is a rational choice, a form of self-defense to protect against setting off an aggressor. But to male bystanders, it often looks like a warm welcome, and that helps to shift blame in the public eye from the harasser and onto his target, who’s failed to respond with the type of masculine bravado that men more easily recognize.
3 days ago
1,159 notes
officerstilinskihale:


for kasign.


edited for sterek purposes :>

Laura’s in the middle of one of her lectures when Derek catches sight of Stiles walking through the door. Every nerve in his body immediately stiffens, and he forces himself to relax before Laura notices. Unfortunately, Laura’s not the type to let anything pass her by. She pauses.
Stares him down.
Derek can feel his eye twitching, but he doesn’t break, and, he doesn’t look over to where Stiles is rocking back and forth on his heels, rubbing his hands together as he peruses the menu.
Okay, so he might not be looking over at Stiles, but he is aware of every movement Stiles is making.
He doesn’t whimper when Stiles swivels on his feet and catches sight of him and Laura. He doesn’t.
He also doesn’t notice the way Stiles purposefully strides towards them and plonks himself down onto the table over. Laura, however, does.
She kicks Derek under the table. “He’s cute,” she hisses, ignoring the way he grimaces. Derek scowls at her, reaching down to rub at his shin, and not-so-subtly glances over. Stiles is the picture of innocence, but Derek knows he heard Laura, because there’s a smirk that’s tugging at the corner of his mouth, his face carefully turned away so Laura can’t see.
“Laura,” Derek warns, and she makes a face.
“Oh come on, when was the last time you got laid? Like, six months?”
Derek inhales sharply. “Laura,” he whispers angrily, as Stiles chokes, and Laura turns to eye him suspiciously, but Stiles has his phone out, and he looks like he’s laughing on the screen, so she turns back to Derek, whose face is bright red at this point. He didn’t really need Stiles to know that he’d been on a fairly lengthy dry spell before they met nearly two months ago.
A dry spell Stiles had helped him relinquish. Multiple times.
“What? It’s not like it isn’t true,” she shrugs, unconcerned, and Derek clenches his jaw.
“You’re not exactly talking quietly,” he says, still angry. She makes another face, and stabs her fork into an innocent tomato slice.
“I’m just saying,” she mutters petulantly, dropping her gaze down to her plate, and Derek feels the sudden urge to apologize. He hasn’t done anything wrong though, so he shovels a spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth to stop himself from saying anything. The mood has gone quiet and somber, and Derek’s wracking his brain for something to say that isn’t an apology, when Stiles clears his throat loudly, and Derek’s phone starts to vibrate in his pocket. He turns to him, sees Laura do the same in his periphery, and wrinkles his brow in confusion when Stiles is tapping his fingers in an irregular rhythm on the countertop, completely oblivious. Derek doesn’t pick up, because duh, Laura, but Stiles doesn’t seem fazed. In fact, his whole face brightens up when he reaches Derek’s voicemail. He settles in more comfortably in his chair, before he catches Derek’s gaze briefly, and he’s suddenly worried about the manic gleam his eyes.
He doesn’t know why, but he has the sudden feeling he should run far, far away.
“Hey,” Stiles’ voice has gone flirty, quiet enough, but still loud enough for both Derek and Laura to hear. Derek can feel his palms start to sweat. “I was just thinking about last night, and,” he pauses and laughs, low and pleased. Derek suddenly feels too-hot in his skin, and he knows he’s blushing. “So I thought I’d tell you now that you better not have plans on Saturday night, because I’m going to sit on your face.”
Derek feels a flash of lust zing through his belly, and he’s staring at Stiles in disbelief when Stiles hangs up, turns to him, and has the gall to wink. Laura, who misses the wink, looks both scandalized and impressed. She mouths ‘wow’ at Derek. “Oh my word,” she says softly, fanning herself. She glances at Stiles then back at Derek again, and a thoughtful look crosses her face.
“No,” he says, before she even opens her mouth.
“You could really use some pointers,” she argues, and before Derek can stop her, she leans over to tap Stiles on the shoulder. “Hi, I’m Laura.”
Stiles raises an eyebrow. “Stiles,” he offers, then laughs when Laura looks absolutely confused. “It’s a nickname. Don’t ask.”
“Alrighty then,” she relaxes into her seat with a smile, before kicking Derek in the shin. Again. “This idiot is my brother, Derek,” she says, not unkindly, and ignores the way Derek scowls at her. Stiles turns and directs a smile onto Derek. It’s hard to miss the way his eyes flick up and down his body as he blatantly checks Derek out, but Laura’s still talking, oblivious. “He’s a bit… Well, tragic is a bit mean, so we’ll stick with horrifically ungifted in the art of being smooth,” she was saying, and Derek wasn’t sure if he wanted to kill her, or himself.
Stiles bites a lip, looking like it’s killing himself not to laugh. “Is that so?”
Laura nods, and she pins Stiles with her most effective puppy dog expression. “I overheard you on the phone -“
“Did you?” Stiles asks, eyes wide, like it’s any news to him, and Derek falls a little bit in love with the smirk curling across his face. “I’m so sorry about that.”
Laura waves the comment away.
“No big, I was just wondering if you could give him some, I don’t know, pointers or something?” Stiles’ eyebrows flew up, and this time, he couldn’t hold back the snort. Laura sighs, put upon. “I know it sounds silly, but I just want him to be happy, you know?” Despite it all, Derek feels a rush of fondness for his older sister. “I think he’s forgotten how.”
Or maybe not.
“Didn’t you have a meeting to get to?” Derek butts in rudely, watching in satisfaction as Laura glances at her watch and swears.
“Please, at least think about it,” she begs Stiles, as she’s standing and double checking she has everything in her bag.
Stiles shrugs. “I don’t see why not? I’m free right now, so if Derek’s not busy…” he trails off, and Laura squeals in delight.
“He’s free until six!” she hollers, before bending down to hug Stiles quickly. “Thanks, cutie,” she winks, and leans over the table to kiss Derek on the cheek. “Try to remember how to flirt, grumpy puss,” she teases, but her voice is fond, and she laughs when Derek scowls at her. “Love you.”
“Yeah, you too,” he sighs, and she disappears, leaving him with the check. Again.
Damn her.
He belatedly remembers Stiles, who’s watching him with a soft look on his face. “I’m so sorry about her,” he says lamely, and is totally not expecting the way Stiles throws his head back to laugh.
“Are you kidding? That was hilarious,” he says, glancing out the window to where Laura’s disappearing into a cab, shooting them a final wave. “You’re not smooth?” he asks, before he hums thoughtfully. “I seem to recall you being pretty smooth when we met.”
Derek rolls his eyes, but Stiles can tell he’s pleased. “Laura is Laura. She has her own ideas about things,” he says, and hooks his ankle around Stiles’ under the table.
Stiles bites his lip, and smiles up at Derek slyly. “I really am free right now, if you wanna?” he waggles his eyebrows, and despite how ridiculous he looks, Derek can hear the heat underneath the words, and he nods.
Stiles beams at him.
+++
When Derek brings Stiles to dinner the next Friday, Laura’s smug for about ten seconds before they tell her they’d been dating the entire time.
She kicks Derek in the shin, and he doesn’t even say a word.

officerstilinskihale:

for kasign.

edited for sterek purposes :>

Laura’s in the middle of one of her lectures when Derek catches sight of Stiles walking through the door. Every nerve in his body immediately stiffens, and he forces himself to relax before Laura notices. Unfortunately, Laura’s not the type to let anything pass her by. She pauses.

Stares him down.

Derek can feel his eye twitching, but he doesn’t break, and, he doesn’t look over to where Stiles is rocking back and forth on his heels, rubbing his hands together as he peruses the menu.

Okay, so he might not be looking over at Stiles, but he is aware of every movement Stiles is making.

He doesn’t whimper when Stiles swivels on his feet and catches sight of him and Laura. He doesn’t.

He also doesn’t notice the way Stiles purposefully strides towards them and plonks himself down onto the table over. Laura, however, does.

She kicks Derek under the table. “He’s cute,” she hisses, ignoring the way he grimaces. Derek scowls at her, reaching down to rub at his shin, and not-so-subtly glances over. Stiles is the picture of innocence, but Derek knows he heard Laura, because there’s a smirk that’s tugging at the corner of his mouth, his face carefully turned away so Laura can’t see.

“Laura,” Derek warns, and she makes a face.

“Oh come on, when was the last time you got laid? Like, six months?”

Derek inhales sharply. “Laura,” he whispers angrily, as Stiles chokes, and Laura turns to eye him suspiciously, but Stiles has his phone out, and he looks like he’s laughing on the screen, so she turns back to Derek, whose face is bright red at this point. He didn’t really need Stiles to know that he’d been on a fairly lengthy dry spell before they met nearly two months ago.

A dry spell Stiles had helped him relinquish. Multiple times.

“What? It’s not like it isn’t true,” she shrugs, unconcerned, and Derek clenches his jaw.

“You’re not exactly talking quietly,” he says, still angry. She makes another face, and stabs her fork into an innocent tomato slice.

“I’m just saying,” she mutters petulantly, dropping her gaze down to her plate, and Derek feels the sudden urge to apologize. He hasn’t done anything wrong though, so he shovels a spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth to stop himself from saying anything. The mood has gone quiet and somber, and Derek’s wracking his brain for something to say that isn’t an apology, when Stiles clears his throat loudly, and Derek’s phone starts to vibrate in his pocket. He turns to him, sees Laura do the same in his periphery, and wrinkles his brow in confusion when Stiles is tapping his fingers in an irregular rhythm on the countertop, completely oblivious. Derek doesn’t pick up, because duh, Laura, but Stiles doesn’t seem fazed. In fact, his whole face brightens up when he reaches Derek’s voicemail. He settles in more comfortably in his chair, before he catches Derek’s gaze briefly, and he’s suddenly worried about the manic gleam his eyes.

He doesn’t know why, but he has the sudden feeling he should run far, far away.

“Hey,” Stiles’ voice has gone flirty, quiet enough, but still loud enough for both Derek and Laura to hear. Derek can feel his palms start to sweat. “I was just thinking about last night, and,” he pauses and laughs, low and pleased. Derek suddenly feels too-hot in his skin, and he knows he’s blushing. “So I thought I’d tell you now that you better not have plans on Saturday night, because I’m going to sit on your face.”

Derek feels a flash of lust zing through his belly, and he’s staring at Stiles in disbelief when Stiles hangs up, turns to him, and has the gall to wink. Laura, who misses the wink, looks both scandalized and impressed. She mouths ‘wow’ at Derek. “Oh my word,” she says softly, fanning herself. She glances at Stiles then back at Derek again, and a thoughtful look crosses her face.

“No,” he says, before she even opens her mouth.

“You could really use some pointers,” she argues, and before Derek can stop her, she leans over to tap Stiles on the shoulder. “Hi, I’m Laura.”

Stiles raises an eyebrow. “Stiles,” he offers, then laughs when Laura looks absolutely confused. “It’s a nickname. Don’t ask.”

“Alrighty then,” she relaxes into her seat with a smile, before kicking Derek in the shin. Again. “This idiot is my brother, Derek,” she says, not unkindly, and ignores the way Derek scowls at her. Stiles turns and directs a smile onto Derek. It’s hard to miss the way his eyes flick up and down his body as he blatantly checks Derek out, but Laura’s still talking, oblivious. “He’s a bit… Well, tragic is a bit mean, so we’ll stick with horrifically ungifted in the art of being smooth,” she was saying, and Derek wasn’t sure if he wanted to kill her, or himself.

Stiles bites a lip, looking like it’s killing himself not to laugh. “Is that so?”

Laura nods, and she pins Stiles with her most effective puppy dog expression. “I overheard you on the phone -“

“Did you?” Stiles asks, eyes wide, like it’s any news to him, and Derek falls a little bit in love with the smirk curling across his face. “I’m so sorry about that.”

Laura waves the comment away.

“No big, I was just wondering if you could give him some, I don’t know, pointers or something?” Stiles’ eyebrows flew up, and this time, he couldn’t hold back the snort. Laura sighs, put upon. “I know it sounds silly, but I just want him to be happy, you know?” Despite it all, Derek feels a rush of fondness for his older sister. “I think he’s forgotten how.”

Or maybe not.

“Didn’t you have a meeting to get to?” Derek butts in rudely, watching in satisfaction as Laura glances at her watch and swears.

“Please, at least think about it,” she begs Stiles, as she’s standing and double checking she has everything in her bag.

Stiles shrugs. “I don’t see why not? I’m free right now, so if Derek’s not busy…” he trails off, and Laura squeals in delight.

“He’s free until six!” she hollers, before bending down to hug Stiles quickly. “Thanks, cutie,” she winks, and leans over the table to kiss Derek on the cheek. “Try to remember how to flirt, grumpy puss,” she teases, but her voice is fond, and she laughs when Derek scowls at her. “Love you.”

“Yeah, you too,” he sighs, and she disappears, leaving him with the check. Again.

Damn her.

He belatedly remembers Stiles, who’s watching him with a soft look on his face. “I’m so sorry about her,” he says lamely, and is totally not expecting the way Stiles throws his head back to laugh.

“Are you kidding? That was hilarious,” he says, glancing out the window to where Laura’s disappearing into a cab, shooting them a final wave. “You’re not smooth?” he asks, before he hums thoughtfully. “I seem to recall you being pretty smooth when we met.”

Derek rolls his eyes, but Stiles can tell he’s pleased. “Laura is Laura. She has her own ideas about things,” he says, and hooks his ankle around Stiles’ under the table.

Stiles bites his lip, and smiles up at Derek slyly. “I really am free right now, if you wanna?” he waggles his eyebrows, and despite how ridiculous he looks, Derek can hear the heat underneath the words, and he nods.

Stiles beams at him.

+++

When Derek brings Stiles to dinner the next Friday, Laura’s smug for about ten seconds before they tell her they’d been dating the entire time.

She kicks Derek in the shin, and he doesn’t even say a word.

4 days ago
753,363 notes

fenchurchdent:

monetizeyourcat:

magicpottybaby:

sizvideos:

TL;DR : Watch this incredible story in video

holy fuck! so how did the penguins taste?????

this is the cutest video in the entire world. this seal is just so afraid for this dumb weird baby she thinks she’s found out in the ocean. have a bird. have another bird. no, see, eat the bird! the bird is food! why won’t this stupid baby eat. open your mouth you idiot baby i will feed you bird if it’s the last thing i do

Dogs of the fucking sea, man. 

4 days ago
104,197 notes

veganvibez:

found the best twitter 

4 days ago
21,876 notes

What do we say to the god of death?

  • Persephone: it pisses me off that people ignore the hymn to my mom that talks about how great we are together and instead believe this is against my will
  • Persephone: I mean I have you tied to the bed how would I not be into this
  • Hades: please can we not talk about your mom during sex it's really uncomfortable
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