Because Heather said "I swear to god, the reason Mike Stamford didn’t go to John’s wedding is because he was fucking pissed that John did not marry Sherlock" and I couldn’t not.
every year after you turn 17 you get further away from being the age of the dancing queen and that’s my least favorite thing about growing up
ah but when you turn 34 you’re two dancing queens and thus having twice the time of your life. and at 51 you become the dancing triumvirate and three golden crowns are forged in your honor
lots to look forward to
i accidentally messed up my life how do i start a new account
girls who pretend to act stupid because they think it’s cute need to be slapped in the face with a brick
girls who pretend to act stupid because they think it’s cute need to be taught that their thoughts and opinions matter. so many girls are taught that being smart and capable is threatening to boys and will scare them away. please don’t hit these girls with bricks thanks
THIS IS MY FAVORITE TWITTER INTERACTION OF ALL TIME
1977, Gryffindor common room. Snapped by one James Potter, aka Nosey Asshole.
Myers Briggs by Mythical Creatures
ENTP: Sea Serpent
actors who completely understand the characters they play and defend them to dumbass interviewers deserve the world and have my heart tbh.
Things people with Social Anxiety do
•go to the bathroom to escape
•feel very uncomfortable without a phone or some other crutch
•dwell on a small awkward moment for much longer than necessary
•never go to any social event without a person that makes you feel comfortable
•follow said person way too much
•worry about the person beginning to find you obnoxious
•faking an illness to get out of a social event
•Dont buy something necessary because the cashier is intimidating.
wordswrittenovercoffee asked: When you have time: (616): Your brother just walked into my room, pissed drunk and butt naked, got into my bed and fell asleep. In knowing I am gay, you have one hour to deal with him before I do.
+ (602): I’m missing my left shoe, and there’s a note on my foot (in my handwriting) that says “HAHA BITCH” Any explanation for this? (anon request)
Derek says, “It’s not so bad,” and Laura makes a muffled noise that sounds suspiciously like she’s trying to tamp down on laughter.
“Are you referring to living with two juniors, or are you referring to living with two juniors one of whom is the guy you’ve been massively, embarrassingly crushing on since high school?” she asks, and Derek can picture her lifted brow.
“I—it’s fine,” he insists, ignores her teasing, because it’s all she’s been doing since Derek moved in with Scott and Stiles. Scott and Stiles, who introduce each other as brothers to everyone, who are awfully overzealous, and loud, and obnoxious; who talked Derek into living with them because they found this great apartment that’s too expensive between the two of them. Derek’s the fool who couldn’t say no; who couldn’t say no to Stiles when he said, “Derek, please. Do it for me?”
He’s hopeless. And a moron.
And Laura is laughing at him, she enjoys this more than is appropriate, but that’s always been the case with her. Derek sighs, resigned.
“Okay, come on, baby bro, lay it on me,” she offers once she stops laughing; Derek can hear her inhale deeply to calm herself down. “You know I’m here to listen.”
Derek pinches the bridge of his nose. “It’s not so bad,” he tries again, because he can’t admit that it’s driving him crazy. It’s not even the living with two juniors, it’s not the noisy video game nights, or the spontaneous showers at three-thirty in the morning; it’s living with Stiles and being around him when he’s—domestic. Homey. It’s getting to see Stiles walking around only in boxers, or seeing him sleep-ruffled and bleary-eyed with the most adorable and sexy bed head Derek’s ever seen; it’s coming home to find the apartment smelling like his favourite casserole, because Stiles made dinner, smiles at Derek when he sees him standing in the doorway; it’s Stiles flopping down next to Derek on the couch on lazy Sundays with a jar of Nutella in one hand and two spoons in the other. It’s walking past Stiles’ room at night sometimes, on the way to the bathroom, hearing him moan and gasp, when Derek knows he’s alone in there.
It’s bad. It’s terrible. Derek’s gonna die.