But women can never be careful enough, can we? If we take naked pictures of ourselves, we’re asking for it. If someone can manage to hack into our accounts, we’re asking for it. If we’re not wearing anti-rape nail polish, we’re asking for it. If we don’t take self-defence classes, we’re asking for it. If we get drunk, we’re asking for it. If our skirts are too short, we’re asking for it. If we pass out at a party, we’re asking for it. If we are not hyper-vigilant every single fucking second of every single fucking day, we are asking for it. Even when we are hyper-vigilant, we’re still asking for it. The fact that we exist is asking for it.
This is what rape culture looks like.
This is what misogyny looks like." -from What Happened to Jennifer Lawrence Was Sexual Assault (via catagator)
Do you ever think the universe is trying to tell you something? But, with like, a lot of sarcasm, sass, and cruel humor?
Me: Why couldn't it be longer
Me: What am I supposed to read now
*glances at pile of unread books*
Me: Don't look at me like that
Anonymous said: The One Where Joey Tells Rachel??? Maybe the Monica/Chandler storyline :)
“You’ll never guess who I met today,” Erica exclaims as she takes a seat on the last empty cushion on the couch, balancing her coffee mug and muffin precariously in her hands until she sets them down on the table.
“Who?” Derek asks, expecting it to be some famous person or something. Erica has a knack for running into celebrities when they’re trying to be inconspicuous.
“Stiles’ soulmate,” she gushes.
Derek feels Stiles freeze where he’s leaning against him and his arm that had been around Stiles’ shoulders slackens in shock.
“Excuse me?” Derek’s voice must sound strained because Stiles leans into him just a little more, reaching up to tangle his fingers with the hand Derek has resting on his shoulder.
“What are you talking about?” Stiles snorts, rolling his eyes exasperatedly and Erica rolls her eyes right back.
“Stiles, I’m telling you, this guy is your soulmate,” she insists. “His name is Scott, he was one of my massage clients and I swear the entire hour it felt like I was talking to you.”
Anonymous said: Steter: fighting about something silly then making up
I fucking love you omg omg omg
- - -
When they fight, the Pack knows that it isn’t serious unless they aren’t talking to one another. Yelling is pretty normal. Arguing is fairly status quo. It’s when they shut one another out that they know, for certain, something is wrong.
Stiles has been giving Peter the cold shoulder for four days. Everyone is slowly losing their minds (not literally, though that happened once, and it isn’t something they want to happen again). Because when Stiles isn’t there to keep Peter occupied, Peter keeps himself busy with the rest of them— and while Peter isn’t completely psychopathic anymore, much more pre-fire than anything, he’s still a raging dick more often than not.
They wonder how Stiles can put up with him.
Scott is the one who finally corners Stiles in the kitchen of the loft, sighing loudly as Stiles digs around in the fridge. ”Whatever happened, you guys should talk about it.”
"Keep your cute little button nose out of it, Scott." Stiles mumbles, grabbing a beer in the back— they only keep the light stuff around for him and Lydia and Allison, have been doing it since they’d all turned twenty-one, beer isn’t strong enough to get the rest of them even remotely buzzed— and Scott frowns at him. "It’s a non-issue."
"It seems like an issue." Scott says, and he watches Stiles carefully as his friend pops the cap off of his bottle on the edge of the counter.
"You know where the bottle opener is, stop fucking up my counters!" Derek calls from the living room; Pack bonding is still definitely a thing, even after college has come and gone.
"Love you too, sweetie." Stiles says with a laugh, taking a pull of his beer with a relieved little sound.
Scott draws closer, brow furrowing. ”You want to talk about it?”
"No," Stiles replies.
Stiles gives him a dry look, taking another drought before he leaned against the fridge door, picking idly at the label on the tinted glass. ”It’s stupid.”
Scott grins. ”Isn’t it always stupid?”
Sighing, Stiles nods, shuffling about a bit. ”You know that recipe book I found? The one that me and dad found the other week?”
"Your mom’s old one?"
Scott nods. ”What about it?”
"Well, I— I made this whole meal after work Friday night and—"
"Is that seriously what this has been about?” Peter asks from the entryway to the kitchen, brows furrowed. Stiles scowls at him, and Scott pinches the bridge of his nose.
"You ordered a pizza.”
"You like pizza,” Peter snaps, taking slow steps into the kitchen— Scott knows that the whole Pack is listening, knows that he would be too, but that doesn’t mean he wants to be in the middle of it. ”Or did I wake up in some alternate reality where that fact is no longer true?”
"I made dinner," Stiles retorts, bottle slamming down on the counter top, though not with enough force to break it; Scott starts inching for the exit. "From what I recall, you really enjoy it when I cook for you. Unless in my old age I’m somehow wrong— oh, wait, I forgot. I’m not the old man in this relationship.”
"I do like it when you cook." Peter crosses his arms; there is maybe three feet of space between them, and neither is willing to bridge the gap yet. Scott thinks someone should push them together because then they’d be too busy making out to fight.
"Then why order pizza and curl up on the couch to watch movies when there was a perfectly good, homemade— from scratch, Peter, I made from scratch— meal in the oven?”
"Because I was trying to do something nice for you, and you like eating pizza and watching movies all night.”
"And I was trying to do something nice for you by making you dinner!”
Peter’s mouth snaps shut, and his lips purse slightly as he regards Stiles. It doesn’t take long, and Stiles gets a similar expression on his face. Scott likes to call it their “we’re fucking stupid” faces. Because, more often than not, they’re both incredibly stupid. Stupidest smart people he’s ever known.
"I thought you’d like it—"
"I thought you would like it,” Peter cuts him off softly. ”And I’m sorry I didn’t show my appreciation for what you did more.”
Stiles fidgets. ”It’s okay.”
Peter’s hand twitches at his side, like he wants to reach out to him, but he doesn’t. Scott is tempted to hit him over the head. Lydia is the one that breaks the stalemate.
"Are you two finished, yet?" She asks, brushing by, over towards the fridge to pull out a vitamin water. "There’s a movie I’d really like to finish on in the living room, and the wolves have it paused because they like to listen to you both make asses of yourselves."
Stiles blushes, but rolls his eyes, calling out to the rest of their Pack. ”Mind your own business!”
"Then take it out of my loft!" Derek shoots back.
Stiles laughs and Peter does too. Scott doesn’t get to see them kiss and make up because Lydia pulls him away as their leaning in to one another, but he does hear it. He counts it as evidence enough.
"Cold War finally over?" Isaac asks from where he’s sitting on the floor at Allison’s feet, her fingers brushing through his hair.
Scott nods, slumping down in his own chair with a huff. ”Yeah. Finally.”
"Just as long as they don’t try and have sex on the counter again," Derek mutters under his breath.
They all hear Peter laugh from the kitchen.
Teen Wolf AU - Sterek AU
SOMEONE WITE A FREAKING FICLET OR FIC OR WHATEVER YOU’D LIKE BUT SOMEONE WRITE /SOMETHING/ OR ELSE MY LIFE WILL BE INCOMPLETE
Sterek Week || Sunday: Anything you want
Stiles & Derek + worrying about their families
"How much," Stiles asks, "are we talking here? Because I know your family, dude. And it’ll be kind of awkward after."
"My family thinks you’re some sort of fucking gift to the world," Derek seethes, like he’s jealous, "they’ll probably be pissed at me when we break it off, so don’t worry about that. Five hundred bucks."
"A thousand," Stiles says, because screw ethics. Also, the Hale family is loaded. Derek can deal.