Oct 3, 2014
B
boobs lmao ✌
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B
boobs lmao ✌
Saw your what is this from tag on the scrubs crossover and the show is called Cougar Town and is amazing. I don't know if it's on Netflix right now but if not I think it's usually on HBO On Demand and is almost always available on Amazon Prime.
OH cougar town! yeah i thought that for a millisecond bc i know the actress who plays jordan was on it but then i was like wait im psure the rest of them arent so? but yo thanks a bunch for telling me :D
So I'm definitely panromantic and I can enjoy making out but I don't like sex. At all. At least with others. Like I'm fine on my own but I don't experience arousal with other people or enjoy anything other than kissing and even that's a bit much sometimes. I can get off alone and I've even been attracted to one or two people I had really strong emotional bonds with but I didn't want to sleep with them ever. Is that a grey area or asexuality or something else all together? (Sorry I'm uninformed.)
Please take a look at our FAQ, which might be able to help you to decide if you're asexual. Asexuality is simply about not experiencing sexual attraction. It has nothing to do with whether or not you kiss, have sex, masturbate, experience arousal, etc. If you have been sexually attracted to people after strong emotional bonds, it's possible you might be demisexual. You could check that out, too. :)
-Becca/Southpaw
DOCTOR WHO TONIGHT. MERRY CHRISTMAS AND ENJOY YOUR TEARS.
YOU TOO
I PLAN TO KNIT A SWEATER WITH MINE TO KEEP ME WARM IN THE UPCOMING MONTHS
Merry Christmas, itsonlyforever-notlongatall!
Hope my little ficlet will give you a little extra Christmas cheer <3
*****
“I’m going to do it this year,” Stiles declares as he chews his bright red and white festive straw.
Lydia side eyes him, lips pinched. “That’s what you said last year.” She pauses, idly stirring her own straw. “And the year before that.”
Stiles glares. “You’re supposed to be supportive, Lydia.”
Lydia tilts her head to the side, mock thoughtful. “Am I?”
“Yes!” Stiles seethes as he slams his drink down on the round, decorative table.
Lydia sighs, heavily put upon. “Honestly, Stiles. We do this every year. You stare at tall, dark, and broody from afar at the our company Christmas party, declare you’re going to finally make a move, and then chicken out and drink so much you forget your own name.”
Stiles levels a sharp gaze on her. “No I don’t.”
“Really?” Lydia counters. “So it wasn’t you who was crying in the backseat of my car last year? It wasn’t you who puked all over my leather seats?”
“Dude, I said I was sorry.”
Lydia rolls her eyes. “Leather seats, Stiles. A lady never forgets when a man ruins her leather seats.”
Stiles crosses his arms and sinks sulkily into his seat, face pinched and pissed. “I hate my life.”
“Quit pouting, Stiles. It’s unbecoming and annoying,” Lydia say primly, easing off her seat. “Now, dance with me.”
“Fine,” he snaps, taking Lydia’s hand and leading her to the dance floor.
The lights are dim and the song is slow. Lydia drapes her arms over Stiles shoulders as she leads him in the easy, repetitive dance. Stiles goes with the flow, eyes fixed past Lydia’s head at one Derek Hale, brother of Laura Hale, their company’s CEO.
“You’re staring again,” Lydia notes, pinching Stiles on the meat of his arm.
“Ouch, what the hell, Lydia!”
“Your pining is making me thirsty. Go get me a drink,” she orders, narrowing her eyes. “Now.”
“Alright, Jesus!” Stiles replies as he rubs absently at his throbbing arm, scowling at her.
She shoos him off the dance floor and he skulks over to the beverage table. He’s quick to pour a glass of punch, adding three ice cubes—just how Lydia likes it—and then whirls around without pause.
He collides with a body and the fruit punch goes flying—sloshing over said body.
It’s Derek Hale.
Stiles gapes.
Derek glares.
“Oh, shit.” Stiles’ eyes fall to Derek’s stained white shirt and he winces. “At least you look more festive?” He offers with a nervous smile, wiggling his eyebrows.
Derek’s frown intensifies and well, so much for first impressions. His jaw clicks as his thick eyebrows pinch together and holy hell, he looks constipated. “Come with me,” he orders, seizing Stiles by his arm and forcibly dragging him away from the beverage table.
“Look, man! I’m really sorry about the shirt but that’s no reason to beat me up at a Christmas party,” Stiles says as he jerks his arm out of Derek’s grip. “That’s just not within the Christmas spirit.”
Derek rounds on him. “I’m not going to beat you up,” he grounds out.
“Yeah, your growling really isn’t convincing me,” Stiles replies dryly.
Derek continues to glare at him with that pinched, constipated look of his.
Stiles glares back, crossing his arms.
A feminine cough interrupts their staring contest. They both look to their right and spot Lydia.
“Oh hey, Lydia,” Stiles greets. He gestures to Derek. “Your drink is currently staining Mr. Hale’s dress shirt.”
Lydia just smiles and points upwards. “Mistletoe,” she all but sing-songs, shifting he viper-like gaze onto Derek. “Wouldn’t want to ruin the Christmas spirit by refusing, now would we Mr. Hale?”
Stiles looks up, mouth hanging open. He looks back at Derek, who’s gone suspiciously red in the face. From anger or embarrassment, Stiles not too sure.
“You don’t have to,” he says quickly. “Lydia’s just being stupid. I mean, who wants to kiss me, right?”
Derek’s face darkens at that, he takes one step forward, fists his hand into Stiles’ shirt, and kisses him.
It’s kinda painful, sloppy, and over too swiftly.
“Drinks,” he says. “Tuesday night.”
“What?”
“I’m asking you out to drinks, you idiot,” Derek repeats, looking entirely too irritated for someone asking out another person.
“Is this a joke?”
“No, it’s…,” Derek sighs, that pinched look back on his face. “It’s not a joke.”
Lydia steps forward, pats Stiles on the chest and smiles at Derek. “He’ll be there.”
Turns out, Stiles wasn’t the only one staring all those lonely years. Also, Derek is an excellent date.
ALAURA STOP YOU'RE GIVING ME SOUL EATER FEELS
BUT I'M SUFFERING SOUL EATER FEELS RIGHT NOW AND I NEED LOTS OF SOUL AND MAKA A;LDJF;SLJF I'M CRY