everyone fucking wonders why we’re all kinky mutherfuckers who confuse pain and anguish with eroticism


(Source: neptunepirate)


Since it doesn’t look like anyone’s getting arrested today what do you say we put sex back on the table?

Sterek AU: Stiles is excited to finally get to do some real undercover work. All he has to do is seduce a man into agreeing to pay to have sex with him. Shouldn’t be too hard… right?

Derek is part of an ongoing investigation into a human trafficking ring. Tonight he has the fun job of rounding up sex workers to see if any of them have any information on their bosses. 

This is what happens when people don’t read their inter-agency memos. Chaos. 

Based on this post


Teen Wolf AU: Autocorrect always fucks things up. Except when it doesn’t. based on this

Happy birthday Jessy!!! I love you. Always stay rad! 

(Source: hellasterek)

Person: what are you doing?

Me: not reading the work of a stranger on the internet interpreting the relationship between the protagonists of an established media series by thrusting them into unrealistic situations in which they for some unknown reason have intense gay sex that's for certain




I see your shifting gaze, that disgusted glance. I know you’re questioning my parenting from across the elementary school assembly.

Let me tell you a little story about the kindergarten student with bright purple hair, my little Raven Marie…

A month before school started she decided to play hair stylist with the craft scissors, and to save what was left I had to opt for a pixie cut. She was absolutely devastated. It was about three hours before she stopped her harsh sobbing and hiccups.


She has thought that the length of a girls hair was what made her “girly”. I know I’ve personally had many hairstyles around her before, including a purple mohawk, which many people criticized as not being “girly” enough. Media, other children, other parents, and society made it worse. She would randomly burst in tears while out in public for the first week of her new style, screaming that she looked like a boy. That everyone would think she’s a boy.

At one point she took off her bow in her hair, threw it at a cashier and screamed, “I DON’T NEED THIS BOW TO TELL YOU THAT I’M NOT A BOY, BECAUSE I’M NOT”

Proudly stomping away in her blue jean overalls, head held high.

Once we edged closer to the first day of school she kept asking questions like, “Do you think the other kids will like me? Do you think they’ll be my friend? Will they think I’m a boy? Will they pick on me because I have boy hair?”

So I went to the grocery store, bought some dye, and spent the whole night transforming my bright blonde little girl into a plum punk rock fairy. I then assured her that if any of the kids didn’t like her, they were just jealous.

As for you, mothers and teachers with the wandering eyes filled with disgust and judgement, I’m in the business of raising a free spirit.

Here’s to you, Raven Marie. I love you.


I want that hair