You blew it. All for a free scoop of rum raisin. Was it worth is, Ron? Was it?
BLESS THIS FUCKING CHILD OMG
Informal infographic depicting evolution
this is the happiest thing i’ve ever seen
Ways to wear your tee
Stiles. His name is Stiles, he’s seventeen, and these are his friends.
Or so they’ve told him.
Stiles (if that is indeed his name) doubts that he knows anyone who’d want to lie to him in his muddled state. He’s just a normal teenager who hit his head after falling out of a tree and ended up with messed-up memories.
Again. That’s what they’ve told him.
There’s faint memories there, stirring as visitors crowd his bedside. He looks at the girl with strawberry blonde hair spilling over her shoulders, and thinks scribbled notes never delivered and dancing and screaming and red red lipstick. He looks at the man with the Sheriff’s uniform hanging off him, and thinks curly fries and I’m sorry and nothing bad will ever happen to you as long as I’m around.
He looks at the dark-haired guy with the uneven jawline sitting on the empty hospital bed beside him and thinks roadtrips and sandpits and I will give my life for you. He thinks god I love you so much.
Stiles sits up a little straighter and leans over to tap the guy’s kneecap. The guy - Scott, Stiles thinks he said his name was, and it rolls comfortably in his hazed mind - gives a jerk and instantly covers Stiles’ hand with his own, grasping at his fingers.
"Stiles? You remember anything new?" Scott asks, his voice wavering slightly. Stiles doesn’t remember much, but he is certain he remembers that voice.
"You and me, we were…" Stiles licks his lips, his throat suddenly feeling rather dry. "We were dating, right?"
There’s a moment where everything seems to freeze, where Scott stares at Stiles like he’s gone mad and Stiles can almost hear everyone’s jaw dropping.
"…no," Scott finally manages, but he doesn’t take his hand away from Stiles’. If anything, he only grips it tighter. "We’re not dating, we’re just best friends. We always have been."
Stiles wants to glance at the others for confirmation, but he can already sense it in the steadiness of Scott’s voice. He doesn’t need to turn to them for that when the truth is right here before them.
"Ah well, can’t blame a guy for trying!" Stiles manages a grin as he attempts to turn his failed observation into a joke, pulling his hand away from Scott’s warm and familiar fingers. "So when do I get my memories back? Don’t want to go around thinking I was dating all of you, right?"
The others smile at that, but all Stiles cares about is Scott’s nervous laugh and the way he’s resolutely avoiding Stiles’ eyes.
Tiger gets a bad baby tooth removed
When a tiger’s first response to having a tooth yanked is not a roar, snarl or swipe with claws, but a test nibble to check that its mouth works as well as it suddenly feels, it speaks volumes about how much the bad tooth* must have hurt.
*You can see, briefly, that it’s black and nasty on the inner side. Yuck.
I’m just awed by the amount of trust in this gif. That tiger totally trusts that the human is going to help with that scary metal object on an already painful area and the human totally trusts that the tiger is just test nibbling and not chomping down on his arm. I flinch when a house cat comes at me too fast and these two don’t even hesitate to trust each other.
I want twenty.