i don't know why i do these things to myself

peterstiles auStiles is a ghost and Peter is the only one who can see and hear him, and he’s (kind of) being held hostage in Peter’s condo while they try and figure out how the hell he died in the first place.


This wasn’t what Stiles was used to. He was used to noise – the soft and steady buzzing of old appliances, the hum of a television in the background, the rhythmic, gentle tapping of his foot or a pen or his fingertips. Just noise. Any kind of noise. Because he’d never really enjoyed the quiet. It was deafening, heavy, and full of deep thoughts and innermost fears and it made him feel entirely alone. Noise kept him company. It made him feel safe.

“Could you read it out loud?”

The question seemed to catch Peter off guard, as he set the book down and turned to look up at him, his face full of a soft but gentle confusion, “What?”

“The book – or, the play, rather. Could you read it out loud?”

There was another sigh and Peter tried to seem annoyed but Stiles could see the ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “I’m not going to start from the beginning; I’m already half-way through.”

Stiles just shrugged, pushing himself off of the counter and sitting down on top of the table, his legs dangling over the edge so dangerously close to Peter’s own, and he couldn’t help but wonder if Peter would be able to feel him, too, “That’s fine. I’ve read it before. Plus, I’ve seen the Lion King and Strange Brew like, a hundred times.” (x)

I am not someone who cries frequently over my own emotional shit, as I am an emotional bottler and only tend to cry when I have reached the very end of my rope. (Knowing I’m about to move has led to smaller little cloudbursts of tearing up, but I don’t wanna talk about it.) 

However. You put 50/50 in front of my face and a) I can’t not watch it, and b) I can’t not bawl in the scenes just before he goes into his surgery. When he ever looks at his dad to say he loves him very much? When he worries about not waking up after the surgery? I. LOSE. MY. SHIT. I am sitting here watching this wondering why I don’t change the channel and crying and I CAN’T STOP.

Also apparently Sarah Dessen novels make me cry? Just Listen, which might be my favorite of hers, had me snuffling back some very embarrassing tears last night, not just when it got to a PIVOTAL SISTER MOMENT (which is like my personal kryptonite) but when Annabel goes into a diner and walks past two people who are clearly Macy and Wes from The Truth About Forever. I was like, THEIR LOVE LIVES. (Of course it does, this is Sarah Dessen. Who incidentally I want to reread every book in order to better appreciate these little Easter eggs of hers. Because I am a grown ass woman and teenage romances in which a wounded girl (bonus if she has an unusual name!) finds and heals her own emotional baggage while also falling in love with a wounded/loner/offbeat (mostly) emotionally stable dude with unique passions that ignite her own are my jam.)

The semester doesn’t technically start until next week, but Wednesday and Thursday of this week I’m taking a class that is only those two days for one credit. Two eight-hour days of ridiculously boring grass dissections, but one credit for a semester’s worth of work. To say I’m dreading it would be an understatement, but at least 1) A friend is taking it with me, and 2) I had the professor last term, and he’s pretty awesome.


Grass dissections.



Sixteen hours.

Of grass dissections.

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I have yet to see the season 7 finale of Criminal Minds.

Partly because I didn’t want to have to wait forever for season 8, and partly because I just don’t watch the episodes in order anyway. 

POINT BEING: I have now found it and am watching it online.

I shall be living blogging the entire time so brace yourselves. 

Btw not even a minute into it and it’s already so adorable.

God help me.