life is so short, please don’t be afraid to love freely love generously love as much or as little as you want to—say ‘i love you’ when you hang up the phone or share a sandwich or say goodbye before long trips, or don’t say it at all—say it in gestures or smiles or hugs or unspoken looks of mutual understanding. it’s okay to wear your heart on your sleeve and it’s okay to keep it bundled up under parkas and sweaters and endless layers of emotional padding. fall in love all the time or not at all, fall in love with the person who lets you borrow their pen or asks you how your day is, fall in love with places or times of day, fall in love with words and ideas and things—love doesn’t have to be a person, love can be your favorite pair of shoes or the way your shampoo smells. love however you’re comfortable, love however makes you happy.
i’m waiting for the moment when men latch onto the selfie. suddenly, taking pictures of oneself will no longer be considered “narcissistic and vapid” and “a pathetic cry for attention” but instead, “a genius form of self promotion” and “the ultimate in diy brand building”
i feel like i can’t go anywhere anymore without people soothsaying my downfall. even the cashier at taco bell was all “the flock of crows taken to following you portent a disastrous and blah blah fucking blah,” i get it, i’m about to undergo a storm of tribulation, what frickin ever
if we’re friends!! don’t apologize about talking about ur problems or anything ok if we’re friends i love when u talk about anything i love when u tell me things i love to know about ur life okay i love YOU
So, what if Derek comes back and is all “Scott please let me be your Beta, being an Omega is the worst, I promise I will follow all your orders and be a good soldier, I swear I can follow directions please let me PLEASE.”
And Scott squints at him and say “All of my orders? Like, ALL of them?”
And Derek nods furiously.
"Okay. Go get a massage."
And Derek frowns and says “what, that’s stupid, what are you talking about,” and Scott says “YOU SAID YOU WOULD FOLLOW MY ORDERS NOW GO GET A MASSAGE” and flashes his red eyes. So Derek goes and gets a massage—probably at a kiosk place in the mall, so he doesn’t have to take off his shirt, but after going he actually feels really good and energized yet relaxed, and also proud of himself for following his Alpha’s orders.
At the next pack meeting, after telling everyone what sort of perimeter patrols they’d be doing for the rest of the week, Scott asks Derek to stay behind for a minute. “I need to know which Indian restaurant in town has the most delicious Chicken Korma. I need you to go eat at all of them over the next month and decide which one is the best.”
Derek blinks. He loves Chicken Korma. He had eaten almost all of it that one time Stiles had brought some to a stakeout, a long time ago. “I—fine. I could have it done by Saturday, if you want.”
Scott shakes his head. “No, you’ll get sick of it and then you won’t be able to rank the later places accurately. Just try a new place whenever you’re in the mood for Indian, and then rank them for me.”
"Do you just care about taste, or do you want me to include levels for service and price?"
"That’s a good idea," Scott says, nodding approvingly. "Yes, include whatever you think is important."
The next week, he’s paying the check at Cafe Tandoor when he gets a text from Scott. I need your help at work tomorrow it reads.
When Derek shows up, Scott directs him to a box full of puppies. “Someone brought in these strays last night, and they have really matted fur, so I need you to brush them. I’d do it, but I have to work on cleaning out the cages.”
Derek looks down at where the puppies are whining up at him, tumbling over each other in eagerness. “I could clean the cages, if you want.” It seems more fair for him to do the grosser job.
"No, Deaton has a whole method he likes me to use, and it would take forever for me to show you where everything is and what to do. It’s faster this way."
Derek sits down on the floor and begins carding through the smallest puppy’s fur. It squeaks in delight and nuzzles against his hand.
haha if there is a reasonably-popular book predating the movie and you get angry about plot spoilers (i don’t mean things they changed from book to movie but book-plot that is also movie-plot) then i have no goddamn sympathy for you. recognize that you had a chance to find out the ending previous to this moment, but you didn’t, and move on.
just move on with spoilers in general. they suck but do not ruin your enjoyment of anything.
moffat’s companions’ lives are all so strangely ungrounded in reality and i think it’s a good example of his very weak writing. in day of the doctor we see clara teaching - no explanation, no mention of it in the episode, and no build up to it. although obviously this was a (really lovely actually) nod to canon, it’s not the first time this has happened; amy just “became” a model in one episode and was never shown like this again (after her first job was as a kissogram). it’s impossible to imagine this happening with any of russell t davies’ companions, who all had lives incredibly minutely planned out; rose and mickey found their path to success obstructed by class boundaries and working manually, donna worked a succesion of uninspiring office jobs and even well off martha was shown physically working very hard to achieve her medical degree.
this ability to skip through professions as well as change locations and dump family just grounds the idea that moffat’s companions are strange, non-human, undeveloped creatures. their lives, trials and tribulations don’t matter outside of the doctor, and it’s like they’re a succession of barbie dolls; “i can be a model! i can be a teacher! i can be an archaeologist!” with an awful lot of pluck, a cheeky grin, and no substance whatsoever