thirteensfavoritetoy:

Yet another scene we likely won’t get in the next two specials…

13 does the psychic mindlink thing as a way to tell Yaz “everything”. Once it’s over, Yaz looks stunned for a few moments, but then regains her composure, looks intently at 13, and asks her a question:

“Why did you never tell me that before?”

Beat

“Tell you what?” 13 asks.

Beat

“Your name.”

And we all fucking lose it.

minecraftenthusiast:

dan is not 13s companion. dan is yaz’ companion and he knows 13 as yaz’ weird girlfriend whose personal life overflowed into his

irl-selkie5023:

A lot of people seem to be struggling to understand why so many others are so against Cassie and her behaviour this season but I’m pretty sure it’s because a lot of us have been victims of a toxic asf friend. Ones who try to justify shitty behaviour because of trauma, who refuse to even consider themselves the bad guy because of things they have unfortunately suffered from in the past. Ones who are there for you in the moment but drop you or betray your trust when something “better” comes along. The ones who distinctly know what the fuck they are doing but cry wolf as soon as you confront them.

Trauma responses form differently in people, I myself suffer from trauma. But I do not and will never use it as an excuse for shitty behaviour. Especially if said behaviour crosses the line the way Cassie did.

And personally, I think a lot of people are just tired of everyone making excuses for those toxic asf individuals. I know I certainly am.

A little exercise just to further elaborate my point;

Imagine Cassie behaving like this, as a grown ass woman. Would people still be empathising with her then? Regardless of whether you know about what she has dealt with in the past? And would you allow her past to excuse her actions in that context?

Food for thought.

lesbianwives:

there are so many different kinds of summer. there are bookstore summers, where you spend your time paging through hundreds of novles, wrapped in the cool, comforting gloom between shelves

there are ocean summers, when your shoulders are chronically sunburned and your hair grows soft from saltwater and every dream you have begins with you turning into a sea siren

there are urban summers, the ones that ring out with basketballs bouncing on cracked courts and taste like popsicles from an ice cream truck, heat trembling up from the concrete and flushing your cheeks to a sharp pink

there are road trip summers, where you meet a girl at a rest stop in the middle of nowhere and she draws you a map of her own, the nights drenched with stars and cicadas, your hands smelling of gasoline

there are falling-in-love-for-the-second-time summers, when you’re different than you were the first time, when you know who you are and what you want, when she does not scatter your thoughts into a giddy swirl but grounds you to earth, making you feel more deeply and more calmly than you ever thought you could

 there are lightning summers, the ones that take your breath away; electric with love, thunderous with it