#The Sheriff looks so sad and lost in the extended promo and I just have this image of him going home after he leaves Stiles and the house is all quite and dark and he flips on all the lights but it doesn’t make it any better #All of Stiles’ things are just laying around and he decides to just go to bed but when he does he walks past Stiles’ room and the bed is unmade from where he crawled out of it and his homework is on his desk and the clothes he wore the day before are still laying in the middle of the floor #And so he just ends up driving to the police station to try and get some sleep in his office because he can’t stand to be in the house because it feels even more empty than when Claudia died.
I know I’ve told this story before, but my abusive ex refused to let me take birth control. I was on the pill until he found them in my purse.
I went to the Student Health Center—they were completely unhelpful, choosing to lecture me about the importance of safe sex (recommending condoms) instead of actually listening to my problem.
Then I went to Planned Parenthood. The Nurse Practitioner took one look at my fading bruises and stopped the exam. She called in the doctor. The doctor came in and simply asked me: “Are you ready to leave him?” When I denied that I was being abused, she didn’t argue with me. She just asked me what I needed. I said I need a birth control method that my boyfriend couldn’t detect. She recommended a few options and we decided on Depo.
When I told her that my boyfriend read my emails and listened to my phone messages and was known to follow me, she suggested to do the Depo injections at off hours when the clinic was normally closed. She made a note in my chart and instructed the front desk never to leave messages for me—instead, she programmed her personal cell phone number into my phone under the name “Nora”. She told me she would call me to schedule my appointments; she wouldn’t leave a message, but I should call her back when I was able to.
And that was it. No judgment. No lecture. She walked me to the door and told me to call her day or night if I needed anything. That she lived 5 blocks from campus and would come get me. That I wasn’t alone. That she just wanted me to be safe.
I never called her to come to my rescue. But I have no doubt that she would have come if I had called. She kept me on Depo for a year, giving me those monthly injections in secret, helping me prevent a desperately unwanted pregnancy.
I cannot thank Planned Parenthood enough for the work they do.
You can see the difference in how these characters were brought up clearly from the younger years. Harry if you remember has to be prompted to tell his name, most likely because the Dursley’s hated to acknowledge he is important. Ron, as an afterthought tells his name as though he always gets a head of himself and must be reminded all the time to tell others who he is. While Hermione recites her name as though she has walked up to so many kids trying to make friends, because her parents told her the easiest way to make friends is to introduce yourself. And finally Draco leads with his family name because it shows his pure blood status and sets him above the rest; it is what makes him important and special, and his last name is the only thing that matters. Yet in the end war does not care what your name is, it hurts without discrimination, and that is what the second gifs display all to well.