Tell Him

Tell him. Go on, tell him that you no longer desire to be

a punching bag for his insecurities, a reinforcement

of his manhood. Tell him that you will eat his soul

if he dares lay his hands on you once more and you

will spit it back on the ground it came from. He is not

the God you pray to at church so why make him the

God you kneel to at midnight if he shows you no mercy?

They say the eyes are the window to the soul, so my darling

why have you let him paint your pupils with sorrow when you

know deep down that you carry fire inside of you. Not the

type of fire that burns bones into ashes but the type of fire

that sets a dark room alight. You are not the daughter of

Poseidon so stop letting him fill your eyes with water, you’ve

got angels wanting to guard them and they never really liked

the sea…

The next time he calls you fat, tell him that you ate so much

love as a child so that in case you mistakenly managed to swallow

a word of hate one day your body would reject it. The next time he

calls you ugly, tell him that’s the exact reason why the devil decided

to inhabit him and not you. The next time he tells you that you’ve

offended him, laugh. Laugh like all your bones are funny bones

and yell “FUCK YOU” then turn around and dance your way out of

that room. Let him stare at your body with anger in his eyes and

regret in his belly, your body which he so adored and explored in

private but abhorred and ignored in public, girl you need to apologise

to God because you just let that little boy disrespect one of His
favourite paintings.

He is no man, I know. My mother taught me that men are meant to

support the woman by their side and my father told me that men

have to be willing to sacrifice… That boy is not ready to sacrifice

his sense of entitlement for your smile.

My darling, you are red rose petals on white linen sheets, an image

of passion, so shine, like your soul is a constellation of stars.

—  BT, Tell Him
9
Hᴀᴘᴘʏ Bɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ Tᴏ Oᴜʀ Wᴏɴᴅᴇʀғᴜʟ Gᴏʟᴅᴇɴ Mᴀᴋɴᴀᴇ, Jᴜɴɢᴋᴏᴏᴋɪᴇ! Tʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ғᴏʀ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇsᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ʙᴇ. Yᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴍᴇ sᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴜᴅ ᴛᴏ sᴛᴀɴ sᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ᴀs ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀғᴜʟ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜ <3 
Brett Talbot Imagine- Finally A Cute Friend

You waited for your brother and Stiles to pick you up from school. You went to the only private school in Beacon Hills and were glad that you didn’t have to go to school with your brother but wished you didn’t have to wear a uniform.
This was your first year at the school, you were a freshman and 15 years old. Your brother, Scott was 17 and went to Beacon Hills High.
Stiles’ jeep pulled up in front of you and you could see that there was an extra person in the back seat. You froze for a second trying to think of who it was but you didn’t recognize him.
You focused back on reality when Stiles banged on the outside of his door with his arm slung out the window.
“Come on! Get in the car.”
You scuttled around to the other side of the car and hopped in. The guy inside it was fast asleep with dark sunglasses on to hide that exact fact. You brushed it off and greeted Stiles, he was like your other brother.
“Hey Stiles, nice to see you too!” You ruffled up his hair before he started driving. You could here his sarcastic laugh. Scott laughed at you, you fought with Stiles more than your own brother.
“Scott is this kid one of your new friends?” Referencing the curly haired brunette still in his lacrosse jersey next to you.
“Uh yeah, why?” He glanced back slightly to show his questioning face.
“Oh nothing, I’m just glad you finally made friends with someone cute!” Stiles raised one hand in a motion meant to signify ‘I’m right here!’
“Instead of bringing home more weird friends like Stiles,” you laughed and Stiles mimicked what you had just said in the voice he always used to make fun of you.
“Ok well no matter how much you think he’s cute you need to leave him alone…especially since he’s gonna stay in your room…” Your eyes shot up.
“WHAT?!? Why can’t he stay in your room?”
“Uh cause Kira’s coming over around 4…”
“Ew!” You shoved his shoulder from behind his chair.
“Ugh fine. I just have to do homework so I’ll keep an eye on him. When should he wake up.?”
“I don’t know Deacon didn’t specify,” Scott looked over to Stiles looking like they probably should have asked about that.
~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~

The boys name was Brett, and he was now situated on you bed surrounded by shades of purple and blue and a stuffed animal here and there. So far so good, it was already 4:30, 2 hours since you had gotten him into your room. He hadn’t made a peep and you were almost done with your homework.
Finishing up history you turned off your laptop and walked over to the occupied bed. Brett had accumulated some sweat on his forehead and around his upper chest. Grabbing a washcloth from the bathroom you returned to the bed side.
Looking down on the boy you were able to admire his features, strong jawline, short curls, and he was almost too tall to fit on your bed. You sat next to him and patted the towel across his head and down his chest and gently over where an incision had been made. You had gotten rid of the sweat and were hanging the towel on the end of the bed frame to let it dry when Brett sat up slowly, clutching his abdomen. He didn’t seem overly terrified or alert, just dazed, his eyes fluttering and his muscles flexing as he stretched. You were admiring him now.
“Uh how are you feeling?”
His eyes flickered around the room before he answered with an “Ok.”
He sat there looking around the room and at you for a solid 5 minutes before he spoke.
“Ok I’m not usually like this when I sleep with someone but what’s your name again?”
You blushed lightly and smiled at your feet. “Uh we didn’t have sex.”
“Oh, damn” he had a partially cocky look on his face as he checked you out, now knowing that he hasn’t attained you yet. You hoes to take what he said as a compliment.
“Haha, um yeah my brother’s Scott McCall. He put you in my room.”
“It’s not like a big brother to put a teenage boy in their sisters room. Don’t they usually beat up guys they find in their sister’s room?”
He had stood up now and was walking towards you ever so slowly. His smirk still plastered to his face.
“Um right. I’m 15 did I mention that?” You had hoped that would put him off but it only seemed to encourage him.
“I don’t turn 18 for another 5 months.”
I think if I had done something to show him or tell him that I didn’t want him to touch me he would have stopped but my mouth was sealed as my chest rose and fell at a ragged pace. His hand was skimming over your cheek and pushing hair from your face.
You didn’t know if his skin was still sore from where he had been cut so that left your hand to hang at your sides. He didn’t have a shirt in so you couldn’t hold that and you didn’t want to give him access to your body if you lifted your arms to his neck. He was nudging your neck with his nose, his warm breath raising goosebumps. He looked back up at your eyes, his eyes were glowing a fierce yellow that made you gasp. He chuckled lightly.
“I love freshman, I get to teach them how to do everything.”
His hands pulled yours to his chest and he linked one of his fingers in a belt loop of you jeans. He jaw sharpened as he leaned down towards your face. He had you locked in, even if you could leave you weren’t sure you wanted to. Just when your lips were about to meet Brett’s, Scott came busting through your door.
“I knew I heard something.”
Brett looked back to you “I think he wishes he hadn’t put me in your room.”

what if there was a beauty and the beast story about a gorgeous woman with mental health disorders where she’s both the beauty and the beast and in the end she learns to love herself

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