brenda no stop


The year that Tiffany Aching danced with the Wintersmith, there was a hard frost in Ankh-Morpork the night of May the 19th.

For the most part, it went unnoticed. There was no snow, and, unlike on the surrounding plains, people didn’t grow many things in the city. That was part of the problem, Sam Vimes learned as he sat through meeting after interminable meeting. Anhk-Morpork imported its food, and at the moment the crops that were supposed to be feeding the city in a few months were out freezing in their fields. He listened to Lord Vetinari and the Guild leaders and some panicked representatives from the Sto Plains talk about supply chains and international imports and which crops could still be re-sown until his ears ached.

As he marched home that night, he didn’t notice that every lilac he passed was shedding, green buds that had just been beginning to swell when the frost hit littering the ground at his feet. He didn’t notice until he woke up on the 25th of May and realized with a jolt that he hadn’t smelled a single lilac the previous day. Normally, the city was thick with the scent and he did his best to ignore it until the day when he couldn’t.

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Interviewer: JJ, if you could name all three movies in the sequel trilogy, what would they be?

JJ: hmmmm…

Star Wars Ep VII: The Bridal Carry Awakens

Star Wars Ep VIII: The Last Bridal Carry

Star Wars Ep IX: The Return of the Bridal Carry (ha, you thought I was dead. Sike!)


Goodreads reviews of smutty books

Why do half of them start with “this isn’t my type of thing AT ALL, I was initially so grossed out by the *gasp* ~kinky sex~ in Spank Me! Morally Questionable BDSM Queer Romance Vol.1, but then I read the whole book …”

Like did this book just drop out of the sky and latch onto your face, Brenda? I don’t think so. Stop posturing and wringing your hands, it’s a freaking book review. Let me know if it’s good or bad, let me know if it’s a library rental or a buy from an independent publisher, let me know how hot it is. Spare me your existential crisis from getting off on descriptions of kinky shenanigans in the bedroom. 

-so who gave you that hickey au-

Teresa’s been looking strangely at Minho ever since he sat down at their table in the library, and after the four of them have been discussing their last bio lab for a quarter of an hour she finally asks, “Minho, are you wearing makeup?”

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malisoun  asked:

Alrighty -- what are your current pairings within the Dream Pack? Or relationship headcanons in general. I am rabidly curious.

I hope you’re really curious and have the motivation of read all this but anyway here we go, you asked I’m answering. Sorry it took so much to reply to this but I was kinda busy.

First of all, every relationship of my pack is kinda deep like “too deep Brenda you should really stop adding so many details” deep, and very specific. The main and general idea is that some of the guys do not get along or are not really fond of each other and wouldn’t share the same space willingly if not for the loyalty they have towards Kavinsky (or in other cases, for another member of the pack). Like, I believe everything started with a “I’m here because of you K, not them”, but then developed in something more profound and became “I’m staying also for one of them, maybe two ,and if anyone touches that person I’ll burn their world down”, and this rule applies also among them. Plus, Kavinsky knows it and he uses it at his favor, he doesn’t show remorse in ordering them to beat to death one of the group sending 3 of them against 1.

Another central idea regarding how I see the Dream Pack is that Kavinsky is not really part of the pack. He leads them, but he’s not like them. There’s a part in TRC that goes something like, “Gansey had managed to befriend these different guys that for different reasons should have been friendless”, which implies they obviously wouldn’t have been friends if it wasn’t for Gansey, because he is the “glue” of the group. In K’s case I replaced “befriend” with “own”.

Kavinsky owns them, knows their secrets, their fears, but he doesn’t necessarily use them against them always. He is not “friends” with anyone in the pack except for Prokopenko. When I imagine the Dream Pack I always have in mind four guys, not five. I exclude Kavinsky more of the times or he’s always a background figure that I like to keep distant. He was a mystery in the books, he was complex, he wasn’t an easy person to be around and I don’t think this would have changed only because the pack had people that was more similar to him than anyone else, only because they were just as loud and “trash” as him. So, to me, he’s the guy that when Proko, Jiang, Swan & Skov are having some rare quality time together, actually enjoying themselves as a group, he is watching, always watching, but not being part of it. Kinda living this weird friendship the guys have, and he has created, through them because he isn’t able to feel it himself. He isn’t able to be friends with anyone. And that’s how I see what Kavinsky feels towards the pack, how each one of them feels towards Kavinsky though that’s an entire different thing and this is where I start answering your question: my favorite pairings now are 3.

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#15 part 3 Newt high school AU: So Soon...?

So soon…? Part three

Requested: anon

Prompt: ((part 3 to previous imagine))

A/N: I hope this suffices my loves! Also, I’ve done a POV from Teresa…All will be revealed :)



The spring breeze brushes through my hair as I walk down the lane. It’s Monday, marking two weeks since mine and Newt’s breakup. Yes, what I saw yesterday upset me somewhat, but if he’s moving on then so am I. Well, he hasn’t had to move on I guess. He cheated. However, I can’t honestly say that I don’t miss him just a little. That I don’t miss his arms around me, his smile and his laugh. Blocking his number could never change anything, I knew that. But these feelings will fade eventually, I think.

It’s kind of a relief that I live only a couple streets away from school, because I don’t have to worry as much about rushing in the mornings. Like now, I can simply walk to school without a care in the world. It’s one of my favourite parts of the day because it’s so peaceful outside. Plus, the weathers warming up in the spring time.

Cherry blossom trees are blooming and the gentle breeze is making the petals fall. These particular trees have a special meaning to me that I don’t really like admitting. Plus, they’re beautiful. The path ahead of me looks like a scene from a movie and I swear that I’ve never been so relaxed.

Once I unwillingly reach school, I spot Teresa and Brenda over by my locker. It’s where we always meet in the mornings before first lesson. They spot me approaching and a surprised look emerges on each of their faces.

“Hey…(y/n)?” Brenda stops and eyes me up and down. Teresa copies this action and widens her eyes slightly. For the first time in two weeks, I am wearing one of my traditional pairs of shorts, a t-shirt and a flannel shirt with my converse. It’s always been a look which I’ve stuck to as a more of a comfort than a fashion statement. It was always one of Newt’s favourites too…

But, it’s a normal outfit for me compared to the sweats and big hoodies which haven’t left my body for the past two weeks. And like I said, I’ve moved on from him.

“You’re…well, don’t take this as an offence or anything but…you’re actually dressed in normal clothes?” Teresa murmurs, snapping me out of my daydream.

I chuckle and budge past them both to open my locker. “Well, it’s been two weeks and I’m not just going to stand around and wait for my life to get back together. It’s time to move on.” I say smiling, gathering my books and looping my bag back over my shoulders.

My friends seem genuinely pleased and almost relieved once I say this. They both grin in unison.

“That’s great! It’s nice to see you with CLEAN hair, too!” Teresa answers jokingly, squeezing my upper arm as a sign of affection.

“That is really great, (y/n)! We weren’t sure how long it’d take you!” Brenda laughs. “C'mon then, we have first period soon.”

My friends and I begin to traipse towards our separate first lessons, mine being English. It’s a subject that I’ve always liked and it’s a class that I’m in with Brenda. Teresa has math and she hates to say that it’s with Newt.

“I won’t speak to him! I promise!” She rambles, nodding her head furiously.

“Teresa, it’s fine. Honestly.” I respond. “He didn’t cheat on you, did he?”

“No, but he cheated on one of my best friends and therefore I’m angry with him too.” She says stubbornly.

“Please, Teresa. I don’t want him to think that I’m mourning over him.” I say in monotone, trying to hide that this statement may not be the full truth.

Instead of responding verbally, Teresa shrugs and waves goodbye to Brenda and I as we’ve reached our classroom. And it doesn’t take long for the rest of the pupils to show up either. Eventually, we are seated.

The lesson doesn’t drag on too long as we are completing a creative writing assignment which I really enjoyed. Plus, the guy who I usually sit by isn’t in today, so I got the table to myself. Also, I’m right by a big window, which means that I can see cherry blossom trees again. They’ve got a quality about them that can just instantly put me at ease, no matter what the circumstance may be.


I’m halfway though math and it’s safe to say that I’m one trigonometry question away from falling asleep. It’s hard enough having to write down problems that I can’t fathom into any sense without little paper balls being thrown at me from the row behind. It’s not like I don’t know who they’re coming from, but I’m not talking to them. They’ve done wrong.

“Teresa PLEASE!” The thick British accent whispers in an irritated tone.

Spinning around in my chair, I shoot Newt daggers through my eyes. “WHAT?”

“I need to talk to you. To explain what really happened.” He says, a sadness I’ve never heard in his voice. It sounds like a type of grief that doesn’t and will not fade with time. A sadness that I recognise to be identical to (y/n)’s, even today when she insisted that she is moving on.

“I’ve got nothing to say to you.” I reply bluntly.

“Teresa please! I didn’t cheat on (y/n)! I was set up!” Newt pleads and suddenly he’s got my attention.

“YOU TWO! NEWTON! TERESA! BACK TO WORK!” Our math teacher yells, slamming his pen onto his desk.

I oblige and turn back around, finishing another dreadful problem. It doesn’t take longer than five minutes for me to receive another tap on the back. But this time, the paper has writing on it.

“Open it.” Newt whispers from behind me.

“This had better be good or I swear to god I’ll slap you myself.” I grunt, unfolding the paper.

And I’ll tell you now, what I read sends waves of relief, reassurance and excitement through me. Excitement, because I want to know what he’s going to do next.

At last, the bell signals and we’re allowed to leave. Newt and I both have a free period next and so does (y/n).

“I’ve got an idea that may just help you out.” I tell Newt, stepping into stride with him.

“So you believe me? You understand that it was all a set up from Sonya?” Newt responds, a sudden light in his voice.

“Yeah. Sonya’s always had her eye on you and I guess she saw her chance and took it with both hands.”
I say, shaking my head just at the thought of her. She’s always going after other peoples boyfriends and it was only a matter of time before she tried to separate (y/n) and Newt. If I’m honest, I saw it coming a while back.

“So, what’s your plan?” Newt asks.



Unfortunately, the bell clangs which means that Brenda and I have a free period, along with Teresa. Usually, us three will spend it in the library with Minho, Thomas and Newt as we all have a fee period together today. Last week, I wasn’t even in school because I was that upset. This week though, I’m not too sure how I’m going to get past the awkwardness of Newt being there. I can’t deny that I miss him, but I’ve not done wrong here. He has, so he should be the one feeling awkward. Not me.

“So how d'ya think you did on that creative writing task?” Brenda asks me as we start strolling towards the library.

“Not too bad, I don’t think!” I smile, adjusting my bag on my shoulders. “I wrote about blossom trees…”

“(y/n).” Brenda says sharply. “That’s NOT going to help you move on from N-”

“It’s fine, okay?” I convey. “Just because I like cherry blossom trees because of HIM doesn’t mean that I can’t move on!”

Brenda sighs and shakes her head in an almost sympathetic manor. “Whatever you say.” She finishes before we fall into a peaceful silence.

Brenda are another couple minutes walk away from the library when my phone chimes in my pocket, as does hers.

It’s a message from Teresa: ‘hey, change of plan. Meet me in study room seven.’

“Hey did you get a message from Teresa?” I ask, stopping in my tracks.

“U-uh y-yeah.” Brenda stutters, shifting in her feet. Something’s up.

“What?” I ask.


“No, really, what’s up?”

“Nothing! I promise!” Brenda says before blinking a couple of times, as if to try and hide the look of guilt in her eyes.

“Alright…shall we go then?” I say slowly, beginning to turn on my heels.

“Y-yeah. I’ll m-meet you there. I just need the toilet!” Brenda says before hurrying off into the girls bathroom jugs down the hall.

As strange as that was, I decide not to let it bother me and I continue heading to study room seven. Our school has empty classrooms that you can reserve when you’ve got a free period. I guess Teresa has reserved us one for today. When I arrive, the rooms empty, so I just sit down on a desk top and fish a notebook out of my bag. I’ve never been one for chairs. It’s very quiet on my own, but I’m guessing Teresa must be on her way with Brenda.

Suddenly, a tall blonde boy is shoved into the classroom and the door slams and locks behind him. It doesn’t take more than a second to recognise the matted hair and brown eyes.


“Please, love-”

“I AM NOT YOU’RE LOVE!” I scream, curling up on the desktop. Not in fear, but in pain. Emotional pain can always top physical pain, depending on its level.

“At least let me explain what happened!” Newt begs, leaning against the wall by the door, only a few metres from my desk.

“I know what happened, Newt!” I sigh, refusing to look at him.

“But not the full story…” He trails off.

Huffing under my breath, I check the clock on the wall and see that we’ve literally got ages. “You have five minutes, then I’m going back to my friends.” I grunt.

I can sense the relief in Newts sigh as he begins to speak.

“My chemistry teacher asked me to tutor Sonya as she was failing the class-”

“And you hooked up, lovely story.” I hiss.

“No. No we didn’t.” Newt says and I almost believe him. Almost. “No, I tutored her after school in the library twice and the I told her that we’re done and she’s caught up on recent topics.”

Taking the first part of Newt’s speech in, I nod, but keep my eyes to the ground.

“I was going to tell you on that night that we separated.” Newt goes on. “But Sonya called my phone.”

I wince at the sound of her name and by the tone in Newt’s voice, he doesn’t seem too happy about it either.

“I have no idea what she was originally calling for, but she decided to stir things up a little. In other words, she lied through her teeth and split us up through some spiteful jealousy.”

We both go silent for a moment before I ask a question.

“What about yesterday at the mall?” I croak.

“She followed me to the hotdog queue and when she saw you, she thought that she’d have a go at making my life worse and taking away the most important thing in it.” Newt whispers. “I swear we never did anything, but even so, I’m so, so, so sorry.”

It’s a lot to take in and I feel like I’m going to cry. Not from sadness nor happiness. More from relief and tiredness. I haven’t had a good nights sleep since we split.

“So…that’s it?” I say, my voice barely a whisper.

“That’s it.” Newt says. “Can you forgive me?”

He takes a small step towards me and I remain with my head down.

“Please?” He asks, another step closer. There’s only a metre or so more between us.


And that’s all it takes for my head to finally snap up and meet his deep brown eyes. I can tell that he’s nervous, even here and now. Can’t blame him really.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” I demand, trying to figure out how I feel. Well, except the extreme adoration for the boy.

“I would’ve and I’ve been trying, but you’ve blocked my number and have managed to avoid me since.”

“Oh…” I mumble, keeping eye contact with Newt. To be honest, I never want to break it again.

“Love?” He murmurs.


“Can I hold your hand?” I look back up at Newt and see that he’s eyeing me with hope. A hope that sets a fire off inside.

Instead of replying verbally, I take his had and rub my thumb over his fingers. Silence and tension thickens the air between us. Newt steps so that he’s standing right in front of me.

At last, I pluck up the courage to speak to Newt.

“I’ve really missed you.”

A smile tugs at Newt’s lips and I regain the feeling that I first experienced when I was falling for him. Adoration and young love. The feeling that this could really be something.

“I’ve missed you more.” He hushes and at last, pulls me into his arms. I’m sitting on the desk so I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. Newt strokes my back and places a small kiss on my forehead. This is it. This is what it feels like to feel safe again.

Newt speaks again. “Teresa and Brenda locked us in here.”

“I knew Brenda was hiding something.” I chuckle, remembering how strange she’d acted earlier.

We stay like this for a little while longer, just enjoying one another. I’m glad to say that Newt still smells like Newt, with his musky outdoor scent that he’s had from the day that I met him. That day with the blossom trees. That reminds me…

“I wrote about the cherry blossom trees from when we first met that spring.” I say quietly into Newt’s shoulder. “For my creative writing project.

Newt laughs lightly and I can feel his hot breath on my neck. "I remember that…we were walking home right?”

“Yeah.” I smile.

More silence. More tension. I’m finding it hard not to do something stupid. I’ve been longing for Newt for two whole weeks and right now, with his floppy hair and smile playing at his lips, it’s not helping.

“I never want to see you hurt like this again. Weather it’s because of me or another person. It’s killed me seeing you sad.” Newt says into my neck, sending vibrations down my spine. “I never want to spend another day without you.” And something tells me that he really means it. About me not hurting and that he doesn’t want to be without me. I can hear the strain in his voice and I have to give into my desires.

“Newt?” I ask in a low whisper.

“Yes, love?”

“Can I kiss you?”

And this time, Newt doesn’t respond and instead, he moves his head from my neck and kisses me softly. Newt cups my cheeks and I play with his hair. At last, the on going agony surging through me diminishes as his lips meet mine. The room around me melts away and in this moment I realise how much I’ve missed him.

“I bloody love you, (y/n).” Newt mumbles, tugging on my lip into the kiss.

“I love you Newt.” I respond, working my hands through his hair and wrapping my legs tighter around his waist.

We kiss and cuddle and laugh until the very next period and I can honestly it feels like I’ve come home.


A/N: so that’s that! That’s a wrap as they say!! :)
THANK YOU WHOEVER MAY HAPPEN TO BE READING THIS!! Thank you so much for reading my imagine! I hope you enjoyed it! Just so you’re all aware, every lovely message, like and reblog means the absolute world to me.
Any feedback is lovely. Just so you know, my ask is always 100% open weather it’s for a chat, an imagine/drawing/anything request or advice, I am ALWAYS here for you!

You guys all mean so much to me and I want to do whatever I can to make you all happy :)

But in the movie Jorge is Brenda’s father now I can just imagine him being a protective daddy

Jorge: Brenda drink some water we’re in a desert

Jorge: Brenda stop getting in trouble you could die

Jorge: Brenda stop flirting with that Thomas guy

but imagine how much creepier it would have been if the first crank that Thomas and Brenda saw in the tunnels stopped and stared at them and after a moment of very intense silence where they don’t know whether running would be wise because the crank seems to be frozen and abrupt movements might awaken him, the crank would’ve started TALKING and maybe just maybe “rose took my nose I suppose and it blows” would’ve happened and the whole concept of the Flare virus wouldn’t have been ruined and turned into some mainstream zombie virus