once, a little less then a year ago i joined an undertale group chat but i never actually played the game i just watched two playthroughs, one was watching my friend play it through skype and we did the voices.

Anyway weird time but just realised how much i love undyne again so wanted to draw something


Luke’s having a home call.

Luke: Miss, why are you crying? Are you hurting somewhere?

Patient: Have you ever seen “Inside I’m Dancing”? I knew I needed to keep myself save from it, but… it all happened so fast… I accidentally turned my TV on… and there it was…

Luke: So you called 911?

Patient: I didn’t know what to do. My friend watched it once, and she cried for weeks after that, and I’m having my job interview tomorrow…

Luke: I’m gonna put you on a drip now, okay?

You’ve read correctly. This is officially my last run of Sailor Moon Apocalypse prints. I’ve gained most of my followers thanks to this image and started a lot of conversations at cons with my print of it. However, it’s time to move on and lay this friend to rest.

I will have this print available at Salt Lake Comic Con. Afterwards it will be available on my Storenvy and will not be restocked once it is gone.

Thank you to all the supporters and fellow Sailor Moon fans! I hope you will continue to watch over me as I keep working on new things!

I’ve been thinking a lot about being tznius - or constantly improving myself - and whether I should stop posting photos of myself. And then that inevitably leads to, should I begin deleting old photos of myself.

It’s a sticking point to me, I like my face. And my silly smile, and I like the idea that people can get an idea of what I look like. That they might recognise me one day. 

Myself and a few friends have frum bucket lists, written half in jest. The Next Five Things I Am Looking To Take On, and then a rather passive aggressive The Last Five Things I Will Ever Take On. A friend of mine always mentions that the last thing he’ll take on is praying to the moon. For me, removing photos of me from the public sphere was once the last thing. Now, it feels like its creeping up the list.

But the flip side is, I want to be empowered through sharing photos of my face. I’ve watched so many liberation circles overlap with selfie culture, and I watch green with envy and bewilderment as the so personal is so political, & that it is driven by people’s faces. Such is that enduring self love from people that society often makes to feel unloveable.

I feel as if I’m on the outside of it all. Out of step. Too frum, too Orthodox, to click with such things.

In summary, here is a photo of my face. This is where I am at right now. It’s not brave, resilient self love. It’s not liminal, present, realised. It’s transitional. Here for now, we’ll see where it’ll be in the future. 

It’s just a photo of my face.

Thanks so much to @shercup for tagging me!! 
Rules: answer the questions in a new post and tag 20 blogs you would like to get to know better.
Nickname: my friends don’t really have a nickname for me but my family calls me Em sometimes
star sign: leo
height: 5'1 :(
time right now: 11:31PM
last thing googled: Canadian cereal
favorite music artists: I really like gorillaz and marina and the diamonds
song stuck in your head: once upon a dream from sleeping beauty
last movie watched: kubo and the two strings
last tv show watched: game of thrones
what are you wearing right now: shorts and an xmen t-shirt
when did you create your blog: 2015
what kind of stuff do you post: stranger things, Rick and morty, game of thrones, and a lot more but mostly humour
do you have any other blogs: @artstardust I like just created it a couple days actually lol
do you get asks regularly: no
why did you choose your URL: i have no idea it makes no sense to be honest lmao
gender: female
hogwarts house: slytherinnn
pokemon team: Mystic
favorite color: light pink
average hours of sleep: for the past few weeks it’s been 7-8
lucky number: 7 or 17
favorite character(s): Rick, daenerys, arya, 11, Jonathan Byers, pearl, peridot, zuko, mako, Harley Quinn, magneto, Todd and viola (from the chaos walking series), and omfg so many more
how many blankets do you sleep with: 3-4
dream job: I think working for nasa or just the space field in general would be really amazing but I suck at math so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Following: 777
I tag: @solluxofrose @ollisqueerworld @peppermintbutlerlol @notadrugcartel @thekindestscorpius @gemstripe @youraveragemushroom @spacesteppmom @ramimalachite @tertiary-consumer
And I know this isn’t 20 but anyone else who I may have missed or would like to do it is welcome to do so!!

Keeper #4 - [NCT] Ten Scenarios

[A/N] I hold no responsibilities. This just happened. I’m actually sorry.


All Ten did was stare at me whole evening while he drinks with friends his own age. Everytime I refill the food on the table, he’ll be watching from afar and I was heavily self-conscious. There’s once where he glides his hand along my spine as he took one tart in his mouth, eyes never leaving me. All I could think of was how dead I am going to be once my mother found out.

But I’m leaving in a day so it didn’t matter. The apartment is ready and my things are in place. All that’s left to do is leave this mansion and get to that college. I was going to get my degree, buy my mom out of poverty and leave the House of Leechaiyapornkul for good. It was a long stretch of a plan but it will have to work. A degree is what will help me and my family.

I am going to end this slavery.

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we-are-eldritch-knight  asked:

"How fair your wounds, friend?" Harkin stood next to the paladin's bed, watching him with a mix of concern and relief.

Tarek didn’t initially answer, his one working eye closed, the other hidden beneath a roll of bandages that covered much of the remainder of his face.

After a moment, he opened his singular eye, and met the knight’s gaze.

“I’ve been better. Considerably better. But I suppose you and I have something in common now.”

He said, his eye flickering to where his arm had once been, now vaporized to the shoulder.

“The funny thing is that I still feel like it’s there. Phantom limb pain they tell me, perfectly normal. I suppose it’s the only part about this that does feel normal”

He admitted, eye closing with a sigh.

  • what she says:i'm fine
  • what she means:barbara didn't even want to go to that party in the first place. but she went because her best friend asked her too. she had worried that nancy was going to leave her behind for the 'in-crowd' once she got with steve. barbara knew the only reason steve wanted nancy to go to the party was on the off-chance he'd get into her pants. nancy told her she wouldn't before the got out of the car. nancy asked barbara to not let her do anything stupid. barbara was a great friend and went to a (frankly shitty) party and wasn't having a good time cause she saw her best friend breaking her promise and falling under peer pressure. barbara was just trying to look out for her friend and nancy told her to leave and while i think nancy is responsible enough to make her own decisions i think she also should have listened to barbara. barbara was a great friend and didnt deserve what happened to her. and now im emotional because obviously nancy knows that because nancy went through hell and back to try and find barbara. nancy tried her damndest to get her best friend back because barbara wouldnt have been taken if she hadn't been at that party to support her. after nancy and everyone found out barbara was dead there was no hesitation in her voice when she said she wanted to kill the monster. nancy risked her life willingly to avenge barbara and if that doesnt cement their friendship i dont know what would.

@dreamworks let them be Best Friends™ next season ,,

  • “why is pidge on the counter” / “they like to feel tall”
  • “holy shit look what i bought” / [bag of “authentic UFO crash site soil”] / “HOLY SHIT”
  • both in the “ok but first, coffee” club
  • crop top hoes
  • the Best and Only battle couple out there
  • [loud gasp] / [clutches arm] / “HAROLD.”
  • have learned how to synchronize their sighs from across the castle
  • way too good as assembling IKEA furniture
  • shiro once made the mistake of letting them tag-team on a mission & 30 sec after he watched them crest a hill, explosions started going off, galra ships were surrounding the planet, and 5000 prisoners were fleeing for their lives
  • “do u have a soul?” / “lol no”
  • pidge gives keith weekly massages that consist of angrily punching his shoulders and walking all over his back while keith screams for mercy
  • when one starts yodeling, the other follows suit
  • both are incredibly ace but say “i’m nutting” most out of all the other paladins
  • long-time members of the “terribly bony elbows” club
  • keith once stopped talking to pidge for 3 days after learning they’d never had white rice before
  • keith: HEY PIDGE / keith: [chucks pieces of alien tech at their face] / pidge: WOO
  • only people who can make each other cry laugh
  • “hangout together” by being in opposite corners of the same room while sitting in complete silence
  • have perfected the half-lidded look of disinterest and mild disgust
  • [deep sigh] / “extroverts”
  • they are, without a doubt, walking, talking shitposts
  • pidge, whispering: ur gay / keith: [gentle gasp] / keith: how did u kno
I'm on mobile so I can't put this under a read more but these are just some thoughts...

I just watched the School of Life’s video on being hated. I, personally and luckily, don’t get hate here, but I did once last year which left me feeling really bad about myself. It was someone I thought I was friends with, someone highly respected in this community. It was shocking and upsetting to wake up to such a message when I never had bad incentives and not once would I have thought that something so innocent could have angered one to the point of also blocking me. Up to this day, it makes me feel bad about myself but I realised it should not have an effect on me at all. This person does not know me, not my likes, my dislikes, my personality, nothing. They only knew me over the internet where we had had just a few conversations with some small talk here and there. It is not the wisest to judge someone over the internet (both in my case and theirs). I realise I am hated by people who don’t even know me, or never actually cared enough to get to know me, so I should not ever let them have an impact on my life, no matter how popular they may be. Moral of the story: if you ever get hate (especially over the internet), remember that it is probably someone who does not even know you and who isn’t qualified to make judgements about you to the point where you feel bad about yourself. Criticism is fine when done in the right way, but hate is clearly not the right way to deal with things when the main focus is hurting the other person. This is all I had to say I guess, go watch the video because it might help you (or it might not I don’t know) and take care of yourselves!

I Could Get Used to This

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x fem!Reader

Summary: ‘Fic where reader sits on Peter to get him to slow down and watch a movie with them and they fall asleep. Fluffy goodness and maybe Peter gets a morning wood and reader gets embarrassed others take photos of them being cute.’ – requested by anon!

Word Count: 494

Warning: none?, modern!au

A/N: didn’t include the morning wood part oops, could write another including that // once again, i assumed you meant peter maximoff not parker – feel free to send again if i was wrong!

Originally posted by imaginecabin

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celebrating Sebby’s birthday would include

Originally posted by brooklynsergeant

  • waking up before him
  • lying in bed and admiring his cuteness
  • carefully pecking his lips not to wake him up
  • taking a picture of him because he looks so angelic and relaxed
  • trying really hard to get away from tight grip
  • quietly singing him a lullaby when you notice him waking up
  • him going back to sleep
  • putting on a baggy shirt of his
  • making him a yummy breakfast
  • decorating the breakfast with his favorite candies and taking it to bed
  • waking him up with kisses
  • “ La multi ani , darling” (happy birthday)
  • eating breakfast in bed
  • talking about anything and everything
  • “i’m not making any age-related jokes because i genuinely feel bad about how old you are”
  • “shut up meanie!”
  • giving him his first present: a scrapbook of ton of pictures of you, him and his friends
  • giving him little birthday presents once every hour 
  • taking a shower together
  • *wink wink*
  • speaking with your broken Romanian
  • “you’re adorable, doll”
  • spending the afternoon with his mom
  • watching funny family video of lil Sebby
  • making an alphabet book for him, with a memory about your relationship for each letter
  • “i’m not saying you’re old, i’m just saying that if you were milk, i’d smell you before i poured you in my cereal”
  • “that’s it, we’re breaking up”
  • going to his favorite ice cream place
  • special birthday kisses
  • “where are you taking me, love?”
  • “somewhere special”
  • driving him to a huge field with a starry sky above it
  • having a picnic there
  • “i really don’t deserve this”
  • “you’re right, Seb, you deserve far better things”
  • giving him yet another birthday card, with your poem in it
    i hope you’ve made the person you were yesterday proud and i hope you’ll create a good start for the person you’ll become tomorrow.i hope that old flavors will still taste the same to an even older tongue and old songs will still sound the same to you.and now that you’re older and taller,you’re able to reach a bit higher but please don’t scrape off the stars of your ceiling yet,you’ll need them.”
  • him kissing you passionately
  • “i adore you, angel”
  • stargazing together
  • “the stars will be so proud to know their atoms created somebody like you”
  •  talking about stars and galaxies
  • “i never want to leave this moment”
  • “but what if the next one is even better?”
  • “is it possible, love?”
  • giving him his last present
  • 3 tickets to Constanta, Romania (for you, him and his mom)
  • you’ve taken 2 extra jobs to be able to afford those tickets
  • him crying from happiness
  • making love under the stars
  • “Te iubesc din toatăinima” (i love you with all my heart)

Every time I watch the show and laugh about Doof and his giant nerd face and how much I adore him and god he’s such a loser and he just fails at everything… I suddenly remember all the ridiculously tragic backstories all at once and just lose it

he’s a double amputee who had his arm trapped under a boulder and nobody bothered to tell him he wasn’t like a starfish and it wouldn’t grow back, he was abandoned by his family multiple times and raised by wild ocelots, his parents missed like all his fucking birthdays including his birth, his only friend was a balloon that HE LOST and oh yeah he had to stay outside every night IN COLD EASTERN GERMANY WEATHER FOR YEARS AND NOT MOVE OR ELSE HE WOULD GET YELLED AT AND HE WAS LITERALLY NEVER ALLOWED TO MOVE







I was dating this guy for three months (we had been friends for four years before that), and he was really nice at first, but then he started being really rude concerning my appearance, so I broke up with him. He would say things like, “I wish your boobs were bigger” and “you’re not really that hot, I don’t get why all these guys want to talk to you.” We tried to have sex once (he was a virgin, I wasn’t) and he couldn’t get hard, so he took out his laptop and held it in front of his face and STARTED WATCHING PORN WHILE I WAS NAKED IN FRONT OF HIM. When I asked him why, he said the girls in porn are way more attractive, and I wasn’t enough. (He’s still a virgin.)

I deleted his number, but we’re still friends on facebook, and a week ago, he made a post about how I was a terrible girlfriend, not hot, and he wasted three months of his life with me when he could have been with someone much better. A ton of our friends commented, nearly all of them shocked he would say those things about me, he deleted the posts at his parent’s suggestion, and he didn’t use facebook for two days. 

And then came a long “Women should just be for sex, feminism is ruining my chances with women” rant, complete with a very accurate recap of our failed attempt at sex . All our guy friends were saying things like, dude, you’re a fucking idiot, and the girls were saying, you’re terrible, no one will ever want to date you. 

I guess at some point, he felt like he made a mistake, because he tried to get me to stop talking to other guys, even going as far as to demand I stop talking to my own dad, because he should be the most important man in my life, and I can call him Daddy instead. All though facebook posts. Which are still public. Again, the posts got deleted at his parent’s suggestion.

Since then, I’ve had multiple guys from our friend group offer to “show me a good time” and I’m not sure if they’re serious or not, but it’s pissing my ex off, which makes me laugh. The best part is that yesterday, he sent me a dick pic, with the caption, “Thinking about you makes me like so fucking hard, baby girl. I’d let you have another chance, if you sucked me dry like the little cock whore you are.” Like that’s supposed to make me want to take him back.

Posted by Rica Matsumoto on her twitter.

“Even if I lose or make mistakes…my heart grows.

Damn it! By giving it my all, I’ll become courageous!”

(translation by one of my best friends, who’s currently taking classes for learning Japanese)

I also went through the retweets and most of the comments (pretty much all of the Japanese ones at least) were supportive. As long as Rica is here I also want to keep watching Satoshi’s adventures, no matter what. Thank you for once again giving us an amazing hot blooded performance! :]


I was going to study History at Birmingham, but I thought I’d see if I could get any more acting jobs through the workshop. I got a job at a cinema because I thought I’d watch loads of films and study actors, but once you’ve shoveled pop corn for ten hours, you’re not going to stay for another two, you just get the hell outta there! All my friends were at school having a great time and I was having a shit time, so I decided at the end of that year, I’d go to Birmingham. Only about a week after I’d sent off my accommodation forms, I got the part in Skins. That’s another nice thing about the workshop, over the years people like Samantha Morton, Toby Kebbell and more recently Jack O'Connell and Vicky McClure, we’ve all sort of grown up together in that group.

Showers and Feelings ➸ Brett Talbot

Request: Could you please write a Brett one where the reader’s Liam’s best friend and she naturally doesn’t like Brett but Stiles forces them to stay at home together to watch over someone and they end up doing it in the shower?

IM BAAAAAAAACCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKK i apologize for taking so long anon but here it isss!!!!! not as smutty as it could have been but vvvvvv fluffy






“No. Absolutely not!”

Stiles sighs at your stubbornness. “Please Y/N,” the alpha pleads with you, “Please, we need you to watch him, just this once.”

“Are you kidding me, Stiles?” you growl, E/C eyes flashing blue, “It’s not about that. But you expect me, while you go out looking for this Benefactor, for me to stay home with the giraffe over here and some random ass beta?” Brett growls and bares his canines at your words. You only sneer at him before letting out a challenging snarl. Brett roars in provocation and advances towards you, eyes glowing, teeth bared, claws extended. But you weren’t afraid. You felt your own canines slide over your lip, and then a chick is heard as you reveal your sharpened claws.

“Bring it, Talbot,” you jeer as he let’s out yet another growl. And then he’s rushing at you. A few feet in front of you, Brett leaps in the air and raises a clawed hand to slash at you. You push yourself off the wall behind you and meet him halfway. The two of you crash in midair and fall to the ground. Brett slashes at your face and you go for his throat with your teeth. You roar in pain as the Talbot boy’s claws drag across your face, easily breaking the soft flesh. Blood drips down your face as you catch his wrist in your mouth, biting down so that the bone fractures. He snarls and struggles against your powerful hold. You release him with a howl of pain when his claws dig into your stomach. Writhing out of his grip on the floor, you deliver a two-legged kick to Brett’s chest and the he shoots away from you.

Brett cradles his injured hand and multiple cracks are heard as his body puts his bones back into place. You hiss as you feel your own wound mending and the skin flowing back together. Your fangs have dulled but your eyes remain glowing a steel blue as you get up and face Brett once again. You snarl at him, hatred burning in his own eyes as you stare each other down.

As you raise your hand to rip his throat out, a roar is emitted from Scott. Your Alpha’s eyes are blood red, and his multitude of sharpened canines were showing as he roared. Both you and Brett are thrown back by an invisible force, though it affected you more than he. You’re immediately shifted back to your human form as you hit the wall. Clawing at your ears, you whimper, just the noise made by your Alpha was hurting you. You whimper again, your body being  wracked by tremors from an unknown source. Liam is by your side in less than a second on his knees.

“Scott,” Liam growls, “What did you do?”

“I was being her Alpha.”

Eventually the tremors stop and you get up with only slight discomfort, Liam at your side, shooting you an apologetic glance You narrow your eyes at Brett before turning to Scott and Stiles.

“Y/N,” he sighs, “Please.”

“Fine,” you say with a tone so cold, you scared yourself, “You owe me.”



“What, Brett?” you respond, exasperated beyond caring.

“I’m sorry.”

What? You turn to the Talbot boy and raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow at him. “Excuse me?”

Brett shifted awkwardly, staring at his feet and rubbing the back of his neck. “I'm… sorry? For, you know, attacking you, and clawing you, and-and ripping your shirt, and um-” he motions to the blood, cuts, and rips that seem to cover your body all too often since you’ve met Scott McCall and Derek Hale. In the 3 years that you’ve known Brett Talbot, you’ve never seen him like this. Awkward, nervous even.

“Wait, wai-wai-wai-wai-wait,” you hold up a hand to stop Brett’s rambling. “Is Brett Talbot, apologizing to me? Wow, what a day! Do you mind if I can just record it?”

“Stop it!” You laugh at Brett’s disbelieving face. “I’m serious, I-I really am sorry.”

Your gaze flickers to the ground as your lips begin to curl into a smile and Brett can’t help as a grin spreads across his face. “You’re forgiven.” The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“Really?” When you nod, a sigh of relief escapes Brett’s mouth. He steps towards you, toned abs showing through the claw marks that you had left in his shirt. Brett takes another step, and against your instincts, you don’t take a step back. Hesitantly, Brett raises his hand, and pauses, before reaching towards your face. He uses his middle and ring finger to brush your hair out of your face. Brett’s ears twitch at the sound out your heartbeat quickening. Ironically, you can hear his own heart racing.

Brett towers over you, tracing a line of blood across your cheek, the skin smooth underneath as you had healed hours ago. He let’s out a breathy laugh through his nose as he continues to stroke your cheek. Your eyes follow his hand, to his wrist, where a braided leather bracelet was tied, up his arm, to the pulled-up sleeve of his long sleeve shirt. Your eyes linger on his shoulder, the muscles bulging, even as he was relaxed, then to his neck, stopping for a moment on his jawline, then to his lips, which were quirked into a trifling smile, and finally to his eyes. His bright green eyes were soft, gazing at you with such tenderness you didn’t think was possible towards you from the Talbot boy.

Your hand lifted and covered Brett’s own on your cheek. Brett cocks his head to the side, and barely, just barely, leans down to close the distance between his lips and your own. Brett leans in a little more and you breathe in sharply as he gazes at your lips, his eyes flickering yellow for just a moment. Brett closes his eyes and breathes in deeply. “You- uh, you should probably go shower,” his hand falls from your face, dragging yours with him. Brett squeezes your hand, “Go, I can watch Bailey until you’re done.”

You nod and allow Brett’s hand to slip from your grasp. Brett can’t help but watch as you leave and begin to climb the stairs. You pause for a moment and for a second, Brett hopes that you might stay, but you turn away from him and make your way up to Scott’s room.


As you open a drawer to grab some of your clothes that are kept at Scott’s house, you grimace at the box of condoms on the shelf. Kira, you thought, before shuddering and digging out an old t-shirt of your brother’s and a pair of sweats, a bra, panties, and socks. You connect your phone to a speaker and place them both on the counter. You had already turned on the water to make sure that it was warm by the time you climbed in.

You sigh in relief as the warm water hits your back. Reaching for the body wash, you lather it over you hand and scrub your body, scrubbing roughly at the blood on your face, your arms, and your sides. You wince as the water turns pink from the blood of your now-healed injuries. You just stand there and watch as the pink water pales until it returns to the normal transparent color. Blindly, you reach for the shampoo, but instead knock into it. You watch it fall to the shower floor.

“Fuck,” you mutter, reaching down to grab the bottle from the tile. Your hands close around it and you bring it up to squeeze some into your hair. You massage your head slowly as the water washes the shampoo away. The conditioner came next, the cream softening your hair under the spray of water. You sigh as you sit down and allow the water to hit your back. You don’t realize how much time has passed as you just sit there and think. You didn’t know why you and Brett hated each other as much as you did. You shouldn’t. Lydia had told you many times that if you hadn’t hated each other as much as you say you did, you would be perfect for each other. Allison used to tell you the same, whenever you complained about the “asshat my parents make me hang out with.”

Allison. She didn’t deserve her death. None of your friends did. Not Erica, not Boyd, not Aiden, but Allison most of all didn’t deserve what happened to her. You can’t help but picture her face as the Oni stabbed her through the stomach. You picture Scott’s face. You picture Argent’s face. But most of all, you can hear your own deafening scream, mixing with Lydia’s until you can’t differentiate between them. A sob escapes your lips as you return to your body. And you remember, Allison has been dead for nigh over a year now. Tears fall from your eyes and mix with the water dripping down your face as memories of Allison run through your head.

The sobs that wracked your body ceased after a little while and eventually you stood, allowing the water to cascade over your whole body. Slowly your brain began to fall into a sort of lull, and nothing went through your head. You just stood there, staring at the tile in front of you. And then you felt a touch to the middle of your back.


“Y/N,” he murmurs softly, dragging his fingertips up your back to your bare shoulder. You were numb at this point, you couldn’t feel anything. And Brett knew this; it would happen to his sister sometimes after their parents died. You had lost too many people, and he knew exactly how to coax you out of your stupor. “Y/N,” he whispers into your ear again. “It’s alright, Y/N, you’re alright. I promise.” His breath hits the back of your neck as his tongue traces the shell of your ear. Your eyes slowly begin to focus at the action, finally becoming conscious of the man standing behind you.

“Brett?” you say quietly, “Where’s Bailey?” “Scott called, it’s over.” Brett’s answer was short and curt.

“What are you doing?” you breath as the werewolf wraps his arms around your waist and pulls your back to his chest. “Brett, what-what are you do-” You break off with gasp as Brett’s lips land on your neck.

“I want to show you how sorry I am,” he hums into your skin. His kisses don’t stop as you tilt your head to the side. “I’m sorry.” Brett’s lips brush over your pulse point and you gasp, letting your he’d fall against the torso of the giant mix between man and wolf standing behind you. “I’m sorry.”

“Brett, you-you’re forgiven,” you stutter as he continues to mouth at the flesh covering your pulse, “I-I said you’re forgiven.” Brett’s dulled fangs graze your skin and you whimper, chest heaving as you struggled to breathe. “Brett. Brett.”

“Yes, darling?”

Your breath hitches at the pet name that fell from his lips. When you don’t answer, Brett lowers his head back to your neck. A moan of his name slips unwillingly from your mouth.

“I just want to make it up to you, darling,” Brett rasps in your ear, “Show you exactly how sorry I am.” A shiver runs down your skin at his words, and you tilt your head even further, if possible. One of his hands snakes down your arm to intertwine your fingers with his. His other hand - oh, his other hand - stays locked around your waist, massaging your hips with the pad of his thumb, rubbing gentle, soothing circles into your skin. “Just relax, darling.”

And you do. Your muscles relax and your head lolls back into Brett’s chest. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear, placing kiss after kiss into your neck. “It’s alright darling, you’re alright,” Brett murmurs, slowly turning you around to face him. One of his hands is still around your waist, while the other rises up slowly to brush your dripping hair out of your face.

And finally - finally - Brett leans in and kisses you. It feels as if it’s in slow motion. He glances at your lips before looking back to your eyes, searching for permission. Your expression says it all. You want this. Him. But just to be clear, you give a slight nod of your head. That’s all Brett needs before attaching your lips together.

His lips are soft and smooth. Gentle. He kisses you as if you’ll break. His thumb caresses your cheek as you respond to his touch. Your own arms come up to wrap around his neck. He’s tall, so much so that you have to pull him down by the neck in order to run your fingers through his hair. Brett moans softly when you tug at his hair. The werewolf pulls you closer to him, if possible, and deepens the kisses, swiping his tongue across your bottom lip, then taking your top lip between his teeth.

“Brett,” comes the soft whimper from your mouth into his own. He hums in response, not once breaking apart from you. Brett gently backs you up into the shower wall, grip still tight around you. You whimper his name again when Brett separates your lips. His tall frame stares down at you with such tenderness and adoration that you can feel the walls you’ve built around your heart begin crumbling. “Brett,” you breathe once more.”

The Talbot boy’s eyes flash yellow at the way to say his name and he’s having a hard time keeping his wolf in check. “I-” he begins, but cuts himself off and starts over, “Are you sure, Y/N? Are you sure you want this? If I start, Y/N, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop. Tell me you want this, Y/N. please, tell me.”

“Brett.” You stand up on the tips of your toes, and you still weren’t tall enough. He bends down slightly to hear your answer. “I want this, Brett,” you breathe against his pink, swollen lips, “I want you.” Brett moans at your words, and drags his fingertips up your sides. Your breath hitches at the action, anticipation for what was to come becoming the only thought in your head.

“Brett, please.”

He doesn’t answer you, only continues his gentle exploration of your body, gentle, absentminded touches memorizing every inch like the lines to his old favorite song. His hands are gentle with you, as if you’re so fragile that you’ll shatter beneath him if he presses too hard.


Your plea of his name brings him out of his daze. He was so mesmerized by you, it was like he couldn’t live without you. Underneath all the hate filled glares, the snide comments, the arguing; beneath all of that, Brett couldn’t help but be totally, hopelessly, head-over-heels in love with you. Brett finally kisses you again, before sliding his hands back down your waist to cup your thighs. Without faltering in the kiss, he lifts you up and wraps your legs around his waist. He so tall that you squeal for a moment, breaking your lips from his.

“I’m not used to being this far off the ground,” you mumble, blushing embarrassedly. Brett’s lips part before letting out an unattractive snort. Soon he’s full on laughing. “Bretttt,” you whine, it’s not funny.”

“I-It’s just,” he said between chuckles, “you’re so small. It’s so cute.” Brett kisses you again, peppering kisses all over your face, jaw, cheeks, neck, and lips. “God, you’re beautiful,” Brett gushes, “So beautiful.”

You whimper softly at his words and push your hips against his. “Brett, hurry up, God damn it.” Brett complies, finally. He keeps his eyes locked with yours as he guides his length to your entrance.

“I love you,” he breathes as he ever so slowly slips into you. His confession shocks you and you gape at him, before your eyes roll back into your head. He keeps pushing into you and soon he filled you to the hilt.

“Say it!” you gasp out, needing to his hear his confession once more.

I love you,” he repeats, “I love you. All of you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything that I’ve ever done to you. I’m so sorry. I love you.”

“Brett!” you gasp as he pulls back and slams his hips back into yours. “Brett! I love you too! Oh! My! Go-!” Brett presses his lips to yours fervently, whispering sweet nothings against your mouth.

“I love you,” he whispers again, and it wouldn’t be the last time he said it. Brett drops his head to the crook of your neck, a “you’re so beautiful” falling from his lips and causing you to flush against his body.

The more Brett collides his hips with yours, the harder it becomes for you to control yourself. You grip his shoulder with one hand, while the other tangles into and tugs at his damp hair. The water from the shower head is hitting his back, spraying off of his muscled body and protecting you from the drizzle. You just about fall apart when Brett thrusts up into you at a new angle, hitting a spot inside you you didn’t even know existed.

“Brett!” you nearly scream his name as he repeats his action. Brett continues to place kisses along your neck and jaw, whispering for you to come for him.

“You can do it,” Brett murmurs into your ear, “You can do it darling, come for me. Come all over me. I love you. Come for me.”

And you do. You cry out Brett’s name multiple times as your orgasm hits you, writhing in his strong arms that are still wrapped around your body. Brett groans as you clench around him, and that alone is enough to send him over the edge. Brett’s eyes turn yellow and his fangs protrude from his gums as he sends thick streams of cum into your body. As the two of you come down from your high, he presses his forehead to yours. He laughs breathily against your lips and kisses you gently.

“I love you,” he says once more, “I mean it. I really do. I love you.”

A gentle smile spreads across your face. “I love you too, Brett.

But how are we going to tell Scott we had sex in his shower?”

"Miss you. Love you. Bye."

6 years ago I said “no” to him so he got drunk and went to the party where he said “yes” to her. Today they got married. We were best friends for years. I loved him long before I ever considered him romantically. He was the first boy I loved. I wish them nothing but an abundance of happiness. I just can’t watch them have the life he once offered me.

anonymous asked:

My grandma was one of the 60s Beatles girls and she saw them live countless times, and she knows literally everything there is to know about them. Anyway, I brought up McLennon once and she was at first a bit confused as she'd never even considered it, but she then said the more she thought about it the more plausible it seemed. She said it made sense also because she'd always thought it looked like they were singing all the love songs to each other, rather than to the crowd when they performed.

O H  M Y G O D. YOUR GRANDMA IS THE BEST PERSON EVER! Btw, once a friend told her father (who is a the beatles’ fan) that i ship mclennon, and she explained what it was. He firstly was like, ‘ugh…’, so a couple of days later, watching a The Beatles’ concert DVD, he noticed John and Paul’s glances and got like ‘this… tHIS MAKES SENSE’.  

Moral of the story: Everybody ships McLennon.