sorry-this-is-super-shitty

Saudade: Ch3

There was a queasy, sick, miserable feeling in the pit of your stomach. You fluttered open your eyelids, groggily waking up only to realize that you weren’t in your own house. Your eyes widened, taking a moment to recheck that this wasn’t just a dream, looking around. Nothing looked familiar. You began to roll off the mattress when you realized you were completely naked. You instantly were embarrassed and confused, slipping out of the bed and looking around. It was morning, judging by the sunlight shining through the window. You swallowed uncomfortably, trying to ignore the aching pain in your head and attempting to remember something, anything, of how the hell you got here. You closed your eyes tight and then decided to venture out of the bedroom, realizing there was a hallway with an open door leading to the bathroom. You looked around to check if anyone was there before rushing towards it, locking the door, trying to process everything that had happened. You felt your stomach doing flips before you ducked your head into the toilet, puking into the porcelain bowl, feeling absolutely horrible. What the fuck had happened last night?

Steadying yourself on the toilet seat, you staggered up, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, closing the lid and flushing the contents down. You walked towards the sink, starting to wash your face. This was absolutely crazy. That’s when there was a knock on the door and you froze, the only sound between you and the stranger outside being the rushing water flowing into the sink. Well, that was, until your heard your name. There was another knock. “Y/n? Is that you?” How did they know your name? Where were you? You frantically looked around, then grabbed a towel from a shelf, wrapping it around you before opening up the door. When you did, you came face to face with the hottest man you had ever seen in your entire life.

“Woah,” you couldn’t control the amazement that fell from your mouth. “W-who are you?”

“You okay?” he raised an eyebrow. “You look a little sick.”

“I feel miserable,” you admitted. “And I uh, I don’t really remember that much.”

“Wait…” his voice trailed off. “You don’t remember anything?”

“Not at all,” you shook your head. “I don’t know where I am or where my clothes are or how I got here or who you are. All I know is that I feel absolutely miserable.”

“Okay,” he took a deep breath. “Well um, let me go grab you one of my shirts and some shorts. Your underwear too. Just take a seat, I was making breakfast.” He led you towards his living room, setting you down on the couch and handing you a cup of coffee and some painkiller meds. “I’ll explain everything. Hold on.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled. He came back with the clothes and you stared at him confused before he explained that you could change in the bathroom, then come back out and he’d give you the run down. You nodded, changing and staring at yourself in the mirror, wondering what kind of crazy mess you had gotten yourself into, before going back outside and sitting on the couch.

“Well, first off, I’m Brendon,” he laughed. “I’m guessing you’re not a big drinker, huh?”

“I don’t drink,” you narrowed your eyes.

“Well apparently you do,” he insisted. “At least, you did last night.”

“No way,” you shook your head. That’s when it dawned on you. You must have. It would explain why you didn’t remember anything, and why you had a miserable headache, which you now identified as a hangover. “Good lord.”

“Believe me. You drank,” he continued. “So um, we met at this bar last night. We had a bunch of drinks, talked for hours, then came back to my place, and yeah.”

“And yeah?” you inquired.

“We had a little fun,” he explained.

“Fun?” you were still confused.

“We fucked,” he stated rather blatantly. Your face turned completely red.

“H-how many drinks did I have?” you stammered.

“I don’t remember,” he shrugged. “A lot. And you seemed already tipsy by the time I found you, so there’s a likely chance I couldn’t even tell you if you wanted to know.”

“This is bad,” you ran a hand through your hair. “Fuck.”

“Hey, look, I didn’t mean any harm by it,” he insisted.

“No, it’s not your fault,” you reassured. “I just uh, I’ve never done this before. The whole bar, one night stand, disappear in the morning thing. I should probably go.”

“You don’t have to,” he protested. “I mean, I don’t want you to, if you don’t want to. You can stay. I made breakfast and stuff.”

“Oh,” you murmured. “Um, okay.”

“Plus you look really sick, I don’t want you going home like that,” he added. “Especially now that you don’t have anyone to take care of you anymore.”

“Anymore?” you raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Your boyfriend,” he recalled. “The one that broke up with you like a month ago or something?”

“He didn’t break up with me,” you stated.

“You said he left you,” he remembered.

“He left for tour,” you clarified. “He never broke up with me.”

“Oh,” Brendon looked shocked. “Well shit.”

“Speaking of,” you took an exasperated breath. “Uh, do you know where my phone is?”

“No idea,” he sighed.

“That’s great,” you closed your eyes tight. “You know, I don’t want to infringe or anything, but I’m probably still in no shape to go home. Mind if I stay here for the day?”

“No, not at all, absolutely,” he answered quickly. “Stay as long as you’d like.”

“I’m sorry, I just feel super shitty,” you groaned.

“Don’t sweat it,” Brendon insisted. “Let’s go get you something to eat and then you can take a nice shower and just rest for the day. Got it?”

“Yeah,” you nodded slowly. “Thanks so much. Honest. You’re really sweet.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he gave a small smile. “I hope I didn’t um, I didn’t freak you out too much this morning. I know sometimes we do stuff we might regret when we get wasted, and I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable or guilty or anything. I’m sorry, I should’ve-”

“Don’t say that,” you laughed nervously. “I just uh, I can’t actually believe that we, uh…”

“We what?” he raised an eyebrow, wondering what the next part was.

“We had sex,” you swallowed uncomfortably.

“Why? Are you a virgin or something?” he inquired.

“No, no,” you shook your head. “I just uh, you’re like really, really, um, super hot.”

“Me?” he chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Nah, I’m just a doofus.”

“You look like a movie star or something. Way out of my league,” you argued. “I normally look like trash, so I can’t even imagine what I looked like drunk, much less now sick.”

“Don’t say that,” Brendon frowned. “You’re beautiful.”

“No I’m not,” you insisted. “I don’t even make it into the same category as you.”

“Whatever,” he just giggled. “You’re fucking gorgeous, babe.”

“Shut up and feed me that breakfast you keep yapping about,” you teased.

“Of course, my lady,” he joked with a smirk, taking your hand and leading you up off the couch towards the kitchen.

Needless to say, you and Brendon got along as if you had been friends your entire life. He had witty comebacks and silly remarks, flirtatious pickup lines and the funniest jokes, as well as sweet compliments and genuine concerns. You had to keep yourself from staring at him sometimes. You would find yourself glancing at those hands, the tattoo ink engraved in his arm, the way his eyes lit up when he laughed, how his lips curled into a smirk, moments when his forehead wrinkled when he thought hard about something, or how he ran his fingers through his hair. After you had both downed a cup of coffee, some eggs, bacon, toast, and a doughnut, he showed you to the shower. “How do you work it?” you wondered, setting the clothes he had picked out for you on a stool and walking over to him.

“Well uh…” he slid the shower door open and stared for a moment. “I don’t want to get my shirt soaked, hold on.” He quickly slipped the fabric from off his body and then tossed the shirt to the side, leaning into the shower and turning on the faucet. You couldn’t help but stare this time. His chest was gorgeous, his stomach just as amazing, and you felt yourself start to blush just at the thought of it. “How about you give it a feel and tell me if it’s warm enough for you or not?”

“What?” you instantly snapped back into reality, realizing you hadn’t been listening to a word he had been saying.

“The water,” he explained. “I can adjust the temperature if you need it.”

“Oh,” you still couldn’t manage to pry your eyes away from his body. “Uh, yeah sure.”

“Here,” Brendon stepped aside, letting you lean into the shower and reach a hand out to touch the water. “How’s the water?”

“Hmm?” you glanced at him, biting on your lower lip as you watched him run a hand through his hair.

“Too hot?” he asked.

“I don’t know about the water,” you gave a soft laugh. “But you on the other hand…”

“What?” he smirked. “See something you like?”

“Maybe,” you admitted shyly, turning around. You took your shirt off, reaching for your bra strap and beginning to undress yourself, ready to get in the shower when you head Brendon clear his throat rather loudly behind you.

“Ahem?” he announced his presence.

“You’re still here,” you raised your eyebrows, turning around to face him.

“You never answered my question,” he reminded, eyes flickering down to your breasts before pressing his lips together, returning eye contact with you. “How’s the water?”

“I don’t know,” you sighed, dipping a finger into the waistband of your pants, inching it down just below the waist. “Maybe you can help me find out if it’s good enough.”

“What do you mean?” he dared to ask.

“I think you know,” you whispered, taking one step closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him closer. “It’s definitely going to be too hot for me.”

“Yeah?” he raised an eyebrow, sly smile on his lips, gripping your ass tight and making you gasp. “You think you need a little help in the shower, baby?”

“I think I do,” you hummed, closing your eyes for a fraction of a second before opening them back up, staring at Brendon. “I think you know how to make me feel just right.”

“Do I now?” he chuckled, pressing your body closer to him and making it obvious that he had a hard on. “You want me to fuck you in the shower, sweetheart? Make you scream my name? Try to help you remember all the things you forgot last night?”

“Yes,” you whispered, nodding slightly. “I want you to show me.”

That’s all it took before his lips were on yours and you were kissing each other, your hands trailing down his chest, his hands on your back pressing your closer to him, your tongue slipping in his mouth and his fingers toying with the clasp of your bra. You fumbled with the zipper of his jeans and before you knew it, both of you were naked, his mouth on your neck and your fingernails digging into his back, moaning out his name, your legs wrapped around his waist as he carried you into the shower. The warm water cascaded down both of your bodies, and he lined his cock up with your entrance, thrusting into you several times, making you moan out his name. You were so close when he pulled out, forcing you to your knees, instructing you to suck him off. “Goddammit that feels so fucking good, y/n,” he gasped, grabbing fistfuls of your hair and rocking his hips up to your face, the water spraying on his back steadying himself against the wall as your hands gripped his hips, your tongue swirling around his length. “I’m going to cum, and you’re going to be a good girl and swallow it all, understand?”

You bobbed your head up and down, staring at him as he bit down on his lower lip, starting to shake. You slowly began to pull away, sliding your lips all the way to the head, sucking softly before taking him all into your mouth quickly again, hollowing your cheeks, just enough to make him orgasm. He was moaning out your name along with a handful of curses, tugging on your hair, the warm liquid sliding down your throat as he pumped in and out of your mouth. You began swallowing it all, listening to his whispers and mumbles of praises, his fingers tangled in your hair, fucking your face until he was exhausted. When he was done he pulled you up to your feet, then kissed you on the mouth. “You like that?” you murmured. “You like how you taste on my tongue?”

“Mmm but I’d sure love to get a taste of you,” he suggested. He trailed a hands down your chest, giving both of your tits a squeeze before sliding down your stomach, then towards your thighs, meeting in the middle and using one hand to grip your waist, the other to brush past your folds. “So fucking wet for me, babygirl.”

“Please,” you begged. He inserted a finger and you began to moan, grabbing handfuls of his hair as he started to pump it in and out of you, then adding another, sliding them in and out, causing you to gasp. The shower was filled with steam at this point, Brendon’s lips hot on your shoulder, most likely leaving hickeys by the intensity he was using as he sucked on your skin, and when his thumb found your clit, you moaned out his name loudly, cumming around his fingers.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he hummed, curling his fingers as you buried your face in the crook of his neck, feeling the water rush down your hair, his hand slowly withdrawn from your center, catching your breath, watching in a daze as he licked your juices off his fingers, savoring the taste.

“You feel so good,” you mumbled, kissing him again.

“Productive shower,” he joked, and you narrowed your eyes at him playfully, both of you chuckling. “Come on, sweetheart. Let me get you all nice and clean.”

The following moments were filled with Brendon whispering sweet nothings into your ear, or other dirty things about how beautiful you sounded when you moaned his name or how lovely you looked with his cock in your mouth, massaging your body with soap and lathering shampoo and conditioner in your hair, leaving kisses down your back and stomach. It felt like hours, him talking to you, you both kissing, the water flowing down both of your bodies, until finally he suggested maybe you should get out, take a couple more meds, and then rest. You agreed, and he helped guide you out of the shower, snatching a towel and drying you off, then wrapping one around his waist, taking you hand in hand to his bedroom. He flung open the blankets, then curled up beside you, wrapping you in his arms and telling you to get some sleep, fuck the clothes and the meds, covering you both with the warm blanket, reassuring that you’d figure it all out tomorrow.

This Is What Red Looks Like - A Jason Lee Scott Soulmate Imagine

Request: I was wondering if you would write a soulmate imagine for Jason? Like where you have their first words tattooed or maybe you can’t see colours until you lock eyes. Or you could make up your own. - @xxlashtonxjonnorxx

A/N: I combined your requests and just tweaked them a bit. I hope you enjoy this one, I freaking loved writing it! And written in Jason’s point of view because I’m trash for that, blond-haired, blue-eyed dork. :)

Summary: One morning Jason wakes up with strange grey symbols tattooed on his left ring finger, everyone asks him about it. He has no idea where they came from…

Warnings: Swears maybe. Funny, fluffy shizz… in case you’re as much of a sucker for cute as I am. Haha.


It’s another bright day in Angel Grove, Jason made his way towards his friends, blue eyes beaming. If there’s one thing he knows for sure, it’s that life seems to suck a little less with the people you care about by your side.

“Hey Jas, are you ready for that quiz today in math?” Kimberly asked as he came to a stop beside her.

“Not a chance. When do any of us ever pay attention in math class?” Jason replied, earning a laugh and quick nods from the rest of the group.

Suddenly Zack had Jason’s left hand in his, the blond’s backpack falling down his arm. “Dude! Why didn’t you tell us you were getting a tattoo? We’d have gone with!”

“Because I didn’t get a tattoo. What’s your problem? Hit your head a few too many times at the mines, Zack?” Jason playfully punched Zack’s shoulder with his free hand.

Trini snorted at the exchange between her best friends, her eyes land on the mark on Jason’s left ring finger. “If you didn’t get a tattoo, then what’s that?”

Pulling his hand out of Zack’s, Jason glanced at it. His eyes grow wide when he sees the light grey symbols on his finger. “What the hell? Guys, I didn’t get a tattoo. Pearl must have drawn it on me while I was sleeping.”

The other Rangers watched as Jason vigorously rubbed at his hand, trying to remove the symbol with no luck.

“That’s definitely permanent. Maybe it’s a Power Rangers thing and we just haven’t gotten ours yet!” Billy piped up, excitement flooding his voice.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Billy, but wouldn’t it have made sense if we all got them at the same time? And if Jason’s is red, wouldn’t all of ours be our Ranger colors too?” Kimberly asked looking at the others.

Billy considered her words then turned to Jason, “Yeah, you’re right. Well, maybe it has something to do with you being the leader?”

“Kim, your definition of red and my definition of red are clearly two totally different things. This is grey.” Jason answered waving his hand in front of Kimberly’s face.

Trini and Zack let out roaring laughs, both of them clutching their sides. Jason frowned at his friends, “What?”

Zack clapped a hand on Jason’s shoulder, “Oh, Crazy Girl and I just find it extremely hilarious that you think this is grey. It’s red, dude. You need to get your eyes checked.”

“No, you idiots need to get your eyes checked. It’s clearly grey, I should know, it’s tattooed on my hand.” Jason was growing frustrated; first the symbol appeared out of nowhere tattooed on his finger, now the others were laughing at him for seeing a different color than they did.

“Wait! I’ve heard about this happening before. You can’t see the color, but we can. Apparently, your soulmate has the same tattoo and it’s probably the same color. I bet, they can’t see it either.” Trini said hoping to put Jason’s mind at ease.

It was all too weird, but then again, a lot of weird things had happened since the five of them had become Power Rangers. It’s not everyday a group of teenagers saves their small town from being overrun by a psycho alien, at least it hadn’t been before. But this was different and Jason didn’t have any idea what it meant.

He sighed feeling defeated, “Come on, we’re gonna be late for class.”


As he made his way to his locker, Jason was knocked into by someone passing by. Both of their backpacks and a book ended up on the floor.

“Hey, are you okay?” He bent down to help pick up their things.

A dark haired girl smiled sheepishly looking down at her shoes, “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

It was Jason’s turn to smile, “It’s no problem. Good book?”

“My favorite, actually. I always seem to pay more attention to it than where I’m going. Sorry again.”

“It really is no problem.” Jason handed the girl her book.

When she reached out to take it, their fingers brushed against each other. Warmth instantly spread throughout their bodies, pooling in their hands where their fingers touched. Looking down both of them gasped in shock.

“Holy shit!” They breathed out in unison.

Jason opened his mouth to say something but quickly snapped it shut. There was no way this girl, who he had seen around school but never actually met, had the exact same tattoo as he did. They had to be the butt of someone’s sick joke.

“I- You- We-” she began, “Holy shit…”

The two of them looked up, eyes meeting for the first time since bumping into each other. Suddenly they felt a prickling feeling in their fingers and drew their hands back.

Jason was the first to look at his hand and back up at the girl in front of him. The tattoo now appeared to have changed colors - where it had been grey just minutes before, it was now a vibrant color that he had never seen before.

“Jason. Jason Scott.” He introduced himself, holding out his left hand to her.

“Y/N Y/L/N. It’s nice to finally meet you.” She extended her left hand and shook Jason’s, smiling sweetly up at him.

Jason’s blue eyes were fixed on the tattoos that sat on each of their ring fingers, he spoke in a soft tone that he knew only she would hear. “So this is what red looks like…”


What the hell have I done?! This is so cute it’s ugly. I might consider making another one if you really liked it. Sorry if it’s super shitty, haha. I had fun anyway. :)

jezebel-rising  asked:

In the Aka!Kiba 'verse, would Kiba's clan have thrown him out? (like I don't see Tsume doing it, and she pretty much Rules All, buuuut..) And if they DID, for whatever reason, would Kiba then be promptly adopted by Genma, since he's *already* taught Kiba Clan secrets so that makes Kiba HIS, HAHA NO TAKE BACKS wheee! (sorry, it's been a super shitty day and thinking about this fic has kept me from not breaking down sobbing whilst in traffic)

You can apparently read minds, because this is very close to what I’m planning. :D

anonymous asked:

What exactly is the point of a sheepdog having such a long coat, wouldn't it just get mated when their working?

Can’t speak for all breeds, but the point was pretty much to keep them safe from rough weather conditions and to protect them.

In Tibetan terriers, a multi purpose breed that also herd, they definitely aren’t brushed in Tibet. Yes it gets matted, extremely so, but they are often sheared once a year like a sheep basically during the summer, but it’ll be long again in the winter to protect them.

When a dog is a pet, the coat won’t wear down as much as it would if the dog was a working dog. A lot of show people in some breeds really avoid all breakage by bathing very often, banding, etc so the coat does grow longer than it would if the dog was working all the time.
In some breeds it has certainly by exaggerated somewhat over the years because the dogs aren’t expected to work all the time (there’s not enough demand in some breeds anymore either). But in TTs for example, the native TTs from Tibet will still grow full coats when the coat is taken care of.

Sorry if this was super shitty it’s 5am and I’m on mobile whoops

anonymous asked:

Can i request what the wolf pack thinks during sex? Just a quote or two from each is fine. And if that's too many people, you can pick and choose which one's to do. I love your writing and I hope I can continue to read it

A/N: Sure thing, sweetie! Thanks for your preference request and please enjoy what I’ve come up with! :) Sorry if these are super shitty, this is my first time actually writing something like this.


What The Twilight Wolf Pack Thinks During Sex:

Sam Uley: “Yes, just like that, (Y/N)’s so tight and wet.

Paul Lahote: “I love the way (Y/N)’s face contorts like that when they come. Only I can be the only one to that to them.

Jared Cameron: “I love that face they make when I pound into them and they beg me for more.

Jacob Black: “Everything about (Y/N) is perfect when their pretty little face is flushed and I’m fucking them so hard.

Embry Call: “If I keep going at this pace, I won’t be able to control myself.

Quil Ateara: “(Y/N) definitely loves this.

Seth Clearwater: “I love that expression the most; the one where (Y/N)’s just a fingertip away from her release.

Leah Clearwater: “They taste so sweet on my tongue, the way they moan and beg for more just get’s me going.


Please keep requesting imagines! If you like it, please follow more.

3

I keep posting things kinda late at night.  Oh well.  Anyways, have some ships.

[Some JTWifi ( @thelastpilot ) snuck in with the DJWifi, also some breakdance au ( @starrycove )]

[Also, side note, happy birthday to me!  I’m now an official adult (not really aaaaahhhh)]