James McAvoy / Prada presents the ‘Behind the Scenes’ video of its Fall/Winter 2014 Menswear Campaign.
Mercedes Jones in Every Episode
∟1.21 “Funk”You’re not angry. You’re hurt. You just need someplace safe where you can dig through all that rage. Get to the pain beneath it. So it’s decided. Saturday you move out of Puck’s house and you move in with me. I already talked to my mom about it.
Amazing, Hyperrealistic Paintings Of New York City’s Subway System
Created by Japanese artist Hisaya Taira
These. Are. Paintings???
This is everything to me!
#but just look at the way he holds her #pulls her closer to him #their bodies fitting perfectly together #her head resting on his shoulder #and she’s been waiting for someone to comfort her #hold her #she’s been waiting for stiles #because she remembers how it felt when she turned to him at the school when she saw aiden had died #how she could run to him #she hasn’t forgotten #and stiles pulls her close again remembering too #his hand tangled in her hair #their hearts beating together #and for a moment they’re the only two people who exist in the world
And then there is a day when Derek wraps his fingers around Stiles’ neck and squeezes. Stiles’ heart stutters in his chest, happy and eager, thumping along with the waves of warmth radiating from Derek’s fingertips and seeping under Stiles’ skin.
"Will you keep me?" Trembling, wild sounds in sharp contrast with the fact that Derek is the one holding Stiles in place, making the boy’s spine arch just so as Derek presses his naked body flush against Stiles’.
It’s a feeling that, sometimes, still makes Stiles’ cheek turn a warm shade of red, makes his head spin when Derek pushes him against the bed and covers Stiles’ body with his. “You must be crazy.” He laughs. Trembles and laughs and swallows back tears, air burning in his lungs when Derek’s thumb travels up to his pulse, possessively pressing against it.
Maybe them both are, crazy and reckless and absolutely lost, living on borrowed time, watching the sun rise and set countless times, too many to keep count and yet- “Will you?” It’s almost a growl now, a harsh sound that claws its way out of Derek’s throat. “Stiles.”
When Derek’s teeth close around the tender spot at the base of his throat Stiles does nothing to stop him, melts instead under the slightly painful pressure as if that’s where he belongs. Pale and fragile and caged by Derek’s never ending power. "Yes," he breathes out, heart beating steadily. "Yes.”
He jumps, and knows that Derek will catch him as he falls.