#Motivation Wednesday

[kc22invesmentsblog]

Wednesday Motivation: Accountability - The Foundation of Leadership and Financial Success

Written by: D. Marshall Jr Accountability Is Key, Are You Taking Ownership of Your Actions? It’s easy to want the rewards of leadership, but are we willing to take accountability when things don’t go as planned? Leadership isn’t just about accepting praise when things are going well, it’s about standing firm, owning mistakes, and making changes when necessary. The same principle applies to our…

[spitinsideme]

wanted to mess around a bit with coloring and i madr it gay because .. wenclair .. is amazing ..

[da3drat]

green knight screenshot redraw hehe. I don't want to talk about how many hours I spent making imperceptible expression tweaks trying to capture Dev Patel's big scared wet eyes.

[bearotonin-international]

The team’s having a terrible awful really really really f*cking sh*t miserable day so this bearotonin is entirely for us

[lookforanewangle]

tidbit tuesday

tagged by the wonderful @sofa-king-lame! here's a snippet from my orpheus & eurydice!buddie fic that will also deal with getting chris back from texas :]

“Eddie?” Helena says, startled. “What are you doing here? What happened?” “Nothing’s wrong,” Eddie says, fingers fidgeting with the ziploc Buck had sent him with. Only a few cookies are missing; Eddie hadn’t been able to choke down more than two or three before he felt like he was going to hurl. It's not the cookies themselves—cookies are one thing Buck has always had a handle on—but nerves and doubt had whipped his stomach into a frenzy. He’s starving now, hours after they’d worked their way through his system, but his sole thought had been get to Chris. “I just—I need to talk to Chris,” he explains. “These video calls haven’t been enough; I want to see him.” “Eddie,” she sighs, “you can’t just show up out of the blue and expect—” “What, like you did?” he bites. Helena frowns. “I’m sorry,” he says softer, “I don’t want to fight. I just need to speak with him, Mom.” “Even if I wanted to let you in, he’s not here,” she says. “He’s out with Ramon and won’t be back for another hour or so.” “I can stay,” he pushes. “I don’t have anywhere else to be.” “Seeing you that late…especially unannounced? It’s just going to upset him, Eddie. Maybe we can try on…on Wednesday?” “Wednesday?” Eddie echoes weakly. “That’s…that’s two days away.” “Chris has chess club tomorrow after school and we have dinner with a friend. Yes, I think Wednesday would be best. You could stay for dinner. But Chris might be able to spare a few minutes tonight once he’s done with homework before bed, if you wanted to give him a call.” “I can’t even tell my own son goodnight?” he asks, bewildered. “Eddie, you know that’s not what I mean,” she says with a huff. “You’re more than welcome to call him—” “But I’m here now, in person, to see him. I could just stay—” “And you are going to upset him,” she interjects sternly. “There’s a reason he hasn’t asked to come home yet, Eddie.”

no pressure tagging @fastcardotmp3 @eddiebabygirldiaz @boasamishipper @sharpbutsoft @wordsonamission and anyone else who wants to play! if you see this, consider yourself tagged ;)

[shivunin]

WIP Wednesday

I will start, since I haven't seen any yet today c: I would love to see what you're working on, but no pressure @elfroot-and-laurels @greypetrel @layalu @inquisimer @pinayelf @ndostairlyrium @star--nymph @chanafehs @bitchesofostwick! And since I thought I posted some of this somewhere but can't find it, here's a bit of a fic about Teia and Viago immediately post-"Eight Little Talons." This is pure Tevinter Nights era, no Veilguard spoilers of any sort.

(Teia/Viago | 599 Words | CW: Suggestive language)

A cabinet opened in the kitchen, followed by another. 

“Not that one,” she told him, and stepped into the candlelight of the next room. “Do you want a hint?”

He wouldn’t. Not her Vi. Too stubborn—too proud. He would search every cabinet in her kitchen and pretend he’d always intended to drink straight from the bottle when he found nothing there. 

“I can—” he began, but turned to look at her and stopped mid-sentence. 

“Can you?” she asked. He cast her a disapproving look that did nothing to disguise the heat in his eyes. 

Here. He was here. And she…

“You don’t want even a little help?” she asked, producing two wineglasses from behind her back. “And here I thought we worked so well together.” 

Slowly, Viago closed the cabinet before him. Slowly, he leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms. His walking cane leaned against the counter beside him, looking as innocuous as something could when filled with a dozen vials of poison, acid, and Maker knew what else. It did not surprise her that he’d come here armed. There were at least three daggers on her person right now, after all. They were Talons; this did not mean that they took their safety for granted. 

“Any tests you’d like to perform on them before we drink?” she asked, stepping closer. She’d left off her shoes, so she moved almost silently over the familiar floorboards. He watched her all the way, almost entirely still. If she hadn’t been watching the muscles in his upper arms twitching, Teia might have thought he was entirely unmoved. 

“My arm is still bruised from the adder,” he said, and lifted a gloved hand to touch the spot in question. “If you wanted me poisoned or dead, you could have let me die then.”

“Ah, but what if someone infiltrated my rooms, poisoned the wine rims, and snuck out the window?” she smiled at him, feeling the brush of the loose skirt against her calves when she stopped just before him. “What would you do then, Vi?” 

He was looking at her mouth. He’d done so before, with his hand pressed to her chin. He’d slid one of his mixtures over her lips with his gloved fingertip, so slow and thorough that there’d been no mistaking his attraction to her for anything else. 

She wanted him to touch her. Not just his forehead to hers, his thigh pressed hard between her legs while they rocked against each other. Teia wanted his bare skin—unwound, unbound from the layers of protective clothing—pressed to hers. It had felt too good before. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. She wanted him to be as desperate, as distracted as she was. 

Viago said nothing. He looked down at her, perfectly still. 

Come on, she thought. She shifted closer—just close enough that the hem of her dress brushed against the leather of his trousers. 

He moved fast, she had to give him that. She would have been faster if she’d wanted to be, but she didn’t. She wanted him to do exactly what he was doing now: pressing her back against the counter, hips flush with hers. 

“What then?” Viago asked, lowering his head until his cheek was only an inch from hers. He’d taken the glasses from her hand when he’d spun the two of them around. Now he reached past her, taking the bottle from the counter. She listened to the wine fill one glass, then the next. 

“Then you will have to find another antidote,” he said, voice low and silken. 

[safe-ship-harbored]

sparkle on

[dustyblinds]

wip wednesday ‼️

[malikat24601]

The night that everything changed was like any other Sunday night in late September. Eddie was at home, trying his damndest to actually finish his homework, this is gonna be my year and all that. He had one more page of godforsaken algebra to finish before he could slam the textbook shut, get a little high, and go to bed at a respectable hour (before midnight is respectable for a person of his age, he figured.) He had just made himself a little snack and was about to light up when the phone rang. Ambling over, he picked up the receiver, tucking it between his shoulder and his ear as he turned back to reach for his plate.  “Y’llo?” he greeted through a yawn.  “Eddie? Son?” It was Wayne. Wayne, shaken, a cold dread in his voice. Eddie dropped the plate, straightening up and gripping the phone tighter to his ear.  “Wayne? What’s wrong? Where are you?” He listened carefully, trying to quell the panic building in his chest. “I’ll be there, just… stay right there, I’ll fix it.” Eddie raced out of the trailer to his van, heedless of what he was wearing, barely taking the time to slam his feet into whatever shoes he found first piled up next to the door. It took everything within him to mind the speed limit as he raced across town, but the last thing they could afford was more trouble in one night. His heart was hammering in his chest a mile a minute, and Eddie wouldn’t be able to breath until he got to his uncle, made sure he was safe. And so he drove, heart in his throat, through the midnight dark streets of Hawkins, to the gilded gates of Loch Nora.

Oh no, WAYNE!! Wip Wednesday, yall, coming soon!

Wild Rose 🌹

A modern (86 Baby) Retelling of Beauty & The Beast

[intotheelliwoods]

A SPECIAL WEEK IS COMING AGAIN! This ones.. a trip. Get tissues get blankets the stampede of emotions starts Monday the 17th, at 8:30 EST.

The week event is so intense theres a whole playlist for it aha....

[she-moon-on-my-jelly-till-i-fish]

its wilson wednesday!!!!

[skyrim-forever]

WIP Wednesday

Hello everyone, it's another wednesday :) Thank you so much to the lovely @hircines-hunter and @umbracirrus for tagging me, lovley to see your wips

Tagging: @theoneandonlysemla @firefly-factory @throughtrialbyfire @bougainvillea-and-saltwater @changelingsandothernonsense

@lady-iizsil @sheirukitriesfandom @captain-of-silvenar @thequeenofthewinter @dirty-bosmer

@lucien-lachance @pocket-vvardvark

This week I bring you a snippet of Theo's grown up children. The general plot is her youngest, Ceridwen (Ceri) is bringing her Telvanni boyfriend home from the College of Winterhold to meet the family. This is a little scene over dinner where the girls (her brothers) are fighting :P

“What school is your focus?” Ricardo asks him. 

“Illusion.” Ralos answers. “I started off with Destruction but found it was for not me, whereas Ceri was the opposite.”  The eldest of the three speaks. 

“I’ve always found mages to be too caught up in their theory, not unlike this one.” He gestures to his brother. “They tend to forget life is much more than what’s written in their books.” His brother rolls his eyes. 

“You are surrounded by mages. By Auri-El, you, yourself are a conjurer.” Arthano’s brows furrow.

“That’s different.” He puts a hand to his chest. “I use an axe.”

“A bound axe.”

“And yet, it can cut through bone the same.” Ricardo grimaces at his words. Their father, Ondolemar as he’s told Ralos to address him as, pours himself more wine, sipping before speaking. 

“Boys, cannot you not be civil? At least for your sister’s sake? We have a guest, and need I remind you that you are family.” Both men look down. 

“I can be civil if he keeps thoughts like those to himself.” His fork goes into the salmon. “But must he wear the armour during dinner?”

“You didn’t complain about the armour when I protected your defenceless ass whilst you were transporting those books from the University of Gwylim last summer.”

“That was different, those were first editions, very valuable. Very attractive to the right individual.” Ricardo says exasperatedly. His brother chews his food for a bit, seemingly dropping the topic. 

“You know.” He has a sip of mead. “For someone who is a pacifist, you sure did worry about getting beaten up a lot. If only there was a way for, I don’t know, you to defend yourself? I suppose we can only dream.” 

“Boys, enough.” They ignore their father’s command as the younger of the two doubles down. 

“Why is it that Ceridwen is the one in Skyrim, yet you come back behaving as a brute from a backwater province?” Everyone’s eyes are wide at the brash comment. 

“Is that so?”Arthano stands up from the table but doesn’t get a chance to respond as a woman’s voice is heard. 

“Ricardo.” This must be their mother he thinks. She approaches, shorter than the rest of the family, yet still taller than him. Ricardo and Ceri share many of her features, dark hair, rounder features. Seeing her parents side by side now, as their mother takes the empty seat next to their father, he can definitely see the resemblance. Ceri and her older brother were very much a blend of the two, if in opposite ways. Her voice booms. “We do not refer to other lands as backwater provinces. Lest you forget if it was not for Skyrim, none of you even exist.” Turning away from where he was, she addressed the eldest. “And Arthano, must you provoke your brother? Especially at dinner, a dinner for your sister.”

“I’m sorry Ceri and mother and father.” He sinks back in the chair. Ondolemar speaks up. 

“Now apologize to each other, you both are more than capable of compromising."

“My apologies, brother.”

“Likewise, brother.” Their father serves her salmon while she looks directly at him. 

“And my apologies, both for my sons and for being late. Dealing with some work that dragged on much longer than I anticipated.” She flashes him a warm smile. “You must be Ralos, Ceri has written much about you.”

[eternally-tired-muffin]

please take this in honour of season 2 (which I haven't watched yet... whoops)

[itsmaats13]

[somegrumpynerd]

Me: Oh boy only one more day of work and then I have a day off and I can do what I want :D

The terrible rat who lives in my brain, 10 minutes before midnight: if you don't listen to abba and draw Dream and Blue right now I'm hitting the self destruct button

[psycohousecat]

Getting the toe beans ready to tackle humpday with a big morning stretch .. 😎