#let him find his footing

[julikobold]

I'm not even through season 2 yet and I'm already fed up with people (eg. Deaton) expecting Derek to be a great Alpha right from the start.

That's like having this guy in a family owned company.

He was never supposed to take over the business and that was fine with him. He'd rather stay on the technical side of things instead of handling all that management and HR stuff.

But then something bad happens and he is the only one left. He never wanted to be CEO but if he doesn't take over, this company that has been his family's everything would be lost.

He needs more personnel but people don't want him to hire the staff he thinks fit his vision, but expect him to work with this one person who'd rather go to his biggest competitor. Although the competitor made it very clear that the person is not welcome and will never be.

Additionally this competitor does everything to destroy all that is left of the company.

Instead of support, what he hears from former business partners is that everything was so much better with the former CEO, who probably had the right education, proper training and an established staff. But hey, new CEO, why aren't you as good?

That doesn't even take into account the trauma and grief surounding everything that happened to Derek's family.

And then others are surprised he is not a people person.

Really?

[art-from-the-juice-box]

gen loss dump part 2 :]

i have a gen loss playlist so the last two was me hitting randomize and drawing a pic based on the song before it finished. the second one technically isn’t that cause charlie’s inferno isn’t on apple music cause they hate me so it’s way more of the song out of spite because they wouldn’t give it to me.

[lifesver]

keep also thinking about a particularly fucked scene of leland getting tossed in a freezer w body parts already in it, waking up and just fucking freaking out, hyperventilating, slamming at the lid trying to get out. when he does get out there just being , bodies wrapped in plastic, freezer burned staring at him from the walls of the cold room. forcing himself to get up, think about his friends. anyway he gets really claustrophobic after that and a lot of his nightmares later are about the cold room.

[hirokiyuu]

look at my alternate yuu concept boy

[stevethehairington]

was going to try to write today but instead i have spent the last hour thinking up tattoos for eddie to have

[armenelols]

For after the Last Battle and the overthrow of Morgoth, when the Valar gave Elros and Elrond a choice to belong either to the kin of the Eldar or to the king of Men, it was Elros who voyaged over sea to Númenor following the star of Eärendil; whereas Elrond remained among the Elves and carried on the lineage of King Elwë.

Note 19 - And also that of Turgon; though he preferred that of Elwë, who was not under the ban that was laid on the Exiles.

- Problem of Ros, HoME XII

Every once in a while I remember this passage and am sent spiralling into the orbit.

Elrond saw the disaster that were the Noldor and went 'nope, I am staying out of that drama. Sindar, here I come' and he's so valid for it. Living up to the as wise as a wizard. He looks at the elven side of his family tree, goes 'do you think I am stupid' and chooses the least problematic branch.

[captainofthetidesbreath]

absolutely spoken like someone whose career in piracy ended (possibly very recently) because his boatswain, lover, and partner in warlock shenanigans tried to ritually murder him after she identified his distrustful hesitation and disillusioned exhaustion and considered it weakness and cowardice

[yourbuerokrat2]

With Q constantly invading Picards private space and the overall closeness and fixation I think it would be a given that once in a relationship with Picard (friendship, qpr or romantic) where he would be allowed to actually touch him even if it’s only a hug or having his arm across Picards shoulder he would be very much into PDA and quite physical. 

[carbonateddelusion]

on a show of hands who here remembers how possession works in the 80s universe it was SO long ago I'm assuming none of you do

[ghostwise]

During my weeks with covid I wasn't getting much done, but I'm finally feeling well enough to catch up on these :) Tagged for wip-whenever by @scionshtola @lavampira and @creaking-skull!

Thanks friends 💖💖

I'll tag @sunshinemage @s1ithers @ruushes if you're up for it 💖 I am not sure who is or isn't tagged so if you have something to share please consider this a tag!

I'm feeling more comfortable with the decision to add the Adelmar visit to QDT (now titled Matacuervos). It's giving me a chance to delve more into that subplot, and in doing so it's tying more closely to the overall plot. Here's a little peek at some very raw writing from it.

-

The sounds of the brothel floated in through the open door, and Zevran sat in his chair, impassive. He raised a brow, but otherwise did not react to her gesture. Truth be told, he had no idea what to say. He hadn’t expected to be met with so much resistance, and his intuition was telling him there was some reason why Amilcar was desperate to get him gone. But the thought was interrupted as a familiar voice floated through the door.

“Husband?”

Hamal had evidently grown tired of waiting out on the street. With a smile, he sidled in through the door, amidst a background chorus of delighted exclamations from the patrons and employees nearby.

“Husband!?” Amilcar repeated, scandalized.

Hamal simply smiled at her. “Very little Antivan, sorry,” he said awkwardly. “Everything good?”

“I was simply,” Sra. Amilcar said, her voice terse and jumping from syllable to syllable, “Telling your husband that, unfortunately, we cannot accommodate his request.”

Zevran, still seated in the same spot, glanced between Hamal and Sra. Amilcar. Part of him was mortified at the tone the woman was taking with Hamal. Part of him was desperately curious to see how Hamal would handle it, though, so he remained silent, making himself at home in the discomfort.

“Ohh,” Hamal said, and then repeated, “Sorry! Very little Antivan, very bad.”

With that, he stepped close enough to wrap an arm around Zevran with a grin.

“We are married! On honeymoon. I will pay everything. Is good. We are honeymoon! A gift!”

He pressed a kiss to Zevran’s cheek. By now, the discussion had drawn the attention of others, who erupted into cheers at the declaration. Zevran could no longer hold it back; he burst out laughing, under Hamal’s confidence and attention, and the way the prostitutes shouted encouragement and praise. What a doting husband! What a thoughtful gesture! Were they open to adding a third?

Sra. Amilcar had grown quite pale. Swaying a bit on her feet, she seemed to steel herself before taking a deep breath and shouting, “I will call the city guard if you do not leave, NOW!”

[transsexualprophet]

this is also just partially because i got rsd this afternoon from the guy im seeing but also im right and i should get to kill

[samuraisharkie]

why is Ronnie Williford so bland at speaking 😭😭😭 I want to take these classes but he speaks in such a way that just does not engage me

[thedawningofthehour]

if that were the case leo still wouldn't be able to go trick or treating bc draxum would forbid it lmaoooo draxum would be the equivalent of those christians who hate on halloween for being “demonic”

Draxum would be the adult who hands out apples to children. He turns off his light at eight PM sharp and gets so annoyed when Halloween falls on a school night.

He's probably the parent who checks their children's candy for razor blades and poison and legitimately believes people are handing out weed brownies to kids. Then when everything passes the test he lets them pick One(1) candy each and the rest gets 'donated.' (to Huginn and Muninn, who consider annual candy offerings to be part of their salary)

Sorry, he's an only child, he never learned how to share </3

[bibleofficial]

walked up to my cousin’s step son after the wedding to see if he was doing ok & i was like ‘what u up to :D’ & he said ‘i got a new pet !’ & we looked at the table to see a yellow jacket he caught under the cup, which he described as a bee …. APPALACHIA

[feelgoodinct]

nsfw, mdni.

simon becomes an absolute dog when he sees you in his shirt.

cw: possessive simon, sex on carpet (ouch), unprotected p in v, creampie, size kink (?).

simon is a good roommate. he’s organized, clean, pays rent on time, and minds his own space. the only thing is—roommate is hot. stupidly hot. you know he doesn’t have a girlfriend and he’s never once brought back a girl let alone mentioned one. you figured your little crush on him would pass like all the other (it does not). you start dropping hints that you find him attractive. like wearing your tightest tops, brushing your ass against him while reaching for a cup, even leaving one of your lacy thongs to mix in with his laundry. he never bites the bait. you start to think that maybe he just doesn’t find you attractive or even worse he finds you creepy. so you tuck your schoolgirl crush away into the cavity of your chest.

you close the washer with your hip, cradling your laundry basket back to your room. you hear the familiar turn of your front door lock letting you know simon is home from his morning gym session.

you pad into the living room to ask simon if he needed any clothes washed. simons back is turned from you when he begins to slip off his trainers, dropping his gym at the foot of the door.

“need any clothes washed? i’m starting a load up right now.” you ask eyeing the movement of back muscle underneath his compression shirt.

he finally turns to you and starts to respond “nah don’t think-“ before he snaps his mouth shut when he sees what you’re wearing. “that mine?” his voice gruff, it’s his army issued shirt that is long enough to cover your shorts. a deep green color that frays at the hem and has his last name in bold at the back of it. you notice he’s staring at the worn fabric waiting for an answer.

you look down, “oh yeah. sorry was doing laundry found this in hamper. my clothes are in the wash. hope that’s okay?” you sound apologetic like you just did something unforgivable. jesus christ what were you thinking wearing his shirt without asking. you shift trying to ease your embarrassment.

he’s on you in three short strides. making a noise between a growl and snarl. you don’t know how or when you both ended up on the living room floor. frankly, it’s the last thing on your fucking mind now that you’re on your knees cheek pressing into the shag carpet. you can feel the heat of his stare between your legs. you get a glimpse of your shorts and panties strewn across the floor leaving you in his shirt. you wait with bated breath for him to touch you. you wiggle your hips in a silent plead to get him to do something, anything…everything.

he gives the flesh of your ass a heavy smack that has you clenching around nothing. “be good now.” is all you hear before the sting leaves an angry red mark that you know is gonna leave you wincing for the next week. simon smooths a hand over the back of your (his) shirt making a noise in the back of his throat.

you hear shuffling behind you before you feel the head of him catch on to your opening making your mouth gape like a fish out of water. he groans at the contact, kneading the fat of your hips, before he presses in painfully slow with a hiss. you whimper into the carpet, fists balling, feeling hot all over. your cunt pulses trying to make room for him inside your womb.

“i know. i know, pretty girl. almost there.” simon bites back a hiss when you clench at his words. you think you might die like this. laid out on ugly apartment carpet trying to take simon’s cock. you could cry with relief when you feel simon’s balls meet your clit letting you know he’s all the way in. simon lets out a guttural sound bordering on animalistic at the sight of you speared open on his cock, last name across your back, absolutely crying for it.

he fists the bottom of the shirt to keep you still and eases his hips back just to sink back in slowly. the pressure in your navel hurts so good it’s starting to make you dizzy. simon sets a pace that has you trying to cant your hips back to meet his thrusts. he lays a heavy palm in the middle of your back, just under the boldened ‘RILEY’, keeping you pinned giving you no choice but to take what he gives you.

“prettiest fuckin girl i ever seen. gonna give this cunt the proper treatment she deserves, yeah?” he bends his left leg, somehow sliding in deeper. there’s no doubt that you can feel him in your lungs. “s’deep simon.” you slur, reaching a hand back to weakly press against his stomach. he chuckles at the act taking both wrists into one of his hands pressing them at the small of your back, forcing you into a deeper arch. you sob at the change in angle. your nipples being rubbed raw by the friction of his thrusts.

“needed this real bad, huh? don’t worry baby. i’ll make sure you don’t go without it again. wearing those tiny tops think i didn’t notice.” his voice rough and deep behind you. “uh huh.” you reply without a second thought, you don’t even care that you’ve been drooling into the carpet or that you’ve been caught. simon gives a deep chuckle at how pliant you’ve become just from some good dick.

he knows your close by the increasing volume of your sounds. he never lets up his pace determined to give you his all. “where?” he asks in a quick breathe. you take a few seconds to register his words. “huh?” you manage to squeak out. “where do you want me, pretty thing?” he says in an almost pained voice. the gears turn in your head before you speak up “inside. want it inside. m’clean. pill.” resorting to short clipped words. you beg, as if you have to, simon thinks.

your orgasm comes hard and fast leaving you sobbing out garbled version of please and simon. simon is not far behind burying himself as deep as your bodies will allow and comes inside with a pinched “oh fuck.” he pulls out with a pop and watches his spend leak down your slit leaving a small puddle on the floor that he knows he’ll have to scrub out later.

simon pats your backside affectionately. “don’t think we’ll be doing any laundry today” he says with a grin that makes you giggle. “yeah, don’t think so.”

[sigh-tofm]

when they come home drunk…

… price

- thinks it’s important that he loudly tells you he’s married while you steady him upstairs to bed. points to his ring incessantly, slurs on and on about his perfect wonderful wife with the big ass and soft tummy. you roll your eyes and can’t help but smile when he doesn’t let you hold on to his arm to support him. something about protecting his virtue for his wife, as if you’re not standing right beside him. proceeds to lock you out of your own bedroom when you finally get upstairs, telling you his wife will be home soon so he can’t have a strange woman in their bedroom (but still remarks on your wonderful ass). you decide it’s too early in the morning to persuade your drunk husband to let you in, so you go down to sleep on the couch. you wake up with price sleeping soundly on the floor beside you, having gone to find his wife when she never showed up in his bed the night before.

… kyle

- gets sappy and apologises for being away. loses all concept of time when he’s drunk, says he’s sorry, he didn’t mean to be away so long, he was thinking of you the whole time, the guys pulled him along and he couldn’t say no. while he’s on his knees at your feet, pressing his face to your thighs and mumbling into your marbled skin, almost making you lose your balance with his fervent apologies, you gently remind him that you were the one who made him go out with the boys because he needed to unwind after a stressful weekend of combat drills, and that he had left with them less than two hours ago. he refuses to hear and only hugs your thighs closer, so much so that you have to support yourself on the wall. turns out all he needed to relax was you.

… johnny

- is horny. almost starts drooling when he eyes you at the top of the stairs, after struggling to close the entrance door for a good minute, causing you to investigate what made all the noise. gets a wild look in his eyes when he sees you in just his t-shirt and makes you scream and giggle as he chases you back up the stairs and to the bedroom. being absolutely shitfaced, he has the coordination of a tranquillised moose and stumbles head over heels across the floor, catches his foot on the doorway and narrowly misses the edge of the dresser with his head as he falls. still, his little soldier is courageously tenting his pants when you worriedly lean over him and he gets a good look right into the collar of your shirt.

… simon

- is emotional and clingy. can’t get enough of you, won’t leave you alone. you can’t make out half his words when he’s had this much to drink (and the mancunian in him breaks out too, making it ever harder to make out the words), but you play along, smile and nod and let him sit on the closed toilet seat and talk and talk while you do your night routine in front of the mirror. so lucky to have you, luv. how could’a lug like me get a pretty one like you, luv. his melancholy statements of love become comfortable background noise for you as you remove your makeup and apply moisturiser. lets you wash the sweat and grime of the day off his face with a washcloth, closes his eyes while you massage your floral-scented moisturiser into his skin, never once stopping his little speech. ambles after you out of the bathroom, holding on to the hem of your shirt, when you’re all finished and ready for bed. his devoted mutters only let up when be falls asleep next to you.