Derek on his hands and knees on a chair where he's sucking off his dom who has such a huge cock derek can barely fit it in his mouth so he just sloppily licks and sucks on the tip and then just let's the pounding he's getting from behind push his mouth onto the big cock in his face
post/94676915603 gawd, I need a ficfest about this pic. Is this Derek undercover at an underground werewolf exploitation club? Maybe, maybe he went in looking for Braeden or the Sheriff when they told him to wait in the car? If only he'd waited till he was secured under collar and leash but now he's there all foolhardy lone wolf and there's some incense in the air that makes his nose itch, his eyes grow lidded and heavy, his body languid and unmoored. 1
Derek would find himself weaving brokenly into the strong back of a suited stranger. The man would chuckle good-naturedly. “Well you look expensive. Where’s your owner?” Before affectionately scruffing Derek’s head, running pleasing fingers down his spine before cupping his ass, then back up briskly scritching Derek’s chin. Derek would pool into the man’s grasp, nosing into the woven fabric at the man’s shoulder, blissful with the warm-eyed attention of this gruff stranger. Some small part of him protests the treatment, wants to curl up in shame. That part of him is drowned by sensations of good, of melting pleasure. It doesn’t take long for the spectacle of a new, pretty uncollared wolf to draw attention. He’d end up tumbled to the club owners feet, pinkly overheated at being so responsive to being treated like a prized pet. Which leads to Derek being bundled off to a private room where he’s displayed to the VIP for money and favors. He’d be feeling so good he’d be preening when they spread his legs to admire his erect cock. His cock would jolt up to his belly when they tweaked his nipples, murmured appreciately over his thick chest thatch, told him he was meant for pleasure. They’d test the plummy depths of his mouth and he’d lave their fingers in gratitude. He’d be this debauched, eager, pup eating up all their concerted attention. As the night went on various VIP would tip him generously for his easygoing congeniality, until it soon became a game to finger, fondle and fuck his luscious cock into spurting all over those crisp hundred dollar bills. Derek would end the night passed out, pampered in a dog bed underneath the club owner’s desk. Course the whole time Braeden was taking care of business, and once she’s done she collects Derek, as according to plan. Cause he’s the cloak and she’s the dagger of the operation. End
Oh my GOD.
Anon, please write. A scene of this? I need the scene of him finally coming all over himself, upper lip all dotted with sweat, eyelashes spiked with it. The SOUNDS he would make. He pretty way his body would just be all open, chest bared for it.
I want to watch as Derek gets fucked and he has to keep looking in the mirror cause the dom says so, and When he sees himself he looks so vulnerable and lost as his dom pounds into him and basically derek hale looks like a lost puppy when he's fucked into the ground
“If someone were to die at the age of 63 after a lifelong battle with MS or Sickle Cell, we’d all say they were a “fighter” or an “inspiration.” But when someone dies after a lifelong battle with severe mental illness and drug addiction, we say it was a tragedy and tell everyone “don’t be like him, please seek help.” That’s bullshit. Robin Williams sought help his entire life. He saw a psychiatrist. He quit drinking. He went to rehab. He did this for decades. That’s HOW he made it to 63. For some people, 63 is a fucking miracle. I know several people who didn’t make it past 23 and I’d do anything to have 40 more years with them.”—
This should be everywhere. Yes, you should try — there are many ways to get actual help and sometimes it can take forever to find it. It took me 20 years and even then all “help” means is that I can make it through one day to get to the next.
But this is still a disease and sometimes the diseases win no matter what you do to eek out a little more time.
Title: Pretend to be Just Passing By Fandom: Teen Wolf Rating: PG Summary: It’s good, Derek thinks, looking into golden eyes for the first time in a week. It’s right. Spoilers: Everything up to Weaponized. Can be seen as a coda to the episode A/N: turnonmyheels, this isn’t quite what you asked for, but close?
After learning my flight was detained 4 hours,
I heard the announcement:
If anyone in the vicinity of gate 4-A understands any Arabic,
Please come to the gate immediately.
Well—one pauses these days. Gate 4-A was my own gate. I went there.
An older woman in full traditional Palestinian dress,
Just like my grandma wore, was crumpled to the floor, wailing loudly.
Help, said the flight service person. Talk to her. What is her
Problem? we told her the flight was going to be four hours late and she
I put my arm around her and spoke to her haltingly.
Shu dow-a, shu- biduck habibti, stani stani schway, min fadlick,
Sho bit se-wee?
The minute she heard any words she knew—however poorly used—
She stopped crying.
She thought our flight had been canceled entirely.
She needed to be in El Paso for some major medical treatment the
Following day. I said no, no, we’re fine, you’ll get there, just late,
Who is picking you up? Let’s call him and tell him.
We called her son and I spoke with him in English.
I told him I would stay with his mother till we got on the plane and
Would ride next to her—Southwest.
She talked to him. Then we called her other sons just for the fun of it.
Then we called my dad and he and she spoke for a while in Arabic and
Found out of course they had ten shared friends.
Then I thought just for the heck of it why not call some Palestinian
Poets I know and let them chat with her. This all took up about 2 hours.
She was laughing a lot by then. Telling about her life. Answering
She had pulled a sack of homemade mamool cookies—little powdered
Sugar crumbly mounds stuffed with dates and nuts—out of her bag—
And was offering them to all the women at the gate.
To my amazement, not a single woman declined one. It was like a
Sacrament. The traveler from Argentina, the traveler from California,
The lovely woman from Laredo—we were all covered with the same
Powdered sugar. And smiling. There are no better cookies.
And then the airline broke out the free beverages from huge coolers—
Non-alcoholic—and the two little girls for our flight, one African
American, one Mexican American—ran around serving us all apple juice
And lemonade and they were covered with powdered sugar too.
And I noticed my new best friend—by now we were holding hands—
Had a potted plant poking out of her bag, some medicinal thing,
With green furry leaves. Such an old country traveling tradition. Always
Carry a plant. Always stay rooted to somewhere.
And I looked around that gate of late and weary ones and thought,
This is the world I want to live in. The shared world.
Not a single person in this gate—once the crying of confusion stopped
—has seemed apprehensive about any other person.
They took the cookies. I wanted to hug all those other women too.
This can still happen anywhere.
Not everything is lost.
Naomi Shihab Nye (b. 1952), “Wandering Around an Albuquerque Airport Terminal.” I think this poem may be making the rounds, this week, but that’s as it should be. (via oliviacirce)
When I lose hope in the world, I remember this poem.
and when i first saw it i was like “aww Nat jumping into steve’s lap that’s so cute she’s like AHH STEVE SAVE ME” and then i was thinking ‘well she probably realized he’s way stronger than she is and could help shield her if they crashed’
but then i kept watching it and i noticed how she immediately pulls him forward
and first i thought it was the momentum of her jump but you can clearly see in the gif how she gets settled (quickly) THEN pulls him close to her
and then i realized
that is a bullet hole.
Nat somehow knew EXACTLY where Steve was gonna get shot at, jumped up into his seat, and saved him
Natasha Fucking Romanoff
she didn’t just jump in the front just to save steve, tws shot at her first
she also pushed sam away from the bullet bc she knew he’s next
all of this in the span of 3 seconds how fast do u think her brain works i mean DAMN
“I first wound up in a panel of women who do fan art and fan fiction surrounding the current TV incarnation of Teen Wolf. And you know what they were like? They were a lot like every other panel of geeky young writers I’ve ever seen. They spoke intelligently and thoughtfully about writing and creativity and what they like and don’t like to make art about. They talked about the responsibility they feel when they write about mental illness and thoughtfully chewed over the idea of creating transgender characters to add to what’s sort of a preexisting universe. They rolled their eyes at a video that was circulating in which Teen Wolf actors were placed on the spot and asked to read fan fiction aloud for yuks, shrugging it off as a cheap effort to make actors uncomfortable on camera and get them to dump on their own fans.”—Linda Holmes, an NPR writer who apparently stumbled into our panel last Friday totally by accident and said the nicest words ever uttered about me and my six new best friends by a total stranger (via magneticwave)
1. Putting themselves first. When Barbara Walters asked Michelle Obama if it were selfish that she openly makes herself her first priority she responded: “No, no, it’s practical…. a lot of times we just slip pretty low on our own priority list because we’re so busy caring for everyone else. And one of the things that I want to model for my girls is investing in themselves as much as they invest in others.”
2. How little or much they’re eating, especially if it’s “unhealthy.” You can eat a big lunch without having to say “I haven’t eaten anything all day” or have some delicious ass nachos without saying “I totally deserve this, I was so good this week, I’ll start the diet again tomorrow.” More importantly, you shouldn’t have to always be interrogated with “that’s all you’re having?” or “you’re going to eat all that?!”
3. Healthy eating as a means of actual health, not weight loss, because for some reason, people tend to be skeptical that a woman could actually just want to treat her body right and not be perpetually concerned with her size.
4. Not having baby fever. You aren’t more or less of a woman– or person– if having a child isn’t for you now or ever. You shouldn’t have to back it up with the reasons you’re not maternally inclined but will maybe consider it down the road because “who really knows– maybe someday!” when you do really know that you don’t want kids but don’t want to be glared at like a heartless monster.
5. Having baby fever. Nobody should have to face a flurry of interrogative questions when they proclaim that they do indeed want to have children young, because it’s just as acceptable to feel that way as it is the alternative. If you want to travel, you’ll travel. If you want to pursue a career in addition to motherhood, pursue you shall. As long as you are aware of the implications, no further justification to other people who don’t feel the same way is needed.
6. Whether or not they’re having sex, and to what degree. There doesn’t have to be a reason that you slept with so-and-so, and you don’t have to feel obligated to give an excuse for why you’ve been celibate.
7. Enjoying what would otherwise be called guilty pleasures because they’re “girly” things. They don’t have to be “guilty” pleasures, they can just be pleasures. You can enjoy getting your nails painted and wearing a skirt and re-watching 13 Going On 30 a thousand times without floundering in stereotypes.
8. “Looking like shit today.” Whenever a woman leaves the house looking anything less than airbrushed and runs into someone they know, they tend to feel the need to apologize for it. You don’t have to apologize to someone else for not being a certain way, you have to apologize to yourself for feeling like you had to in the first place.
9. Experimenting with sexuality. It doesn’t have to be because you were “lost and confused” or just “a wild crazy girl in college.” If you made out with a girl at a party because it was the cool thing to do, fine, if it was more than that, just call it for what it was.
10. Weight, because size actually does not determine what “a real woman” is or not.
11. Amount of makeup worn on any given day. If you want to rock it au naturale, you do that, you beautiful little thing, and if you want to work it like you’re in a drag show, you can do that too. Your face. Your rules.
12. Sometimes conventionally frowned upon clothing choices. You don’t have to say you wear leggings “because they’re so comfortable” or a really short dress because you’re just “being crazy tonight.” These things require no explanation, and you shouldn’t let other people pressure you into feeling as though they do.
13. Being upset about something that warrants an emotional response. You don’t have to apologize for feeling something or acting out on it if it’s real to you. The people who judge you for being a human being, and not being ultimately demure and emotionless and in your place, are the ones who need to apologize.
14. Moving for a relationship if one is invested and ready… or just putting a relationship first if it’s a healthy and happy thing or something you want/need to work on. There’s a big difference between being dismissive and walked on and stepping up and taking part as an equal in a relationship, a role that usually requires compromising and effort.
15. Wanting to get married young.
16. Not wanting to get married young.
17. Attractiveness despite something. You don’t have to justify your so-called-imperfections with that which you like about yourself– you aren’t attractive because you have great hair despite being a little overweight. You can be attractive without fitting into social conventions of it. The beauty continuum scale was constructed to make us all feel like shit and buy a lot of products to fix that. But beautiful is as beautiful does.
18. Passing social deadlines for things. Who cares if you’re 35 and as single as you were 15 years ago? Life doesn’t start when someone or something comes along and then society says it can. You don’t have to make excuses as to why you aren’t married or with child or working a traditional 9-5. Our lives weren’t meant to be scripted the same way. When you adopt someone else’s narrative, it’s because you aren’t hearing your own clearly enough.