22, female, nz in love with sterek Little lonely like half of tumblr Trying to stop trying to please my mother
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this lemur didn’t seem pleased that i was taking photos of him
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Whoever came up with this idea is a genius and has my eternal love.
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vine
The Question We Always Ask Ourselves 💭 (Feat. Jim Cummings)
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There’s something particularly ironic about discussing Vine’s imminent shutdown on the platform owned by the company shutting Vine down.
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“Omg every girl is gonna be Harley Quinn for Halloween” every guy has been batman for like 94 years shut the fuck up you insufferable toe
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Puya Alpestris “Sapphire Tower”
A species of bromeliad native to the Chilean Andes. It grows about two feet tall and two feet wide and has narrow, dark green leaves with large teeth surrounding the leaf margin. It has a flower spike that rises from the center of the plant and produces brilliant teal blue flowers. Likes full sun and will tolerate most soils as long as they are not too wet. Hardy down to 18F or -8C.
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Another woman utterly failed by our society’s devaluation of women’s reproductive health. We can’t wait around for male doctors to decide what we need to know. This is why we need to take control and educate ourselves about our own bodies.
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Watch: Amber Rose proves you can be sex positive and still like vanilla sex
Sometimes it can be really easy to conflate sex positivity with an interest in casual sex, group sex, or high libido. But Amber Rose is living proof that sex positivity just means respecting and loving your own taste in sex.
WATCH THE FULL INTERVIEW
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Beautiful Ballet Portrait Of Performers Claiming The Streets Of NYC
Ballet is an intimately physical art that has been merged with the beauty of music, photography and dance, captured by Puerto Rico born, NYC-based photographer Omar Robles’ camera on the streets of New York city.
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every single negative stereotype about women was dreamt up by men who were projecting. fight me about it.
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Sterek (T) 6.5k, A/B/O dynamics, themes of loneliness, Online/real-life relationship conflicts, you’ve-got-mail kinda thing, office AU, ASMR
Unbetaed.
For @zerosince1982 who is such a cheerleader and I’ve never rewarded you for it.
Honestly, who wouldn’t want to be an alpha?
The evolution of alpha-Omega dynamics from taboo to an accepted, openly-discussed subject has been the result of countless theses, documentaries, social activism and - in recent years, though most academics are loathe to admit it - even reality shows. Derek still remembers being a kid and having it explained to him, sitting in the back seat of his mother’s car on the way to some practice or recital or other, talk radio bravely broaching the subject with a guest therapist. He was nine and oblivious, but he’d been at least observant enough to know that Laura’s recent presentation as alpha had been cause for celebration.
Alpha: good, everything else: disappointing.
“But when do we know?” Derek had frowned, scuffing his feet off the back of the passenger seat. His mom was stopped at some traffic lights, the rhythmic swish of her windshield wipers ticking her thoughts over. Derek thinks now through age and hindsight, she must have been picking the right words
“You’ve been learning about your body changing in school, right?”
He’d nodded, sitting straighter. One of her dark eyebrows arched in the rear-view mirror.
“Well around the time that happens - when you’re Laura’s age - you’ll find out. And-” She turned in her seat, emphasising the next part - “-your dad and I will love you no matter what, okay?”
“Okay,” he’d replied trustingly, shrugging back at his mother. What did he have to worry about? It was years away, and besides…
No-one ever thought he’d end up also presenting as an alpha.
__
Moving away wasn’t so bad. Lots of people did it for a whole host of reasons - a job, a change of scene.
Love.
See, when you’re a werewolf, and someone in your family, from your generation, presents as an alpha… it creates a power flux. Laura still loved him as her baby brother and he would literally die for her if she asked - but their baser instincts were always going to be at war, telling that wild part of their brains to fight and to dominate and to rule. It mostly went unnoticed to humans. Maybe siblings would be a little more competitive or scrappy; maybe they’d feel an uncanny desire to be away from each other. For werewolves, it could literally rip packs apart.
He presented while Laura was off at college. It was bittersweet, especially for their mom, who thrived at big family gatherings and wanted everyone close. It couldn’t be like that as often as she would have wanted now.
Derek made the decision to be the one to relocate while looking at college applications. He’d never really felt an affinity with their family’s territory like Laura did, and it had always been understood that she’d inherit their mother’s mantle. Derek had been trained as a beta - an advisor. That job was Cora’s now.
“You could always try the suppressors,” Cora had told him, her voice defeated like she knew the answer already - results were patchy at best, and for a werewolf to try and screw with his own nature was just a recipe for disaster.
“You’ll have somewhere to come visit? Might help when you hit your teen angst phase and decide you hate Mom and Dad,” he’d joked, prompting the desired eye-roll. He’d probably miss her the most.
It really wasn’t so bad, in the end. He got himself a great degree from a decent school and an even better job. He visited for the holidays and he and Laura figured out a balance for the few days they’d spend together; it was a testament to their love for each other that they were able to do that.
Moving gave him an opportunity to learn about himself, and about what being a ‘free alpha’ meant when he didn’t have to concern himself with bloodlines or territorial allegiances.There were troves of information - academic and, ahem, pornographic - for him to delve into. Studies into ABO dynamics were becoming more widely talked about, recorded and curated instead of being a quick, awkward conversation with a parent or friend, or some grainy footage from experiments in the 20th century.
Derek learned what he liked (exercises in control; scentmarking everything he owned; omegas with non-stereotypical dispositions), and what he didn’t (being domineering to the point of cruelty; heat-sex with strangers) both in and out of the bedroom. He found that, for all of his cliche alpha tendencies, he had others that weren’t so easily categorized.
He was bisexual, for a start - most alphas had their one preferred gender and that was it - and he preferred to keep indoors during Heat Week. He also struggled with anxiety and insomnia, and even saw a therapist about it when a crucial work deadline pushed him close to breaking.
That’s where SSOmega24 came in.
During one of Derek’s more frantic searches for sleep aids in the wee hours of a morning, he discovered the world of Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response, or ASMR. It seemed to be a lot of weird videos where people whispered nonsense and turned pages or lightly tapped stuff, meant for relaxation… but it kind of worked. He’d never known there was a name for the phenomenon, but the description of a tingling response radiating down the neck and seeping tension out of the body, triggered by certain sounds, was incredibly accurate. He was asleep within minutes.
After, Derek became more familiar with the genre. He didn’t need it every night - his job kept him busy enough and he tried to keep active and fit, so sleep wasn’t always a problem - but nights when his brain wouldn’t turn off and his eyes hurt from reading countless reports, it was useful to call upon. He found, even the sound of another person’s voice speaking nonsense was a comfort at those difficult times when his hormones betrayed him and the ache for contact got just a little too sharp.
There were ‘artists’ with followings who seemed to be experts, but the trouble was that lots of the video seemed to lose their effect after a certain amount of views, and he had to go deeper. He learned that this was a common side effect depending on how ASMR sensitive someone was - he was at the less-sensitive end of the spectrum, and needed outside, specific stimuli to elicit the sensation. There were only so many white noise playlists he could stand before they took a toll on his hearing.
Then, he found roleplays. Videos with a purpose or a scenario acted out by the ASMR artists. Some were even alphas who used calm, authoritative tones to trigger the Subdue response in others. Derek soon learned that the letter in square brackets after a title denoted the artist’s status. There were ‘consultations’, ‘haircuts’, lessons and story times. On a whim - and out of his own curiosity - he searched for something…else.
There were a host of Omega ASMR artists online, which made sense. Typically, they were classed as coy, precious darlings, deserving of protection from their alphas. Most seemed to be playing characters, even dressing up for the purposes of their videos in the battle for views, and they all had relaxing scenes like spa days or massages. Derek tried a few, but couldn’t seem to buy into their roleplay - until one.
The thumbnail seemed to call out to him; a young man’s clavicle and chest in grayscale, the simple title Omega Roleplay [O] announcing the subject. The guy’s skin was pale and smooth, lit by daylight and speckled with moles here and there with a particularly inviting little cluster right under the collar bone, just above a patch of chest hair that was both endearing and sensuously masculine at the same time. In the subconscious hope that he’d get a guilty little peek at the long, graceful curve of neck promised in the pose, Derek clicked in.
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Whimsical Quilled Paper Designs by Sena Runa
Istanbul-based artist Sena Runa (previously) creates stunning quilled paper designs, which lend themselves to colorful compositions and a quirky imagination. Composed of a multitude of vibrant hues and pastels Runa’s pieces are the basis of intricate geometric designs, which are installed into larger figures.
Mainly constructed from a variety of different shaped circles, she proves to have a knack for color theory and composition. Each hue complements the swirl and movement of each shred of paper.
After developing her untapped talent, Runa quickly quit her job in HR to pursue her artistry full-time. Her unique and swoon-worthy technique has gained popularity for its beauty. You can buy her paper sculptures in her Etsy shop.
View similar posts here!
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my beautiful friend maria, @living-in-exile has been having kind of a rough time due to some meanies, so i put on my big girl pants and finally got on the b-day fic i promised to write her, like, fifty years ago. so happy belated birthday hon and remember you’re beautiful and i love you
fic based off this post
His mom is going to kill him.
“Are you comfortable back there, son?” Sheriff Stilinski asks.
Derek swallows compulsively and manages a shaky, “Yeah.”
Forget killing him, his mother is going to make him watch the toddlers during every full moon for the rest of his life.
Derek turns his wrists to feel the give of the cuffs, wondering just in how much trouble he would get if he broke them and jumped out the window.
Here’s the thing: Derek Hale considers himself a good kid, and he knows a handful of teachers, family members and older folks in the Beacon Hills community that would agree that he is, in fact, a good kid.
He always tries his best at school, has a decent GPA; always tries to make his mom proud by never getting into trouble like his siblings are prone to; he always tries to help everywhere he can, he’s lost count of how many yards he mowed for only a piece of candy and a pat on the cheek, how many random kid’s shoelaces he tied, how many people he helped cart groceries around, how many tiny animals he rescued from trees.
All in all, Derek Hale is a good kid.
Or he thought he was until today.
Because today Derek is riding in the back of the Sheriff’s cruiser with his wrists in handcuffs.
The Sheriff’s phone goes off.
“Excuse me,” the Sheriff says, pulling the car to the side of the road and answering it. “Stiles I’m at work, what do you-“ there’s a pause. “Yes, I know I’m late for- I’m just taking a seventeen year old to the station, I’ll be home in a- what?”
The Sheriff twists to look at Derek. “My son is asking if you’re cute.”
Derek can feel his face flame up. “I’d like to think so, sir.”
The Sheriff starts laughing. “He likes to think so, kid,” he says to the phone. “Wait- no, Stiles, don’t-“ he pulls the phone from his face and looks at it with a frown.
Derek watches through the grid as the Sheriff throws his phone on the passenger seat.
“I apologize in advance for my son,” the Sheriff says and oh no.
Oh, no.
“Stiles is going to be there?”
“’fraid so. Is that going to be a problem, son?”
“No,” Derek chokes out. “No problem, sir.”
After all why would there be a problem in Derek’s crush of two years seeing Derek get brought into the station by his own father for what is possibly the lamest reason ever? There’s no problem in that, honestly.
Derek thunks his head back against the seat and tries not to groan.
It’s bad enough that Stiles doesn’t give him the time of day, it’s bad enough that Stiles sneers at jocks and piles Derek along with them, always thinks Derek is messing with him when he stutters his way through trying to ask Stiles out.
Derek thunks his head back against the seat again for good measure, trying to figure a way out of this mess, but before he can, the cruiser comes to a stop in front of the station just as Derek sees the Jeep come down the street.
This is it. This is how Derek Hale blows his chances to ever date Stiles.
The Sheriff opens the back door and helps him get out, leading him into the station with a firm hand wrapped around his arm.
“Look, kid, you don’t have to be this nervous. It’s your first misdemeanor and you’re still underage, you’re leaving with a slap on the wrist.”
“Right.” Derek swallows as the Sheriff sits him down on a bench outside his office.
“Now we just need to wait for your mom and you can-“
“Yo, Daddy-o,” Stiles’ voice calls out and Derek winces, sliding down the bench and trying to make himself as small as he can because maybe, just maybe Stiles won’t see him and this won’t be a- “Is that Derek Hale?”
Well, fuck.
“You know him?”
“Yeah, we share some classes,” Stiles says casually, looking down at Derek with a smirk. “So what is he in for? Joy riding in his sweet Camaro? Skinny dipping in the park’s lake?”
Derek’s eyebrows climb up his forehead and the Sheriff turns to him with a frown.
“I swear I never did any of those, you can ask my mom, I’m always home on time!”
The Sheriff turns his raised eyebrow to Stiles.
“He’s in for trespassing. I found him in the Whittemore’s backyard.”
“Ohmygod,” Stiles breaths out, face contorting in anger, “if you’re helping Jackson cheat on Lydia wi-“
“What?! No!” His voice goes embarrassingly high pitched and he winces at himself.
Smooth Derek, smooth.
“Then why were you in the Whittemore’s backyard,” Stiles asks suspiciously, leaning forward and Derek will not get a boner, he will not, this is not sexy at all and it would be a really bad time for a boner.
“I’d like to know that too, son,” the Sheriff says, staring him down.
“I-“ Derek chokes, feeling his cheeks heat up. “Do I have to tell in front of him?” he asks, jerking his head towards Stiles.
Stiles face morphs into a smirk. “Is it embarrassing?”
The Sheriff cuffs him upside the head and Stiles yelps.
“No, you don’t, we can go into an inte-“
A meek meow interrupts the Sheriff and Derek groans, hitting his head against the wall behind him.
“Was that-“ Stiles starts looking around jerkily, trying to find the sound.
The kitten meows sadly again before it starts wailing and both Stilinskis focus on the general area of Derek’s chest.
“Son, are you meowing?” the Sheriff asks, clearly trying not to laugh.
Derek slides down the bench, which jolts the kitten in the inner pocket of his jacket and the poor little thing meows loudly again.
“There was a cat stuck on the tree,” he mutters, feeling the blush heat up his cheeks and down his neck.
“Ohmygod,” Stiles coos and this is horrible, this is the worst thing that ever happened to him and he once broke his leg in three places falling down a tree.
“Let me get this straight, you trespassed into the Whittemore’s backyard because there was a kitten stuck on the tree.”
“Yes,” Derek mumbles and wishes for a hole to climb into when the Sheriff starts chuckling.
“Can I?” Stiles says, bouncing in place like a five year old and Derek is so gone on this boy that he just nods his head and lets Stiles open up his jacket and scoop up the kitten, holding it in his palms and cooing at it.
Derek looks up at him and feels something warm and fuzzy unfurl in his chest.
“Oh Christ,” the Sheriff says, making Derek jerk his gaze back to him and then blush violently. “Come here, kid, let me take those cuffs off of you.”
Derek turns and lets the Sheriff do it, rubbing his wrists a little, more for appearances than anything.
“Where’s my son?” his mother’s steely voice cuts through the station and Derek’s head immediately snaps to her, watching his mom walk towards him like she’s on a hell path.
Oh no.
“Derek, baby, are you okay?”
“I’m fine, mom,” he mutters, helpless to do anything but let her cradle his cheeks and turn his face, looking for damage. “Mom, really I’m fine.”
The Sheriff clears his throat. “Ms. Hale, there’s nothing to worry about. No charges are being pressed and this isn’t going on his permanent record.”
His mother glares the Sheriff down, every bit the alpha that she is. The Sheriff holds her gaze steadily.
“I still want to know why you felt the need to drag my son in here like a criminal, Sheriff Stilinski.”
The Sheriff nods once curtly, and steps back gesturing towards his office. “Why don’t we continue this conversation inside?”
Talia holds his gaze before she accepts the open invitation and enters the Sheriff’s office.
Derek looks after her, hoping she doesn’t go too hard on him.
“So,” Stiles says, plopping down on the seat next to him. “Derek Hale, captain of the basketball team and co-captain of the swim team, climbs trees to rescue tiny kittens and is a helpless momma’s boy.” Stiles grins at him but there’s something different from the other grins he’s given Derek so far. It’s softer, a little more open.
Derek can’t help but smile back.
“You’re kinda cute, Hale.”
“You’re really cute,” Derek blurts out and then winces.
Nice going, Derek, smooth as hell.
Stiles smiles at him, something that crinkles his eyes and feels real. “Yeah?” he breathes out.
“Yeah,” Derek says.
«»
Derek is in heaven, his soul has ascended and all he needed was Stiles Stilinski pressed up against him just so and kissing him like it’s going out of style, mindful of the kitten that fell back asleep in Derek’s pocket.
Someone clears their throat loudly and Stiles flails so hard he almost falls out of Derek’s lap and he would have if it weren’t for Derek’s hand on his back.
“Hi, Dad,” Stiles squeaks out.
“Son,” the Sheriff says slowly, “would you mind getting off of Derek.”
“Sure, Dad,” Stiles says and gets up, coughing awkwardly.
Derek does his best impersonation of a statue.
“And Derek.”
“Sir?”
“I expect you for dinner on Friday.”
Derek swallows. “Yes, sir.”
“And I expect to see you at lunch on Sunday, Stiles,” his mother says, and it’s Stiles’ turn to squeak out a yes. His mother smiles serenely. “Good. Sheriff Stilinski, it was a pleasure to meet you, I have a feeling we’ll be seeing a lot of each other in the future.”
«»
Derek keeps both the kitten and Stiles, and gets laughed at by Laura for the rest of his life, but it’s alright because he’s got Stiles and that’s enough to get him through anything.
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