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annewithaneofthegreengable · 3 days

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Could you do fic for Toto Wolff with wife reader? He is still doing his world even when he had the days off, so she came with a plan in mind. She presses kisses anywhere available; arms, nose, knees, ears, knuckles, temple, just anywhere to distract him enough to stop. Eventually their son, Jack does the same to him. Just something fluff and romantic. Thanks!! :)))

So yeah I know it's a bit late but enjoy it and PLEASE PLEASE SEND ME SOME OF YOUR BRILLIANT IDEAS ALSO!!! I AM VERY THANKFUL FOR IT.

This year’s race schedule marked the 8th race in Monaco with just a decent result for the Mercedes Team with just P5 for George and P7 for Lewis. Despite Lewis adding up with one more bonus point for the fastest lap, the team still ended in fourth place, with no hope really for the world’s constructor running. The lack of progress and consistently poor results were taking a toll on their morale. Toto Wolff, the team principal, knew that something needed to change. As he sat in his office, pondering the team's predicament, there was a gentle knock at the door. Y/n, Toto's wife, entered the room with a concerned expression. She had noticed the stress and strain on Toto's face and wanted to offer her support. "How are you holding up?" she asked softly.

Toto sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's been tough," he admitted with a weary voice. "We just can't seem to get a breakthrough this season. The car's not performing. It feels like we're failing further after every race. And as the team principal, I just don’t want to let everyone down. Especially Lewis I owe him his 8th title. I just wish there was something I could do to turn this thing around.” Y/n stepped closer, her heart aching for the man she loved. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, offering a small gesture of support.

"It won't be like this forever," she said softly. "You'll figure it out. You always do, remember when I told you not to set the hot lap in Nurburgring in a Porsche and you still did anyway. You are just as stubborn as that because the Toto Wolff I know will not back down from any challenge even the stupidest one. So go team Wolff!”

Toto glanced up at his wife, her words a lifeline in the storm of challenges that faced him. He could see the earnestness in her eyes, the unwavering belief in him. It stirred something deep within him, a flicker of determination. He reached out, taking her hand in his, and squeezed it gently. "Thank you for believing in me, Schatz. And well I did pay a hefty price for the accident that day on the Nordschleife track.”

Y/n smiled softly, her eyes filled with love and admiration for her husband's resilience. She knew the heavy price Toto had paid for his passion for racing, the sacrifices he had made, both physically and emotionally.

"I'll always believe in you, no matter what," she assured him once more. "And I know you'll rise back up from this. You've got the strength and the determination to do it." She leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her husband's forehead, all the way down to his arms, nose, knees, ears, knuckles, and temple - anywhere she could reach. Much to her delight, Toto couldn't resist her affection and stopped working to enjoy the moment. Just at that moment, their son Jack ran into the room, stomped his little feet and demanded that he could join his mom and dad. He planted a sloppy kiss on Toto's cheek, making him laugh and forget about work completely. Toto's heart swelled with love and contentment. He leaned back in his chair, gathering his family in his arms, and took a moment to savour the precious moment. "Thank you," he whispered, feeling grateful for their love and the reminder that there was more to life than just work. Jack snuggled against him and smiled. "We missed you, papa," he said softly. “Can we watch a movie together?” He asked with excitement, a twinkle in his eyes.

“Of course, Jack.”

“Can we watch Cars? I wanna see Mcqueen go vroom vroom so fast like Uncle Lewis.”

“Sure, baby. Now how about we race downstairs?” Y/n said.

Together, they raced down the stairs, Toto and Jack's laughs echoing through the room. At the bottom of the stairs, Jack cheered as he reached the finish line first. "I win!" he exclaimed, panting and out of breath but smiling widely.

liked by mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton, georgerussell63 and others

y/n_user Movie night in the house 🤭 Guess what are we watching tonight?

user_1 Jack!!!

user_14 next movie for movie night! please!!

mercedesamgf1 send us the invitation also Mr Big Boss, Baby Boss and Mrs Tiny boss

user_2 the Wolff fam

lewishamilton Roscoe miss u Jack

y/n_user we miss Roscoe too lewishamilton playdate tmr? y/n_user Jack said yessss charles_leclerc Leo wanna join too y/n_user pls join us tmr

user_6 playdate with the wolffs, hamiltons and leclercs said no more

georgerussell63 can I join 🥺

mercedesamgf1 and us too? scuderiaferrari us three redbullracing us four astonmartinf1 us five mclaren us six y/n_user how about a playdate at the paddock 🥳

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sunkissed-zegras · 2 hours

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★ ALWAYS AN ANGEL, NEVER A GOD ─── CC²² (part 2/2)

❪ requested -> "Can you write something about cc and reader being enemies and hating eachother. but they are on two different teams so they play against eachother and something happens during one of their games and they take their hate out on eachother with smut?" ❫ part one!

─ warnings | nsfw under the cut, read at your own discretion. lots of shit talking, just rivals shit yk how it is. fingering but it's kinda soft (like the actual fucking part), lots of praise and a sprinkle of degradation (if u can even call it that) cause u know me.

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!

EVER SINCE THE GAME AGAINST Iowa, you were determined to keep up the keep up the momentum and prove that your victory was no fluke.

In the weeks that followed, you poured your heart and soul into every practice, honing your skills with a relentless intensity that left your teammates in awe. Every drill, every scrimmage, every mere second on the court was a chance to improve, to get one step closer to your ultimate goal (you weren't sure what it was at this point, to prove yourself to Caitlin or the world).

But it wasn't just about proving yourself on the court. Caitlin's words lingered in your mind, a constant reminder of the unresolved tension between you. The memory of that heated encounter in the hotel hallway replayed in your thoughts, the desire and frustration mixing into a potent cocktail that fueled your determination.

You found yourself replaying the moments of that game over and over in your head ─ the way you intercepted Caitlin's pass, the exhilaration of your dunk, and the look of pure rage in her eyes (and of course, the kiss that followed). You thrived on those memories, using them as motivation to push yourself beyond your limits.

"Good job, Y/N!" Hailey called out during one particularly grueling scrimmage, her admiration evident in her voice. "What, did you have an energy drink before or what?"

You gave her a playful shove as you shrugged, wiping the sweat from your brow as you walked toward your water bottle. "Just trying to stay ahead,"

Hailey shot you a knowing look, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips. "This isn't just about staying ahead, is it?" she teased. "It's about Caitlin."

"You can't say her name out loud like that," you joked as Hailey laughed. You didn't bother denying it, the truth too obvious to ignore. "Maybe," you admitted, a hint of a smile tugging at your lips.

As the season progressed, your hard work began to pay off. You dominated the court with a newfound confidence, your skills shining brighter than ever before. The media took notice, your name becoming synonymous with excellence, just like Caitlin's.

But even as you basked in the glory of your success, you couldn't shake the lingering thoughts of Caitlin. You wondered how she was doing, whether she was training just as hard, whether she thought about you as often as you thought about her.

You kept repeating the moment in your mind, over and over again, feeling some kind of weird excitement at her words.

"I'm not fucking you until we win," she replied, her voice low and husky, the words a mere whisper against the charged silence that enveloped you both. "Until I get the trophy, until your team loses."

However, you knew that pushing her buttons would make the hook-up a whole lot more satisfying. You thought about that particular part a lot more than you should have, the challenge in her voice igniting a fire within you that you couldn't ignore.

Then, one day, the schedule for the next season was released, and there it was ─ the match against Iowa, the game that would determine once and for all who would come out on top. The date was set, and you felt a surge of excitement and nerves at the prospect of facing Caitlin again.

The weeks leading up to the game were a whirlwind of preparation and anticipation. Your coach pushed you harder than ever, knowing how much was riding on this matchup. And through it all, Caitlin's words continued to echo in your mind, a constant source of "motivation", if you could even call it that.

Finally, the day arrived. The arena was packed, the energy palpable as fans from both sides filled the stands. As you stepped onto the court, your heart pounded with adrenaline, and your eyes scanned the crowd until they landed on Caitlin.

She stood across from you, her dark gaze intense and unwavering. You could feel the heat of her stare, a silent promise of the battle to come. As the referee signaled the start of the game, you took a deep breath, centering yourself for what was about to unfold.

From the very first whistle, the game was a fierce clash of skill and determination. You and Caitlin matched each other move for move, your rivalry playing out in a series of fast breaks, sharp passes, and contested shots. The tension was palpable, the crowd hanging on every moment as the score remained neck and neck.

As the clock wound down, the score was tied, and the pressure mounted. You found yourself with the ball, Caitlin guarding you closely, her eyes locked onto yours with a mix of challenge and desire. With a quick move, you faked left, then darted right, driving towards the basket with all the speed and agility you could muster.

As you drove towards the basket, Caitlin moved to intercept your path. With a swift motion, she blocked your shot, sending the ball ricocheting off the backboard. The force of her block knocked you off balance, and you stumbled, falling hard onto the court.

You hit the ground with a thud, the impact jolting through your body as you landed awkwardly on the hardwood floor. Pain shot through your limbs, but it was nothing compared to the sting of defeat that washed over you in that moment.

Caitlin stood over you, her dark gaze intense and unyielding as she glared down at you with satisfaction and you hated it. There was a silent challenge in her eyes, a reminder of the relentless rivalry that defined your relationship both on and off the court ─ you could practically read her mind, "I'm getting the trophy."

As the referee blew the whistle to signal a turnover, Caitlin offered you a hand, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips. "Good try, Y/N," she taunted, her voice laced with a hint of amusement. "Maybe you should uh, stick to defense."

As Caitlin extended her hand towards you, a smirk dancing on her lips, something inside you snapped. Maybe it was the sting of defeat or the frustration and anger that had been building within you throughout the game, and you couldn't hold it any longer.

With a scowl, you swatted Caitlin's hand away, ignoring the lingering pain in your limbs as you rose to your feet on your own. "Shut up, Caitlin," you spat, your voice dripping with venom as you glared up at her. "You're just a self entitled bitch who thinks she owns the court,"

"I do," Caitlin stepped so she was directly in front of you. You looked up at the brunette, suddenly feeling small under the weight of her imposing presence. Despite the anger that simmered beneath the surface, you couldn't deny the intensity of the moment as Caitlin's dark eyes bore into yours.

"You don't get to talk to me like that," she continued, her voice low and dangerous, a warning laced with barely contained fury. "And didn't I tell you to cut the fucking attitude?"

You just scoffed, however some sick part of you liked this, the way she was talking to you. As much as you wanted to deny it, there was a certain allure in the challenge she presented, the promise of tonight making the whole thing a lot harder to resist.

Caitlin's proximity was overwhelming, her presence towering over you. You felt a surge of defiance rising within you, fueled by the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

"And what if I don't?" you shot back, your voice laced with defiance as you met her intense gaze head-on. "What are you gonna do about it, Caitlin?"

Caitlin's jaw clenched, a flicker of anger flashing in her eyes before she regained her composure. "You wanna find out?" she retorted, her tone sharp and cutting as she leaned in closer, her breath hot against your skin.

You felt a rush of heat flood your cheeks, a mixture of fear and excitement swirling in the pit of your stomach. Despite the tension between you, there was an undeniable thrill in the air, a palpable energy that crackled between you like electricity.

But before anything could escalate, Hailey's arm yanked you away, breaking the charged moment between you and Caitlin. The sudden interruption jolted you back to reality, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins as you were pulled back into the flow of the game.

With a sharp exhale, you forced yourself to focus, pushing aside the whirlwind of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you. The game had resumed as quickly as it had been interrupted, the intensity of the match returning with renewed vigor.

But despite your best efforts, Iowa proved to be a formidable opponent, their skill and determination matching your own at every turn. As the final seconds ticked away, the score remained neck and neck, the outcome of the game hanging in the balance.

And then, with a final buzzer, it was over ─ Iowa emerged as the winners, the thrill of victory evident on their faces as they celebrated their hard-fought win. As the reality of defeat sank in, you couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment, the bitter taste of loss lingering on your tongue.

"God fucking damn it," you muttered under your breath as you glared toward them.

As if on cue, Caitlin turned around and met your gaze. Her expression was satisfaction, a silent acknowledgment of the victory she had secured over you and your team. You felt a surge of frustration rise within you, the bitterness of defeat stinging like a fresh wound.

──

"Y/N?" The reporter's voice pulled you back into reality as you shook your head, opening your eyes with a very forced smile.

You nodded your head. "Yeah, sorry. Zoned out, uh... can you repeat the question?"

The reporter gave you a sympathetic smile before repeating the question. "I was just asking for your thoughts on the game and the performance of both teams, particularly Caitlin Clark. She had a standout performance tonight."

Yeah, of course she fucking did, you wanted to shout but you just nodded. "Yeah, she played a great game," you replied, your voice steady despite the turmoil brewing beneath the surface. "She's a talented player. Iowa put up a tough fight, and they deserved the win tonight."

The interview was slow and it felt every answer you were giving was fake but you were livid. As soon as it was over, you practically ran out of there. You needed to blow off some steam, and you had no idea how–

Oh.

You had forgotten about the entire thing until that moment and despite all the anger, your stomach twisted in excitement. However, it was a year ago and you weren't even sure if Caitlin meant what she said, she was probably just really angry because of how the game ended, much like how you were feeling right now.

As you mulled over the memory, a sense of longing washed over you, mingling with the lingering anger and frustration that still simmered beneath the surface. Despite everything, despite the rivalry and the animosity, there was an undeniable attraction between you and Caitlin, a magnetic pull that defied your comprehension.

Then, your phone buzzed inside your pocket.

Cait: got the trophy 🥇 Cait: did you think i forgot?

You had forgotten you even had her number, it was from so long ago. The text made your stomach drop (in a very, very good way) as a rush of emotions flooded through you. Surprise, excitement, and a hint of apprehension all mingled together as you read Caitlin's messages.

It was as if the past year had been condensed into those few simple words, reigniting the unresolved tension between you with startling clarity. However, you couldn't shake the nagging doubt that lingered in the back of your mind ─ was this just another game to her? Another way to assert her dominance and superiority over you?

Cait: where u at?

And that was all it took for her to win you over. You knew you were letting your heart do all the talking but right now, you just wanted to feel good. Was that so bad?

──

The knock on the door shouldn't have startled you as much as it did, especially since you had been waiting for it. But still, when the knock echoed through the room, a shiver of anticipation raced down your spine.

You took a moment to steady yourself, to quell the fluttering nerves that threatened to overwhelm you, before crossing the room to answer the door.

As you swung it open, Caitlin stood before you, her presence commanding and intoxicating all at once. She was wearing a black hoodie and sweats, the hood was up and she looked too good. Your eyes scanned her body and you saw her lips quirk up into a smirk.

You felt your stomach leap out of your body at the sight, and you felt like you were gonna go insane, were you ovulating?

"Hey," she greeted, her voice husky with desire as she stepped closer, closing the distance between you with deliberate intent.

"Hey," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper as you met her gaze head-on. Despite the tension that lingered in the air, there was an undeniable pull between you, a magnetic force that drew you together like moths to a flame.

And as Caitlin's lips crashed against yours in a searing kiss, all doubts and fears melted away. In that moment, nothing else mattered ─ not the rivalry, and certainly not the consequences, nothing except the intoxicating desire that pulsed between you and Caitlin.

Caitlin's hands gripped your hips as she closed the hotel door with her leg, effortlessly. Her lips stayed on yours as her hands roamed your body, exploring every curve and contour with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine. The heat of her touch seared through you, igniting a fire that blazed hotter with each passing moment.

Lost in the heat of the moment, you pressed closer to her, your body molding to hers. With a low growl, Caitlin lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around her waist as she carried you further into the room. Every touch, every kiss, only fueled the pure need that raged between you, driving you both to the brink of ecstasy.

And as you surrendered yourself to her, you knew that this was just the beginning ─ the beginning of something that would consume you fully despite resisting it for so long.

She dropped you onto the bed and broke the kiss, her eyes dark as she gazed at you. You were both breathing heavily as you tried your best to maintain eye contact, despite the pressure that was building your lower stomach.

"Didn't think you'd answer," Caitlin finally spoke, her voice breathless as she began climbing on top of you.

"Why?" You asked as she latched her lips to your neck, sucking harshly as you gripped the sheets beneath you.

"Because you're stubborn," Caitlin murmured against your skin, her breath hot and heavy as she trailed kisses along your jawline. "But I knew eventually, you'd realize that there's no point in all that whining,"

You let out a shaky breath, her words igniting a fierce hunger within you as you arched into her touch, craving more of her intoxicating presence.

"I knew all you wanted was for me to show you why I'm better," Caitlin teased as she began stroking your sides.

You wanted to counter, to say anything back to her but you couldn't ─ she already had consumed you and you couldn't of any reason why you'd want to resist her any longer.

Caitlin pulled your lips into another harsh kiss, pulling a moan out of your lips. That seemed to encourage her because next thing you know, she's pulling your shorts off. Her hands eventually found your neck, pushing you into the mattress as you both moaned into the kiss.

Caitlin pulled away for a second, pulling her hoodie over her head and gazed at you, expectantly. You mirrored her actions and you were left only in your bra and underwear, you felt embarrassed under her gaze until she pulled you into a deeper kiss.

Her hands gripped your face and pulled you from the kiss, earning a disappointed whimper from you. "Look at me,"

You met her gaze, the intensity of her dark eyes holding you captive.

"You're fucking beautiful," Caitlin murmured, her fingers tracing the outline of your jaw.

Her words sent a shiver down your spine, the sincerity in her voice disarming you completely. You nodded, swallowing hard as you tried to steady your breathing.

Caitlin's hands moved to the clasp of your bra, her touch gentle yet deliberate as she unhooked it, letting it fall away. She leaned in, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, "I'm gonna make you feel so good, you're gonna forget how much you hate me."

A soft moan escaped your lips as her hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch of your skin with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the intensity of her gaze. You arched into her touch, your body responding to her every move with an urgency that left you breathless.

As she trailed kisses down your neck and across your collarbone, you felt the last of your doubts melt away, leaving you completely vulnerable and exposed.

Her hands found your thighs and squeezed them, her fingers slowly drawing closer to the place you'd wanted her all night. Caitlin's finger slowly began stroking your clothed pussy, her eyes watching your every movement.

You let out a broken whimper, your head falling back on to the mattress before her other hand gripped your face, guiding your gaze back to hers.

"What did I fucking say? Look at me," Caitlin spat, her voice a mix of authority and desire. You forced your eyes open, meeting her intense stare, the heat between you building with every passing second.

"So fucking wet, all for me," she murmured, as continued stroking your clothed heat; she could feel it pulsing all because of her and it made her ego skyrocket even more.

Caitlin's finger moved and before you could voice your disapproval, she slowly slid your underwear off. You were completely naked now, you could feel her eyes rake over you fondly. She spread your legs again, further this time ─ each leg was placed at her sides, leaving you completely exposed and vulnerable under her gaze. Caitlin's eyes darkened with desire as she took in the sight of you, her breath hitching slightly.

"So pretty," she murmured, almost to herself, as she trailed her fingers lightly up your inner thigh, sending shivers of anticipation through your body.

You squirmed beneath her touch, a mix of excitement and impatience coursing through you. "Cait," you breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper, filled with need.

She looked up at you, her eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. "I want you to remember this," she said, her voice low. "Every time you think you can challenge me, every time you think you can beat me, I want you to remember how I make you feel right now."

With that, she leaned down, her lips finding yours in a deep, hungry kiss that almost knocked the breath out of you. Her hands continued their exploration, moving with a confidence that left you trembling with anticipation.

"Do you still think I'm a bitch?" she murmured against your lips, a teasing edge to her voice.

You could barely form a coherent thought, let alone a response, but managed to shake your head, a breathless, "No," escaping your lips.

"Good," Caitlin replied, her lips curving into a satisfied smile. "Because I want you to know exactly who's in control here."

And with that, her finger slid into you perfectly. You let out a surprised moan, your back arching against the mattress. "Oh, fu-fuck."

Her finger began thrusting in and out of you, swiftly. You were so soaked, her finger was moving easily in and out of you. Caitlin's hand gripped your hip, pulling you closer into her.

She slowed down her movements and you let out an disapproving huff, her gaze intense as she looked down at you. "Why did you hate me? Were you jealous?"

Did: as in, past tense.

Her tone sounded almost amused but there was an edge of seriousness to it. "What?"

"I thought that's what it was," her finger slowly began moving again, causing your breath to hitch. "I don't think that's what it was now," she continued, her voice contemplative. "I think it was something else."

You could barely focus, your mind clouded with the sensation of her touch, but her words cut through the haze, making you confront something you'd been avoiding. "I don't hate you," you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I never hated you."

Caitlin's smirk grew, she knew exactly what she was doing. Her finger continuing their slow, torturous rhythm. "Then what was it, Y/N? Why all the anger?"

"Because," you gasped, struggling to form coherent thoughts under her relentless pace. "Because you always got to me. You always made me feel... things I didn't want to feel."

Her movements stilled for a moment, her eyes searching yours. "And now?"

"Now," you swallowed hard, your breath coming in ragged gasps. "Now, I can't stop thinking about you."

A slow, satisfied smile spread across Caitlin's face, her fingers resuming their movement. "Good," she murmured, leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. "Because I don't plan on letting you forget this anytime soon."

Her touch became more quick, driving you closer and closer to the edge once again. The intensity of the moment was almost overwhelming, the culmination of all the pent-up anger and unresolved tension between you. She added another finger slowly, causing you to let out another breathless moan as your back arched.

"Take it, come on. I know you can," Caitlin's fingers never faltered as she gazed down at you. "Fuck, who's the princess now, huh?" she spat as she finger-fucked you, your legs beginning to shake.

As the pleasure built to a fever pitch, you felt yourself letting go of everything ─ the rivalry, the anger, the fear ─ and surrendering completely to the sensation.

"Cait," you moaned, your hands gripping her shoulders as you reached the brink, your body trembling with anticipation.

"That's it, fuck," she whispered against your lips, her breath hot and ragged. "Let go for me."

And with a final, shattering wave of pleasure, you did, your body convulsing in her arms as you cried out her name. Her finger rode you through it, your chest heaving as you slowly came down from your high.

"Can't believe I did that with just my fingers, baby." The pet-name left her lips effortlessly as she broke you out of your reverie. You couldn't believe it, either.

Her fingers slid out of you and she pushed your lips open, forcing them into your mouth. You sucked them clean as she looked down at you, her shitfaced smirk was back.

You rolled your eyes as she removed her finger with a pop. "Yeah, well, don't get too cocky," you shot back, trying to regain some semblance of control even though your body was still trembling.

She laughed, the sound was unfamiliar but genuine; it made your heart flip. "How can I not? I mean, Jesus, I had you literally tell me you never hated me while I was knuckles deep inside you. It was one finger too-"

You groaned loudly, cutting her off as her laughter slowly died down. "I just wanted to cum,"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," you countered, finally meeting her gaze. She had the same cocky ass expression, the one you've always hated ─ but now felt different, somehow.

"Thought I told you to cut the attitude, Y/N," she teased, her fingers trailing along your arm, sending shivers down your spine. Her eyes bore into yours, the intensity of her gaze sending a shiver down your spine.

You felt a surge of defiance rise within you, refusing to back down. "And what if I don't?" you challenged, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest.

Caitlin's smirk widened, a glint of amusement and something deeper flickering in her eyes. "Then I'll just have to remind you why you shouldn't,"

She leaned in and pressed her lips against lips in another heated kiss, her hands roaming your body with a renewed sense of purpose. The teasing edge in her touch drove you wild, a tantalizing reminder of the power she held over you.

"You're impossible," you muttered against her lips.

"And you love it," she shot back, her breath hot against your skin as she moved to kiss along your jawline, her hands exploring every inch of you. The sensation was intoxicating, every touch sending waves of pleasure through your body.

As she continued her relentless assault on your jaw, you couldn't help but surrender to the moment, letting go of all the anger and frustration that had once defined your relationship. In that instant, all that mattered was the connection between you, the raw, unfiltered desire that pulsed through your veins.

"Do you regret it?" Caitlin's voice was softer now, almost vulnerable, as she paused to look into your eyes.

You shook your head, a small smile playing at your lips. "No," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "No, I don't."

Caitlin's eyes softened, her expression shifting from playful to something more tender. "Good," she murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Cause neither do I."

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

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blood-orange-juice · 11 hours

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Started to write Chilumi things/organise my notes and dear gods, I need to perform the same level of analysis/interpretation on Lumine that I've done for Childe for this to work. otherwise I'll fall into the worst stereotypes other fic writers fall into

fun

HOW DO I SPEED UP THIS PROCESS

brainrot supreme

a good thing is that I do like her

Things that I rarely/never/almost never see written, even if they are obvious (although some people draw them and I think these are more common when people write Aether):

There's a deep alienness in her, the way she looks at everything with very little emotion. It's not her being bland, it's the detachment of someone who is just passing through or perhaps someone who isn't human. Friendly cosmic horror.

Her getting progressively fed up with Teyvat

Barely anyone writes Traveler's yearning for their sibling, a passing mention at most. But I think it's always there and most days it's the only thing that is there. They see an architectural style that matches the one from another world and want to share it with their sibling... but the sibling isn't there anymore.

No one to truly share experiences with. No one understands their jokes. No one knows the 2 centuries old philosophical debate from another world they want to reference.

I would also talk very little if I was in their situation.

(this is actually a point of connection with Childe. having experiences that cannot be shared. an invisible wall between them and everyone else)

I hc they don't always take human form in their travels. No one can replicate the beauty of Cad Goddeu, of course, but it won't stop me from referencing it.

I have been in a multitude of shapes, Before I assumed a consistent form. I have been a sword, narrow, variegated, I will believe when it is apparent. I have been a tear in the air, I have been the dullest of stars. I have been a word among letters, I have been a book in the origin. I have been the light of lanterns A year and a half.

#childe #lumine #aether #chilumi

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ebonyslasher · 11 hours

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Them Thangs Thanging, Unfortunately

Basically, reader is a woman who has extremely large breast. Aka ME, this shit isn't for the weak. Just wanted to write about a few struggles we have. This doesn't even cover half of it.

Big Breast!Reader x Michael Myers, Daniel Lamb, Chromeskull, and Ghostface (Danny Johnson)

-----

Growing up was a struggle.

That statement is true for many, especially during early teenhood. Middle schoolers were the most ruthless and awkward looking individuals to exist. However, there was an extra layer of struggle for the girls who had very progressive physical development(s). Specifically, those who developed their breasts early.

That was you. And unfortunately, your breast kept growing and growing. Even through early adulthood, with your weight fluctuating, your breast kept growing. They were always big, mind you. But now, as an adult, they were humongous. And what other people called a blessing, you just called a problem. Many problems at that included:

Price

Bra’s, already, were expensive. For one piece of specialized cloth was $30 to $40. Add onto the fact that you had big breast? Oh, now the price wanted to double. Good luck if you were so big that you had to order custom. Prepare for your soul and wallet to be hurt. Custom bras can set someone back at least $100 easy!

With Michael, it was an odd situation. He would hear you complain about the price, but never understood why. He could just steal them for you, either from the store or from a victim. You, of course, didn’t want a bra from some random, especially with blood on it. EW. His plan could work if he would remembered your size...and if they even had it in store.

Well, price wasn’t an issue with Chromeskull! He already treated you like a queen. If you wanted, he would have someone find bras for you. That way, you don’t even need the stress of looking. You find the bras lined up on a table every few months for you to pick from. What a life!

Daniel listened to your problems and saw firsthand how much they could get up to. Eyebrows shot up at the $79 bra that sat on your screen. After his missions, he would steal money or cards off corpses to give to you. You’d find a pile laying on your desk when he couldn’t stay, with a note saying ‘For your bra troubles!’ He was so sweet.

Ghostface didn’t care. He didn’t have to pay for the bras, so not his problem! He barely listens, pretending to only see any bras you might get next. Pervert. He wouldn't mind you getting a smaller bra, trying to imagine you as those anime girls wearing the smallest bikinis.

“So you want me to look like I'm from One Piece??! Natural breasts in real life don’t work like that dummy!”

Size availability

Speaking of One Piece, it felt like you had to travel through the seven seas just to find bras in your size. Trying to find cute ones? You’re asking for the impossible. Most stores didn’t have your size. Forget about places like Victoria's Secret and especially Aerie. Lane Bryant may have your size, unless your band size is small. So, that means you have to order your bras online. Sucks, since you couldn’t try them on before buying.

Michael stood in the store, comically looming behind you, surrounded by multicolored bras. He noticed that your posture fell as you spoke with a store worker. “Unfortunately, we don’t carry those sizes in store. We have them online and you could get it shipped here.” No thanks. It’d just be better to get something shipped to your house. You sighed in disappointment. Michael squints his eyes at the worker. Maybe he could come back and look to see what they really have in the back…

Availability was no longer a problem thanks to Jesse. Your masked sweetheart hired a personal designer that would make bras tailored to you. And you can tell them just how cute you’d like the bra to be.

A comforting hand lands on your shoulder as you relay the issue of finding your cup and band size in store. Daniel listens on as you rant, throwing your hands up in frustration. “Of course, I’d be the one with a small band size and huge ass breast!” While you talk, he peruses the internet for different online stores that may have your size. You two curate a list of some, avidly reading any reviews that pop up.

“Oh well, hey, maybe this gives you the excuse to not wear bras anymore. Heh, I definitely won’t mind the view,” Danny joked after you told him the news. You roll your eyes and tell him to shut up. He really doesn’t care about your dilemma, pushing you to go braless, so he could see those juicy tatas bouncing. Although, if you get on him enough and promise him something nice, maybe he could magically get you some bras.

Clothing restrictions

There were certain articles of clothing that you couldn’t wear. Sad, since there were some cute looks that you just couldn’t do logistically. Bralettes and button down shirts were the devil. You saw the bralettes trending and said, “Nope. No way I could do that”. Button down shirts were deceptive. It would work up until the point the button around your breast would pop open. Understandable, since the small button couldn’t handle the pressure of holding back such big bouncing melons. You tried again one day, hoping that the designs became better throughout the years. As you walked around, the buttons popped open. The image of soft brown breast were revealed to the world in…

Michael’s steel blues, which immediately pinpoint the wardrobe malfunction. His head slowly tilts. Michael stoically ogles, secretly licking his lips as he enjoys the view. He notices your embarrassment and frustration. He feels a little bad, but that was overshadowed by the deliciousness of your reaction. He loves seeing you get worked up. He wouldn’t mind watching you bouncing around to throw a tantrum.

Jesse’s eyeless mask gleams. He raises his eyebrows at the incident. You try to button your shirt back up. The button only stays a moment before it gives up, bouncing off the shirt for the sweet release of death. The button clinks against the marble floor. You look down in disbelief as Jesse’s shoulders shake in glee. This was the funniest thing he’s seen all week!

Daniel’s zenith blue eyes pop wide open, mimicking the poor button that flew off. His face was a light shade of pink as he observed the scene. “Oh Shit…,” he whispers. Trying not to stare at your obvious malfunction, he peers up at your face that looks beautifully frustrated at the button on the ground. His eyes were full of empathy as walks over. “How about we try another shirt, huh?,” Daniel asks as he chuckles lightly.

“Hallelujah!” Ghostface shouts as he zeros in on this fantastic view. His perverted chocolate eyes were glued to your happy accident. You scoff and cover the malfunction with your hands. The view of that amazing bosom was now obscured, which angered Ghostface. He marches over right as he says, “Hey! Don’t cover those. Ghosty wants to see!”

Back pain

These breasts weighed heavy as gravity worked against your favor. Lugging around these gigantic bust meant the pull and strain against your back muscles. Those back muscles were only so strong, which would get weaker as you got older. The random aches in the upper, middle, and lower part of your back plagued your existence. You tried your best to keep good posture, but it was tiring.

Michael will rub your back if you ask. Well, only if he gets something in exchange. Dessert, you bent over, a good meal, or a new knife. You choose and it better be the right choice depending on his mood. Be warned that Michael is heavy handed as hell. His digs feel like he’s punching through your body. It might be a while before his massages become beneficial.

Jesse will hire a professional masseuse when he's on a spree. However, he would never turn down the opportunity to knead your supple muscles. You don’t mind if he goes a little lower, right Princess? He’ll also treat you with a doctor to get some treatment options going.

Skilled and dangerous hands rub your back, the heavenly sensation of warm oil glides with every movement. Daniel, the sweet man that he is, gladly volunteers to bring you temporary relief. If he’s unable to caress your lovely form, he leaves you some pain medicine and healing meds that he comes across. The healing meds were heavenly. He, later, suggests having a reduction so you won’t have to suffer anymore.

Danny will massage you only because he wants his hands on that perfect body. And lowkey wants you to stop complaining all the time. God, it was annoying. He frequently offers to hold your breast up as you walk around. “I’ll even hold them up out in public. Just think, you’ll have your own boobie holder everywhere you go.” That shit eating grin on his handsome face didn’t faze you. Your face scrunches at his perverted comment. You take him up on the offer…only at home. You wouldn’t admit that it was a big help for your posture. You didn’t need to, Danny could tell how much it was helping by your relieved expression.

#slasher x reader #black reader #michael myers #daniel lamb #chromeskull #ghostface #danny johnson #michael myers x reader #daniel lamb x reader #chromeskull x reader #ghostface x reader #jesse cromeans x reader #jesse cromeans #danny johnson x reader

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lemotmo · 3 days

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Love reading your takes. I like the way you think. Keep them coming.

Sorry for being negative, but my biggest fear is that since Eddie’s coming arc as been stop twice before, it’s hard to believe it’s still coming. I fear that now they have Bi Buck, they won’t trouble themselves with Eddie.

The way the left Eddie at the end of the season, there is so much they can do with him in the upcoming season. I just hope they take the chance to tell his story which would be so impactful to a lot of people and feels natural to his character. To be honest, I don’t know what else they can do, if they keep throwing woman at him, they have literally shown it’s not working.

You can see the way the tune changed in the middle of the season with those interviews. Is it because they know they got a renewal or they completely put the brake to 'buddie'?

I’ll keep hoping for the best. Tptb, please surprise me. Season 8 will make or break it. I don't see people staying past season 8 if nothing significant happens. I'm pretty sure they know, but why be so afraid. Argh ..

From an Eddie fan that’s fed up with the way they treat his character.

Hey Nonny! Thank you for the lovely compliment. I'm just another fan with some opinions, but I'm glad you like reading about them so much.

No no, I get it. I do. I get the negativity. They were so close to finally going where the story has always been going and then they backed off in the middle of the season. Even the interviews changed. It was clear that Oliver wasn't pleased with the way things were going bts either. And I have the feeling Ryan wasn't happy either. Every single interview he had to think about what he was saying and if it wasn't too much against Buddie, but also not too much pro Buddie. It was hard to see him struggle so much. That's probably why some of these interviews contradicted each other as well.

I really do believe they changed the timeline of the story when they heard about the renewal of the show. They realised they could take their time to give Eddie's coming out story the screentime it deserved. However, now they had to find a way to get Eddie to a place where he would have nothing left. No Chris, no ghost Shannon hanging over his head, no girlfriend... just him and his thoughts. This is the first time in life that Eddie is on his own and it's going to lead to some big time self-reflection.

The consequence of the decision to push the Eddie storyline to season 8 is of course Buck now being stuck in this stale relationship with Tommy.

I have read the interviews Ryan has given after the finale and they do fill me with hope and -dare I say- confidence? The way he talks about Eddie's upcoming struggle and journey very much reads as someone realising they're not as straight as they thought they were. He also stopped talking about Eddie being 'hetero' and started using a lot of gender neutral terms when he talks about a possible future partner for Eddie. So yeah, that is a very good sign to me. A feel like a switch has been flipped now and he is more certain where the story is going.

I agree that it would be the most natural way to explore Eddie's character. He has always been queer-coded, since day one. In my opinion even more than Buck. I was always more convinced of Eddie's queerness than of Buck's. So yeah, it is definitely the best, if not the only, way to go with his character.

And yes, I agree again, if there is no progress in Eddie's storyline and he is once again waylaid, keeping him locked up in that closet, put into another dead relationship with yet another female love interest, put through pain again for no reason whatsoever? A lot of people will give up on the show as a whole. Tired and exhausted that Eddie once again was the victim of bad writing. And if they dare to keep Buck in a relationship with Tommy? They will lose even more viewers.

I myself will retreat back into fanon-land where Buck and Eddie will be happy together forever. I might keep on watching the show from afar, only the parts that interest me. Basically because I love Eddie so much and I only want the best for him. I also love all the other characters and I want to see what happens to them. So I don't think I could give up on the show completely.

However, I really don't think it will have to come to that. I don't know for sure of course, but I do know that this time the odds are in our favour and we have a really good chance to get exactly what we wanted for years now: Eddie coming out in season 8 and eventually, when the dust is settled, Buddie.

#nonnies galore #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #season 8 speculation #buddie speculation

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viric-dreams · 18 hours

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You know, there's a truly harrowing timeline for Roberts and the Commodore that's been living in the back of my head for weeks now.

I always imagine that the Commodore was Roberts' first captain, before the Fall. He wasn't the Commodore then. He wasn't anyone particularly notable. But when London Fell, the majority of the Navy's top brass were not there, and fewer still survived the Fall and the days that followed. The Navy was a shambles of whomever was left, of whomever would step up and take charge.

The first years must've been brutal, their already diminished numbers dropping by the day in unfamiliar and dangerous waters, in a cavern with hardly any wind to power the sails on any of the older ships. Yet nonetheless the Commodore had made it south, establishing and taking charge of what was to become Station V, where he and an ambitious engineer made plans to create an artificial sun to light the Neath. All this time, Roberts served faithfully under him, climbing the ranks from cabin boy to seaman to officer.

No one's sure entirely when the Dawn Machine achieved sentience. It was a slow creep, the joy from the return of sunlight turning sour over weeks, curdling into discomfort, dizziness... and then joy once more. It's as if things had never changed. Or maybe they had. Though maybe they'd simply always been this way. If anything, it only increased Roberts' dedication to the Commodore--the man who pulled him into the fold, gave him community, tells him how proud he is of him--and his dedication to the Work he'd started.

Which is why it bothered him so much when he noticed the Commodore start to fade. When the passive smile slowly became more of a fixture, when his brash charisma was progressively overshadowed by tepid pleasantries, when he'd retreat into himself, having a conversation with someone only he seemed to be able to hear.

Roberts would fight to ignore it. The Commodore's always been like this. Nothing has changed. Are you questioning his competence? Implying there's something wrong with their commanding officer? Roberts could have you court martialed for that kind of talk! Besides, there are plenty of days when he seems exactly in line with Roberts' childhood memories of the man. They just need to keep moving on as usual. Keep the Work going.

Maybe he screwed up once. And maybe it was something less than unintentional. He'll never admit to it out loud, of course. But as much as it smarts to have those harsh words thrown at him, as much as he wills himself not to flinch when the man screams in his face, spittle hitting his cheek, at least he's screaming. And if he's screaming he's not smiling that awful, placid smile.

As the decades go by, the Work seems to be taking a toll on the Commodore. Or maybe it's simply the normal treachery of old age. Roberts tries to help. He takes on yet more roles, more decisions, tries to shield the rest of the New Sequence from what's happening behind closed doors, all the while the man seems to retreat further and further into himself.

The order catches him by surprise. Roberts needs to go to London. There's a revolutionary cell bent on great violence, such that would destroy the Dawn Machine and everything they've worked for to remake the Chain. Roberts has to be there to infiltrate and stop them. No one else can do it.

It's the most lucid Roberts has seen the Commodore in months. Maybe it was just a rough patch and it's now all over. The thought of leaving the Commodore alone, of being unable to help, twists like a knife in his gut. Anything could happen, and he wouldn't be there to stop it. But at the end of the day he's the Commodore's man, loyal to a fault. And so he obeys.

The Machine is sick. It's sick and it's dying and it hates. The Commodore knows this better than he knows his own mind at this point. Its tendrils have burrowed into him and they feed and they hate and they hate and they feed. He doesn't know for how much longer it can go on. He's not the spring chicken he once was. The Machine seems to know it too. He doesn't have long.

January and her cell have no idea what they're doing, that much is clear. But it doesn't matter. He can make Elias believe it. Whatever it takes to get him as far away from its influence as possible. The Machine hates, but he loves, and he won't let the Machine have his golden child, the closest thing to a living son he's had since the Fall. Best to send him off before it's too late. He doesn't have long, after all.

#roberts/nite #this was not the npc i had expected to imprint on and create a [vague hand gesture] with with one of my own guys but here we are #shout out to the sgc #anyway that's probably the worst timeline involving those two #gonna go have a normal one now #my writing #i think the overworked commodore is his successor by the way #nobody tell roberts about that guy

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bansenshukai · 2 years

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So to be totally honest, every single time I have ever posted art it's been a struggle to actually add ship/character tags. (I'm using the term art abstractly here, to apply to both writing/drawing).

And this is because I'm scared, on some level, of my art being perceived by others (I know this is a normal feeling, I'm not looking for someone else to give me absolution btw. Please don't try to reassure me, I don't need it). But especially since I'm so rarely fully satisfied with my own work, my natural instinct is to clutch it and shove it away and go "No, don't look at it, look at something better instead".

Anyway, I am not my thoughts. So I post and tag anyway. I refuse to let my silly fear take control of me. Who am I to decide whether other people do or don't enjoy my art? It's literally out of my hands. Trying to decide other people's opinions for them is just arrogance.

I vowed to myself when I created this blog that I would post my fandom art here, because I wanted it all archived in one spot, and that I would genuinely enjoy my own blog. So I will. And I have! Ultimately this blog is by me for me, and thankfully I've remained apathetic about followers/notes. (Mostly I use it like a fandom diary.)

And as much as I complain or point out flaws in my own work (which I should probably do less of, but yk. work in progress. also complaining is wicked fun), I still genuinely enjoy making it. I can still look at the piece and appreciate what I put into it (most of the time, bc absolutism doesn't exist), which is super important because there is no magical future where you suddenly improve and flip a switch into liking your own art.

How you feel about what you make won't change, because you always live in the present and must confront your current work in the now. It doesn't matter how good you become. The future you, with the perfect beautiful art doesn't exist, because by the time you reach it it will merely be the present you. So you need to enjoy the now, because there is no other state of existence.

Also, I post these because I dunno, I always liked reading other creators' thoughts/struggles on their blogs, because it made me realize that doubt and fear were normal things that everyone feels. Something I realized was that it doesn't matter how good you think an artist is-- they too struggle with their own work. It's something natural that you must deal with and move on. A healthy relationship with your own art (be it writing/drawing/music/pottery/etc) doesn't mean that you don't feel negative thoughts and emotions. It just means you are equipped to deal with those feelings in a productive manner and aren't consumed by them.

#art thoughts #long post incoherent ramble warning #and of course it's always a work in progress #but what in life isn't?#do i need to tag this as a fucking diary entry or something lmao #anyway i don't think in sentences. i think in paragraphs. my god do i love to ramble #i like having these diary snapshots to look back in time and see what i was thinking #um maybe i will realize tmrw morning that the fever deliria caused me to vomit words on the internet. god i am fucking tired

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melit0n · 1 month

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#tw vent #I am so. so tired #this week hit me like a freight train #I have final coursework to hand in in less than a week and I'm stressing because I was most definitely not given enough time to do it #and everything inside me is telling me I'm going to fail and I'm pretty sure my teachers think so as well #all my friends are high achievers who always get high grades and put their soul into their work and then there's me. Constantly failing #I try so hard but no matter what I do I never make any progress and I'm afraid I'm going to be stuck here #and that eventually my friends will move on academically and maybe socially and I'll be left behind and feel like a scared kid again #I can't go outside for a walk to try and calm myself down because I fucked up my ankle #and I got laid off one of my jobs which means I'm also stressing about being able to actually eat and on top of that I'm stressing about ->#getting another job because otherwise I can't eat or pay gas or shit #so I'm sat here in my room surrounded by work and I can't go outside and I can't leave my room because my roommate has friends around and #I just want to explode #I'm getting to the point where I'm just being unproductive because all I do is sit in bed and rot #and if I'm not doing that I'm working or I'm at school #and of course I can't even sleep. I can't even rest for a moment #this is shit man #so utterly shit #mel's thoughts

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orange-frog · 9 months

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ppl up in arms about “sentence mixing being way better than AI voice generators” be so for real. theyre different things. joe biden Pills. Now. Please. and ben shapiro Im Not Gonna Get Old on the Beach are both landmark videos and pretending the second one isnt because it was made by the “scary AI” is like. come on. be serious.

#like yeaaah i guess you could argue its unethical bc ben shapiro didnt consent to having his voice made into a bank like that #but the AI is literally just doing what the sentence mixing guys are doing. just automated #so if you wanna raise an ethical issue there i think you gotta raise it with the ytpoopers as well imo #and. its ben shapiro.#be so for real! theyre different things #you ever laugh at one of those spongebob sings world is mine videos from awhile back? its the same shit #utau doesnt have an AI component to it afaik but the process is all the same #of course this isnt applied when COMPANIES are doing it for PROFIT.#but thats always been the case #all this tells me is that you have no idea how voice synthesis has been progressing over the years and have no understanding of how the #software to produce these things work. tbh xoxo #oh no i made a bad post #btw what i mean when i say theyre different things and yet say the process is the same is that the results come out sounding different #process is largely* the same i mean #like ppl dont stop making pixel art bc you can make higer fidelity digital art #same principle

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loverboybrightsideghost · 2 months

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i really do love practicing 🎻

#i'm in music school so now it's a much more significant source of my already very significant fears #but practicing only feels stressful when i don't do it enough and i'm trying to 'catch up'#some weeks fly past me like hurricanes and i get to my lesson and i can't say i've made any progress and that fucks me up #and i don't think that's ever going away- like i'll always have weeks like that cuz everyone has bad days and bad weeks #from time to time #but when i plan correctly (which is becoming more and more the norm for me) my practicing is something im really proud of :)#i have a System. i didn't do very well before i had it and i would die without it now.#i get excited about learning! i get excited having realizations abt things to change or work on when i practice!#it feels experimenty a lot of the time and i like it!!!#i have a lot of catching up to do in terms of comparing myself to others but i'm not here for them i'm here for me #i will do my best and i will learn from others of course but my goals are to make my Me better first and worry abt other people later #i won't lose sight of that #<- and when it doesn't feel experimenty it can be calming to just be like okay ik what i need to do now just. Practice. Repeat.#i mean music is a fucking rollercoaster and sometimes you are at the bottom and i hate that but it comes w the territory #sometimes you're just Stuck but you do get past it and in those moments i just try to think back to previous times ive felt like that #ive felt horribly shitty before and gotten through it and come out the other side slightly better!#life is like that i think #anyways. hashtag iris loves music and being a musician 🙄 nothing new over here hehe

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despairforme · 11 months

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I feel like he would like trans guys, guys who were born as women and said fuck that noise, imma man now

Oh, he had learned about these types of people. It still did not make any sense to him. If you were born female, you'd die female. Sure, he could understand the WISH to be something you were not ( of course he of all people would understand that ), but he didn't believe in the reality of it. You could WANT to be something - that did not make you into that thing. Trans men, from what he'd understood, were women who thought they were men. If they looked like guys, then he wouldn't mind referring to them as such. But they were not REAL men. There would always be a difference between them and him. That was not necessarily a bad thing. He just really disliked the thought of women thinking they could ' become ' men, just because they said so. Women should fucking stay in their lane.

He actually KNEW a couple of trans guys, and since they appeared, to him, like any other guy ( though weak ), he didn't think of them any differently than he would any other weak man. The only setting in which he'd actually see them as women, would be if he was going to sleep with them. Nnoitra was not picky about his partners, but he didn't have much wish to sleep with a trans man. What was the point of doing a woman with no tits? Then he might as well be with an actual man.

❝ Nah, I don't like 'em. Don't mind 'em either. If they look like dudes, then sure, I can treat 'em that way. But they ain't never gonna be 'da same as me. ❞ There was an off-putting sort of arrogance about the concept of being trans. It left a bad taste in his mind. ' I am what I say I am and you have to accept it '. It was fine when THEY did it, but when Nnoitra proclaimed himself to be the strongest, then nobody wanted to go along with it. It was annoying, so no - he did not like them.

#[ OOOOF this is always a trigger topic to write about ]#[ nnoitra is VERY transphobic ]#[ tho he has actually come around after being educated ]#[ of course he's still got a LONG way to go ]#[ but at least now he treats trans men like men ]#[ and he doesn't misgender them ]#[ it's been great to make this progress with him ]#[ STILL HE NEEDS A LOT MORE WORK ]#[ --- this is in canon verse ]#[ in main verse he's MUCH worse unfortunately ]#[ thank you for the ask anon! ]#despair for me. ╱ in character.#talking shit. ╱ answers.#transphobia //#bigotry //#the praying mantis. ╱ canon verse.

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fenharel-apologist94 · 1 year

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WIP Wednesday!

Thank you for the tag @transprincecaspian! I didn't want to overload the original post by @melisusthewee, but you should go check it out to not only see her lovely OC, Quinn, but also to see hopefully see who else is doing creative work in the DA community!

Annnndddd of course I'm working on Tea Leaves and Sweet Dreams ;w; What can I say, I am compelled by two nerds who are terrible at understanding emotions. and by procrastinating writing the second to last chapter of NADAF shhhhhhh

TLSD preview - Chapter 5: Honey Chamomile

Kieran mulled over this new information as they rounded down the last block to his apartment.

“What compelled you to keep applying, if it was so difficult to get in?” He asked.

“I love studying the Fade.”

“It’s as simple as that?”

Solas inclined his head. “It’s as simple as that.”

“Wasn’t it hard to get rejected so often?” During his application process, Kieran had been anxious to the point of nausea at the thought of receiving just one rejection letter.

“I won’t deny that it was, but not being able to pursue what I loved was even harder.” Solas’ gaze drifted ahead of them as he lost himself in thought. “There’s so much to learn about the Fade, and so few have ever truly done it justice. To play a role in developing that knowledge…I can think of no greater calling.”

From the conviction in his voice, Kieran had no doubt that Solas believed that to be true. Unconsciously, he muttered, “I envy that.”

“I’m sorry?” Solas refocused on him, making him aware that he had spoken out loud. Shit.

“I-I mean, it’s amazing you’ve found something you’re so passionate about,” he stammered. He added honestly, “I can’t say I feel that way about anything myself.��

Several moments passed before Kieran realized that Solas had drawn to a halt. Confused as to what he had paused for, Kieran turned to face him. He regarded Kieran with the same expression as one would a complicated puzzle, his mouth pulled into a frown and his brows knit tightly together. The sun had fully vanished now, leaving the streets dark except the warm glow of street lamps.

He had the distinct impression of being cornered, despite open, empty streets around them. An obscure feeling, small and fearful, tightened in the depths of Kieran’s gut.

“You do have a passion,” Solas said simply, as if declaring the weather.

The feeling snapped, like a bowstring drawn too taunt. Keiran whirled back around and began walking again, this time quicker than before. He could hear Solas hastily following suit.

“Kieran,” he tried again, “you do have a passion. I’ve seen it – when you talk about magic theory.”

He knew his reaction was a bit much, but he didn’t want to stop. He didn’t even know why. Normally, he would just brush off such a statement. But for some reason, it was because of Solas. Kieran couldn’t get home fast enough.

“That’s not a passion.” The word felt foul on his tongue. The ghost of memories flickered in the back of his mind, and he moved faster to banish them. “I have to care about magic theory because it’s part of my degree.”

“That’s not true.” Solas’ breath was coming out short in his efforts to keep up with Kieran. His own breath burned iron in his throat. They must be a sight, he thought, as they both rushed down the stone path.

When Kieran didn’t slow down, Solas made an annoyed sound in the back of his throat. Suddenly, Kieran was being turned around by a hand on his wrist.

His heart leapt into his mouth. At first, all he could see were Solas’ eyes, their amber-gray depths alight with a curiosity that set his every nerve aflame.

“If that were true, then explain to me why you came into the lab today,” Solas demanded. “You’re exhausted. You have midterm exams tomorrow. You could have been resting or studying and you still came to the lab.”

Kieran couldn’t help but flinch, and Solas’ grip on his wrist tightened. It wasn’t a hostile gesture — rather, it was grounding, if insistent. Conflicting emotions, both old and new, warred within the confines of Kieran’s chest.

This is so dumb, he chided himself angrily. You should have just laughed this off like you always do.

So why didn’t you?

“I don't understand why you’re so avoidant about this,” Solas breathed.

Kieran hunched inwards despite himself. The words slipped from the heart that sat heavily on his tongue before he could stop them.

“Why would you? We barely know each other.”

ALMOST FORGOT THE TAGS! I tag @nightmarist, @tsuraiwrites, and @theleadcinnabon if they'd like to share anything - always no pressure (and if you don't want to be tagged in things, let me know in a DM! :) )

#of course it's always a work in progress but I'm glad I got the chance to edit this section!#thank you again cas <3 #Tea Leaves and Sweet Dreams #tlsd fanfic #dragon age fanfiction #solas x m!lavellan #wip wednesday

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bobzora · 1 year

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the thing about gamedev that they dont want you to know is that you have to actually dev your game @.@ crazy ! ! !

#bobtalk #slowlyyy making progress on customizing my vn thru the depression funk lol...#i much much prefer working with things that i only kind of understand because i think struggling is fun but also it takes a lot of time tha #t way....#im at a level where i Can code right. i Can code. but im not very good at it. im a jack of all trades master of none kind of guy #(that is to say that i am pretty good at coding to a certain level but i dont have much experience at larger scales.)#and its fun. its thrilling.#its like how i never learned long division so i would always have to do 9000 workarounds to get to answers without calculator.#its like life or death fighting. delectable.#of course if i fail too horribly it just makes me want to blow everything up but theres a delicious middle ground of competency.#you know how it is.#so uh. yeah. im figuring out ren/py screens. LOL #i think if someone who really knows what theyre doing looked at my project theyd want to murder me but thats half the fun <3 #not like i have to worry about performance issues on my. uh. visual n0vel.#at any rate its so much better than visualnovelmaker i have so much beef with that program its actually unreal #anyway i kind of sort of have a vision. and its maybe not quite coherent bc im not a very coherent person. but thats okay i think. <3 #sorry for talking i feel slightly insane and i needed to let some of that out before Total Brain Annihilation #heart emoji. uh. bye

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butterfly-apocalypse · 2 years

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tw: vent, PTSD, flashback 😩

(I’m fine just irritated and upset)

#read a post that upset but I managed to calm myself down and not be triggered #then saw a second post that caught me off guard but still managed to stay calm but now bad thoughts are amuck #saw a third and fourth post in quick succession with triggers in them #(I need to check my filters or stop using mobile bc I can’t use xkit)#I’m just gonna get off the internet and like do Duolingo or something #but it feels like my brain is floating in bad feeling soup #and like yeah! i managed to calm myself down and ground and not grt triggered or have a flashback or get drowned in awful thoughts #and that’s progress and a lot of work and my therapist would be proud!#but I’m still like 10x more exhausted than I was counting on tonight #and even if I’m not spiraling I’m still THINKING about things I don’t want to have to think about right now #but that’s the sort of thing that doesn’t go away really.#there are some topics I’ll always be stupidly sensitive to that will ruin my day upon encountering them #and these are not safe topics to be sensitive about because people love to take advantage of that sensitivity #and my ESA is over an hour away because my school makes it intentionally difficult to get approval #if anyone is reading my rant (bless you 💕) and knows how to filter words on mobile please let me know how #of course that doesn’t always help because there’s a lot of slang and allusions and images #and feel literally sick to my stomach having to ask people to tag my triggers #(I’ve had some bad experiences with asking people to accommodate my triggers recently)#and I hate doing it in the first place #i hate being in America. my PTSD has been making up for lost time since I got back from Wales.#ah whoop there it goes flashback time 🤪#(I’ll be okay I am fine I just was upset and wanted to rant but that made me more upset :/)#((gonna go suck on a jolly rancher watch Old Enough))

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endusviolence · 3 months

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Rowling isn't denying holocaust. She just pointed out that burning of transgender health books is a lie as that form of cosmetic surgery didn't exist. But of course you knew that already, didn't you?

I was thinking I'd probably see one of you! You're wrong :) Let's review the history a bit, shall we?

In this case, what we're talking about is the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft, or in English, The Institute of Sexology. This Institute was founded and headed by a gay Jewish sexologist named Magnus Hirschfeld. It was founded in July of 1919 as the first sexology research clinic in the world, and was run as a private, non-profit clinic. Hirschfeld and the researchers who worked there would give out consultations, medical advice, and even treatments for free to their poorer clientele, as well as give thousands of lectures and build a unique library full of books on gender, sexuality, and eroticism. Of course, being a gay man, Hirschfeld focused a lot on the gay community and proving that homosexuality was natural and could not be "cured".

Hirschfeld was unique in his time because he believed that nobody's gender was either one or the other. Rather, he contended that everyone is a mixture of both male and female, with every individual having their own unique mix of traits.

This leads into the Institute's work with transgender patients. Hirschfeld was actually the one to coin the term "transsexual" in 1923, though this word didn't become popular phrasing until 30 years later when Harry Benjamin began expanding his research (I'll just be shortening it to trans for this brief overview.) For the Institute, their revolutionary work with gay men eventually began to attract other members of the LGBTA+, including of course trans people.

Contrary to what Anon says, sex reassignment surgery was first tested in 1912. It'd already being used on humans throughout Europe during the 1920's by the time a doctor at the Institute named Ludwig Levy-Lenz began performing it on patients in 1931. Hirschfeld was at first opposed, but he came around quickly because it lowered the rate of suicide among their trans patients. Not only was reassignment performed at the Institute, but both facial feminization and facial masculization surgery were also done.

The Institute employed some of these patients, gave them therapy to help with other issues, even gave some of the mentioned surgeries for free to this who could not afford it! They spoke out on their behalf to the public, even getting Berlin police to help them create "transvestite passes" to allow people to dress however they wanted without the threat of being arrested. They worked together to fight the law, including trying to strike down Paragraph 175, which made it illegal to be homosexual. The picture below is from their holiday party, Magnus Hirschfeld being the gentleman on the right with the fabulous mustache. Many of the other people in this photo are transgender.

[Image ID: A black and white photo of a group of people. Some are smiling at the camera, others have serious expressions. Either way, they all seem to be happy. On the right side, an older gentleman in glasses- Magnus Hirschfeld- is sitting. He has short hair and a bushy mustache. He is resting one hand on the shoulder of the person in front of him. His other hand is being held by a person to his left. Another person to his right is holding his shoulder.]

There was always push back against the Institute, especially from conservatives who saw all of this as a bad thing. But conservatism can't stop progress without destroying it. They weren't willing to go that far for a good while. It all ended in March of 1933, when a new Chancellor was elected. The Nazis did not like homosexuals for several reasons. Chief among them, we break the boundaries of "normal" society. Shortly after the election, on May 6th, the book burnings began. The Jewish, gay, and obviously liberal Magnus Hirschfeld and his library of boundary-breaking literature was one of the very first targets. Thankfully, Hirschfeld was spared by virtue of being in Paris at the time (he would die in 1935, before the Nazis were able to invade France). His library wasn't so lucky.

This famous picture of the book burnings was taken after the Institute of Sexology had been raided. That's their books. Literature on so much about sexuality, eroticism, and gender, yes including their new work on trans people. This is the trans community's Alexandria. We're incredibly lucky that enough of it survived for Harry Benjamin and everyone who came after him was able to build on the Institute's work.

[Image ID: A black and white photo of the May Nazi book burning of the Institute of Sexology's library. A soldier, back facing the camera, is throwing a stack of books into the fire. In the background of the right side, a crowd is watching.]

As the Holocaust went on, the homosexuals of Germany became a targeted group. This did include transgender people, no matter what you say. To deny this reality is Holocaust denial. JK Rowling and everyone else who tries to pretend like this isn't reality is participating in that evil. You're agreeing with the Nazis.

But of course, you knew that already, didn't you?

Edit: Added image IDs. I apologize to those using screen readers for forgetting them. Please reblog this version instead.

#transgender #trans history #transsexual #transphobia #Magnus Hirschfeld #holocaust #holocaust denial #book burning #j.k. rowling #jk rowling #just in case you missed what i mean by all this: go fuck yourself anon :)#trans people have always existed #and we will always exist #if you really wanna pick a fight with me over well-documented history then you better bring in some sources to back your shit #queer history #queer #lgbt+#lgbta+#lgbt #lgbt history #edit: i finally got around to those damn image IDs. i am so very sorry for totally forgetting that's my bimbo moment of the month #also real quick i thought about adding an image of the actual building but the only one i can find has a Nazi parade in front of it #it was taken the day of the book burning raid and honestly if i were to include it then i'd add it to the first few paragraphs #and i think the story's better told when you uphold the hope Magnus Hirschfeld and all the researchers he worked with had #also keeps being brought up: yes Hirschfeld was a eugenicist. it was a popular belief set that was only discredited after WW2 #Hirschfeld died in 1935. he literally didn't live long enough to see science turn against those beliefs and practices #considering how he changed his mind on transitions i like to think he would've changed his mind on eugenics too if he'd lived

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