#i made this for my own use but i figured i might as well post it

[wbbfannnnnn13]

Almost, Always - Chapter 8

paige x azzi

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7

A/N: Phew, this chapter was A LOT, but I had so much fun writing it... this is definitely the longest chapter so far! Hope you like it, heads up, angst has re-entered the chat... and thank you anons for the responses, the live reactions, and love <3

WC: 4.6k+

Chapter 8 – Rumor Has It

The last month had felt different—in the best possible way. Ever since Paige had shown up to see Azzi, something between them had shifted. Not in big, sweeping, dramatic ways, but in the quiet, intentional moments that stuck. Paige had made a decision, not just to love Azzi, but to do it fully, out loud. Her conversation with Coach Geno had peeled something open in her, and that post—the one that had felt like leaping off a cliff—hadn’t just been a gesture. It had been a promise. She didn’t want to be stuck in “almost” anymore. Not with Azzi. Not when it had started to feel like everything she’d ever wanted was finally right in front of her.

She wanted to stay in the bubble that existed when it was just them—safe, soft, and theirs. But that wasn’t how life worked, not when they were both professional basketball players in different cities. So she went back to Dallas, even though her chest ached the moment she left Azzi’s arms at the airport.

Still, even from a distance, Paige had made the choice to keep showing up. To be better. To be braver. She started leaving flirtatious comments on Azzi’s Instagram posts, reposting TikToks that subtly hinted she was taken, letting her affection spill into the parts of her public life she used to keep guarded. She wasn’t making any grand announcements, but she wasn’t hiding anymore either. And that alone felt like a breakthrough. For the first time, Paige wasn’t living in fear of what people might say.

Sure, there were trolls, as always, but most fans embraced it. Some had been rooting for them for years. Back in college, their teammates used to laugh at the fan-made edits and shipping videos—compilations of lingering looks, casual touches, shared smiles that fans swore meant more. And they were right. Paige never denied it, not to herself, not to Azzi, not even to the speculating fans. They’d been together for a long time. They just had to keep it private—same team, same spotlight, too much at stake. But she couldn’t hide the way Azzi affected her, how her posture softened, how her guard dropped, how everything in her leaned toward Azzi without thinking. It had always been that way.

At a recent press conference, when a reporter brought up the photo of her in Azzi’s jersey leaving the arena, she hadn’t dodged the question. “I’ve got someone really special in my life,” she said, smiling into the mic. “And I think people are smart enough to figure that out.”

She’d watched the clip later and, for once, didn’t cringe the way she usually did. Instead, she felt something lighter. Like she was finally showing Azzi the kind of love she deserved in every space, not just the private ones. There was something about hearing her own voice echo through a press room—no dodging, no deflecting—that made her feel braver than she’d expected. She hadn’t stumbled over her words. She hadn’t laughed nervously or looked away. She’d stood there and said it softly, simply, but clearly.

Later that night, the clip played again, this time over FaceTime. Azzi’s face lit up as she watched it, her mouth tugging into a slow smile.

“Damn,” Azzi said, eyes still on the screen, a slow smile creeping across her face. “You really said that? On camera?”

“I did,” Paige said, grinning, propped up on one elbow in bed, her phone resting against her knee. “Impressed?”

Azzi tilted her head, playful, the corners of her mouth tugging upward. “A little turned on, honestly.”

Paige laughed, the sound low and easy. “Yeah? You like when I get all brave and emotionally well-adjusted in public?”

“Kind of a kink I didn’t know I had,” Azzi teased, eyes flicking back to the screen for a second. “Who knew press conference Paige would do it for me.”

“Just wait till you see what I say next time,” Paige said, stretching out with a smug little smirk. “Might start reciting poetry about your ass if a reporter gives me an opening.”

Azzi laughed, shaking her head as she tucked her blanket up under her arms. Then her expression softened, just slightly, voice quieter. “Seriously, though. That meant a lot. I know you didn’t have to say anything.”

“I wanted to,” Paige said, her tone solid and sure, no hesitation anywhere in her voice.

There was a pause, a quiet stretch between them filled with soft static and unspoken feeling. Azzi exhaled, almost like she’d been holding her breath. Her gaze stayed steady on the screen. “I love you, you know.”

Paige smiled, a warm, slow curve of her lips. “I know.”

Another beat passed, heavier this time, and then Paige shifted slightly, voice dipping just a little lower. “So… what are you wearing?”

Azzi burst out laughing, dropping her head back against the pillow. “Oh my god. Seriously?”

“What?” Paige said, eyes wide with fake innocence. “I was being vulnerable. And now I’m horny. These things can coexist. And you did say you just discovered a new kink.”

Azzi shook her head, still laughing, her hand dragging down her face. “Maybe, but we are not having phone sex.”

“You say that like it hasn’t happened before.”

Azzi groaned dramatically, covering her face with both hands. “That was one time.”

“It was three times.”

“Two and a half. That last one barely counted. My neighbor started vacuuming halfway through.”

“Still counts. I was committed.”

“You were aggressively horny,” Azzi said, peeking at her through her fingers. “There’s a difference.”

“I’m just trying to create intimacy across distance,” Paige said, voice mock-serious.

“You’re trying to get me to take my shirt off.”

“That too.”

Azzi narrowed her eyes at the screen, half amused, half exasperated. “You’re like a teenage boy.”

“Not true. I have emotional depth and a skincare routine.”

Azzi laughed again, deeper this time, settling back against her pillow like she’d surrendered to the chaos. “You’re ridiculous.”

“But you love me.”

“Unfortunately.”

“You wanna see what I’m not wearing?”

“No. Go to sleep.”

“You’re no fun.”

______________________________________________________________

Neither of them said it out loud much, but the season had been brutal.

Both the Wings and the Mystics were teetering on the edge of playoff contention—just enough hope to keep pushing, just enough pressure to make everything feel like it might snap. Every win mattered. Every mistake felt heavier. Their schedules were chaos: back-to-backs, cross-country flights, film sessions bleeding into treatment, treatment bleeding into practice. Sleep was fragmented. Time zones blurred. They were always packing, always moving, always squeezing in calls between meetings or on the bus or while icing knees.

Still, they were making it work. Somehow, between the madness, they kept finding each other. Late-night FaceTimes, middle-of-the-day check-ins, a photo sent from the training room, a voicemail waiting after a rough game. Small things, steady things. They knew what this life demanded, but they weren’t getting lost in it. They’d built something strong enough to hold under pressure. It wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t have to be. They were showing up for each other, over and over. That counted for a lot.

They’d been talking about the off-season too. Where they might spend it, how they could actually exist in the same city for more than stolen weekends. Paige had even surprised herself with how often the thought crept in—marriage. Paige hadn’t expected that, not at this point in her life. She used to roll her eyes when people her age talked about forever like it was some milestone you could pencil in. She figured she’d be older, more settled before she even considered it. But here she was, catching herself wondering what kind of ring Azzi would like, where they’d live, what their future might actually look like when the noise faded and it was just the two of them.

Lately, though, it wasn’t just the idea of marriage circling in her head, it was the logistics. When would be the right time? How could she even pull off a proposal without Azzi catching on? Azzi noticed everything. A whole proposal? That would take planning, real planning. And then there was the matter of asking Azzi’s parents. She’d never been big on tradition, but that part felt important. It mattered. She wanted to do it right.

The problem was time. Their schedules were chaos; practice, games, recovery, repeat. There was no room to breathe, let alone coordinate a proposal or fly across the country to talk to Tim and Katie face-to-face, the way she wanted to. She couldn’t exactly wedge that in between shootaround and film review. But the thought kept pressing in. And ever since she’d gone public with their relationship, it was like something inside her had burst open, a dam broken, love rushing out in ways she hadn’t expected. She’d spent so long keeping it quiet, protecting it, holding it in her hands like something fragile. But now, it moved through everything. It showed up in her daydreams, in the space between texts, in the way she stared at Azzi through a screen and already pictured a whole life ahead of them.

It wasn’t a question of if anymore. Just when, how, and whether she could manage to keep it a secret long enough to make it special.

She wouldn’t say anything. Not yet. Not directly.

Well—almost not. One night during a sleepy FaceTime call, Paige had nearly let it slip.

Azzi had been curled up in bed, bonnet and glasses on, rambling about a new recipe she’d ruined and laughing at herself. Paige had just been staring at her. Utterly gone.

"You’re such a dork," Paige teased, grinning.

Azzi squinted playfully at the camera. "Oh, please. You love it."

"I do," Paige said, almost too softly. Then, without thinking, "God, I can’t wait to mar—"

She stopped herself, eyes going wide.

Azzi raised a brow. "Marry…?"

Paige cleared her throat and quickly backpedaled. "Marinate! I meant… marinate. Like, I can’t wait to marinate in this moment." She winced the moment the words left her mouth.

Azzi burst out laughing, full and unfiltered. "You’re a terrible liar, P."

Paige’s face turned pink. "Okay, okay. Maybe that wasn’t what I meant."

Azzi just smiled, a softness settling into her expression. "You’re cute when you panic."

"You’re cute all the time," Paige said, more serious now. "And maybe I’ll tell you what I really meant… someday."

Azzi’s heart skipped, but she didn’t push. "I’ll be waiting.”

______________________________________________________________

As fate would have it, Tim and Katie were in Dallas for a youth basketball camp they were helping to run. Paige hadn’t planned to see them—not yet, not until she had a ring or a plan or at least a speech that didn’t make her palms sweat, but when she found out they were in town, something in her just said go. No more overthinking. No perfect moment. Just the right people, close by, and a chance she didn’t want to miss.

She texted Katie that morning, asking if they had time to grab coffee before their afternoon session. A few hours later, they met at a quiet café just a few blocks from the arena, one of those tucked-away places with mismatched chairs, soft lighting, and the smell of fresh espresso in the air. When Paige spotted them walking in, hand in hand, both smiling like they hadn’t aged a day since Azzi’s high school games, her stomach flipped. Nerves surged up fast, sharp and sudden, like she’d just been subbed into a fourth-quarter tie game.

She stood to hug them, trying to play it cool, trying to keep her hands from shaking as she picked up her coffee again. They talked easily for a while about basketball, the camp, how exhausted the kids were after day one, how brutal the league schedule had been lately. Paige nodded along, smiled in all the right places, even made them laugh a few times. But the whole time, the real reason she’d asked them here was pressing hard against her ribs, loud and persistent.

The words were there, sitting on her tongue, pulsing behind every breath. Ask them. Just ask. Her heart thudded harder every time the conversation dipped, every time there was a lull where she could have said it. And finally, after one of those soft pauses—the kind where time stretches just long enough to make you brave—she set her coffee cup down gently on the table, took a breath, and looked up at them.

Katie’s eyes met hers first, warm and expectant. Tim leaned in slightly, sensing the shift in energy.

And Paige spoke.

"I want to marry your daughter," she said, voice soft but sincere. "I love her—you already know that. I want to be the one standing beside her for the rest of our lives. I want to build a future with her, and before I take that step, I wanted to come to you both first. It matters to me, to have your blessing, your support."

The table fell quiet for a beat. Then Katie’s eyes welled instantly, her hand reaching across the table for Paige’s.

"Paige, of course. We’ve always considered you part of the family, but to have you officially? Nothing would make us happier."

Tim nodded, his voice firm and full of warmth. "You’ve been there for her in ways no one else has. You’re good for her. You’ve always been good for her. We’d be proud to call you our daughter, too."

Paige blinked fast, her chest swelling with emotion. It was one thing to dream about a life with Azzi—something she’d done a thousand times before, in quiet moments, in lonely hotel rooms, in the back of team buses. But it was another thing entirely to feel it beginning to take shape, to see it mirrored back in the warmth of Azzi’s parents’ eyes, in their unwavering support, in the unspoken understanding that this love wasn’t a phase or a secret. It was real. It was solid. It was hers. The moment wrapped around her like a promise, filling spaces in her heart she hadn’t even known were empty. For the first time, it didn’t feel like reaching for something fragile and far away. It felt close. It felt possible. It felt like home.

When she walked out of the café that afternoon, the sun was warm on her skin and her heart felt fuller than it had in a long time. A ring wasn’t in her pocket yet, but the promise had settled in her bones.

It had felt so solid. So safe. Paige let herself believe that finally she could have this. Have her. No almost, but actually. Not fleeting, not temporary. Just the kind of love that was whole and steady and real. The kind of love that didn’t need to hide in the shadows or settle for halfway. 

____________________________________________________________

For Azzi, the last month had been just as transformative, but not by accident. She’d given Paige an ultimatum. Not out of cruelty, and not because she didn’t love her, but because she couldn’t keep shrinking herself to fit into the quiet corners of someone else’s life. She’d hit her limit. She’d told Paige, plainly, I can’t keep doing this in the dark. Either they moved forward—fully, publicly, honestly—or they didn’t move forward at all.

And afterward, Azzi had carried the weight of it. She didn’t regret what she’d said, but there was guilt tucked into the edges of it. She knew how much pressure Paige was already under, how exhausting the season was, how tightly she held everything together. But part of her also knew Paige needed the push. Someone had to draw the line. Someone had to say: This love deserves to live in the light.

And to her surprise—maybe even her relief—Paige didn’t pull away. She stepped in. Stepped up. Fully. Something in her had clicked, and suddenly it wasn’t just words anymore. It was action. It was the way she posted the photo of them without hesitation. The way she said I’ve got someone special in my life in a press conference and didn’t flinch. The way she looked into cameras and didn’t hide anymore.

Azzi felt the shift in everything. In how Paige texted. In how she talked. In how she made space, even from across the country. Every post, every comment, every glance in an interview felt like a thread being pulled tighter between them. Paige wasn’t just loving her in private anymore. She was choosing her out loud. Claiming her. And it hit Azzi deeper than she’d expected—not because she hadn’t hoped for it, but because part of her had stopped letting herself believe it would ever happen.

It made her heart race in the best way, but it also made her ache with the weight of hope. Because for the first time, she wasn’t holding this relationship together alone. Paige was building it with her—sturdy, intentional, brick by brick. This wasn’t just survival anymore. It was a future.

They talked more. They laughed more. And even in the middle of Azzi’s chaotic rookie season, long flights, brutal back-to-backs, the steep learning curve of the league, they were doing better than ever. Stronger. Closer. There was clarity now, and steadiness. Paige had made a choice, and Azzi felt it in everything they did.

So when Paige started hinting about spending the off-season together—half-jokes about shared closets, casual comments about finding a place—Azzi let herself fall into it. She didn’t hold herself back. She let herself imagine the mornings, the grocery runs, the softness of a home they didn’t have to leave every weekend. A life that wasn’t just borrowed time.

And then one night, Paige said it. Not directly. Not even deliberately. But it slipped out, low and casual, like the thought had already lived in her for weeks. She let the words “I can’t wait to marry” replay again and again in her head, each time hitting a little deeper. And even though Paige tried to backpedal the second she realized what she’d said, Azzi had already felt it, the truth behind it, the certainty. That throwaway line had cracked something open in her. Quietly, completely, undeniably.

And maybe that was the part that mattered most.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And then came the rumor.

It started quietly, just a blurry photo posted by an anonymous account. A shot of Paige walking out of a Dallas restaurant, laughing with a woman Azzi didn’t recognize. The lighting was soft, the woman's hand lightly on Paige's arm. Azzi stared at it for a long time, longer than she wanted to admit, heart sinking slowly in her chest. She told herself it was nothing. It had to be nothing. But still, she looked again.

And it didn’t stop there.

The rumors picked up speed, spreading fast and sharp. Speculation turned into commentary, commentary turned into assumptions. Then came the twist—another anonymous account posted an old video, grainy and clearly shot in a dimly lit college bar. Paige, visibly drunk, was pressed against another woman—someone Azzi had never seen before, but who clearly wasn’t just a stranger passing by. They were laughing, dancing, touching—close and familiar. At one point, the girl kissed Paige’s neck, and Paige didn’t flinch. She smiled. She pulled her closer.

The clip was dated—sophomore year for Paige, freshman year for Azzi. Before they were official. Before things were solid. But none of that softened the sting. Because Azzi remembered exactly what led to that night. The fight they’d had. The silence that followed. The feeling that maybe Paige hadn’t taken any of it as seriously as she had. And now, years later, watching it unfold again through a stranger’s camera lens, it cut deeper than she expected. 

They’d just finished a brutal afternoon practice—legs heavy, shirts soaked, everything aching in the way that felt earned. Paige and Azzi walked side by side, still catching their breath, laughing at something stupid one of the assistant coaches had said. It was one of those in-between moments where everything felt easy between them. Paige bumped Azzi’s shoulder, teasing her about the free throws she’d bricked, and Azzi rolled her eyes, quick to fire back about Paige’s turnovers. It was all light and familiar, their rhythm, their shorthand, their closeness.

They were headed toward the dining hall when it happened.

Brandon, one of the guys from the football team, stepped right into their path. Confident, loud, like he always was. “Yo, Azzi,” he said, grinning. “You wanna grab dinner sometime? Just you and me?”

The words hit hard. Too fast, too casual, like Paige wasn’t even standing there.

Paige stopped walking. Her smile faded. Her jaw tightened, subtle but sharp. Azzi glanced between them, caught completely off guard. “Uh… I—I don’t know,” she said, stumbling over the words. “Maybe… I’m not sure.”

Brandon didn’t seem to notice the tension at all. He just nodded, smug. “Cool. Let me know.”

Then he walked off, not even sparing a glance in Paige’s direction.

The silence that followed wasn’t just awkward, it was heavy. Thick with everything unsaid.

Paige didn’t say a word. She just started walking again, quicker now, eyes fixed ahead. Her shoulders had lost their usual looseness, her whole posture tight and closed off. Azzi hurried to catch up, unsure of what to say, wishing she could rewind the last two minutes and handle it differently. But the words caught in her throat. What could she even say? It had all happened so fast, and now it felt like she’d stepped on something delicate without meaning to.

She tried to brush it off later, told herself it wasn’t that deep. That it didn’t mean anything. But deep down, she knew better. Because what hurt wasn’t just Brandon’s timing—it was what her hesitation had signaled. Paige and Azzi had crossed the line of ‘just friends’ a long time ago. Every glance they shared, every touch that lingered too long—it had never just been friendly. Friends didn’t look at each other like that. Friends didn’t feel like this. Friends don’t have sex.

And the truth was, Azzi wanted Paige. Fully. Openly. She wanted to be seen beside her, not just orbiting in private. But she’d never said any of it. Not out loud. Not to Paige. She’d been too scared to risk what they already had. Too scared to ask for more and hear that Paige didn’t want the same.

So when Brandon asked her out and she didn’t shut it down right away, it cracked something between them. Not loudly, not completely, but just enough.

Later that night, Azzi stayed in her dorm, restless, replaying the moment again and again. Wondering why she hadn’t just said no. Wondering if it had looked worse than it was. She thought about calling Paige, explaining, trying to fix it before it spiraled into something bigger. But by the time she worked up the nerve, it was already too late.

Her phone lit up with a message. Paige was out. At a bar. With the team. Probably trying to blow off steam. Looking for a distraction. 

And apparently, she found one, based on that video.Azzi hated that the thought bothered her, but it did. The idea of someone else getting Paige’s full attention, even briefly, stung in a way she hadn’t expected. She hadn’t known everything that had happened that night. Not until she saw the video. It had taken months to fully mend what cracked between them after that. To work through all the things they hadn’t said out loud. Eventually, they’d laughed about it—how messy and dumb they’d both been, how long it took them to admit what they actually felt for each other.

Now, years later, the video didn’t carry much weight on its own. It was old history. But the fact that the internet had dug it up and was using it to spin stories about their relationship pissed Azzi off. And, if she was honest, it scared her too. 

Comments flooded in:

"Is this the mystery girl from Dallas?”

"Looks like Paige’s type hasn’t changed."

"That girl apparently lives in Dallas now—just saying."

The timing couldn’t have been worse. Both Paige and Azzi were heading into the first round of the playoffs, and this was the kind of distraction neither of them could afford. But it was more than just bad timing, it was the fear that started to creep in underneath. For the first time, Azzi fully understood what Paige had been afraid of all along. The noise. The scrutiny. The way people hovered around their relationship, looking for cracks to expose, moments to twist, anything they could turn into a headline.

Azzi had always believed that love should be simple if it was real. But this made it feel anything but. Suddenly, she couldn’t stop thinking about how easily something private could be taken out of their hands. How quickly the world could take something honest and turn it into speculation, clickbait, drama. She feared what it could do to Paige, how it might shut her down again, make her retreat into the guarded version of herself Azzi thought they’d left behind. And underneath all of it was the deeper fear, what if the pressure of being seen, of being picked apart by strangers, slowly wore them down? What if even love wasn’t enough to hold up under that kind of weight?

She trusted Paige. That wasn’t the issue. But she didn’t trust the world around them, and now she was starting to understand why Paige never had either.

Paige tried to reach her that night.

First came the FaceTime call—Azzi’s screen lit up with Paige’s name and a photo of them from last summer, smiling in a grainy, sunlit selfie. Azzi stared at it until it stopped ringing. She couldn’t bring herself to answer. Her heart was still pounding too fast, her thoughts too tangled.

A few minutes later, Paige tried again. Another FaceTime. Then a call. Then a text: Can you talk? Another: Please.

Azzi read the messages over and over, thumbs hovering over the screen, her chest tight with guilt. She knew it was cruel not to answer. She knew Paige had nothing to do with the rumors, knew this wasn’t her fault. But still, Azzi felt like she was suffocating—trapped under the weight of new fears she hadn’t figured out how to name yet.

It wasn’t just the video. It was everything it stirred up. All the old insecurities she thought she’d buried. All the ways this love, so steady and solid most days, suddenly felt fragile under public scrutiny. She hated that she was letting it get to her. Hated that she was pulling away when she knew Paige needed reassurance just as much as she did. But she couldn’t fake calm. Not yet. Not when everything inside her felt like it was unraveling.

The phone buzzed again. Another message: I just want to hear your voice. That’s all.

Azzi closed her eyes. She wanted that too, more than anything. But her body stayed locked up, heart racing, jaw clenched, tears burning behind her eyes. What if Paige was reaching out just to retreat again? What if she needed Azzi to be the strong one, to pull her past the fear? Azzi wasn’t sure she could.

She set her phone to do-not-disturb and dropped it face down on the bed. Then she lay back against the pillows, arms crossed over her chest like she was bracing for impact.

She wasn’t angry at Paige. Not really. But she needed space. Space to think, to breathe, to stop feeling like everything they had built could be undone by a blurry video and a few careless comments online.

She would call Paige back. Just not until she knew what she was really afraid of.

[creatingblackcharacters]

hi!! Just wanted to start by saying thank you so much for all you do, reading through your posts has been very helpful and has given me a lot of resources, and you’re doing it without any obligation to do so which I really appreciate.

I was hoping for feedback on something I’m writing if that’s okay. I should preface this by saying it takes place in a fantasy setting and is meant to be a sort of tragedy where every character gets either a tragic or bittersweet ending, which has an impact on how I’m writing things.

my main concern right now is how I’m writing one of the Black women in my story. A vague rundown is that she’s an important political figure during a time when humans have a lot of political tension with another fictional species, and a lot of the story centers on how the humans racist views towards them fuel what eventually leads to a war.

the Black woman in question has a lot of her story center around how she puts so much pressure on herself to keep peace between both groups and the toll that starts taking on her. She does her best to avoid things from going too far without pissing off the other humans despite her being very against all the shit that they say in do because she’s worried going too far would escalate things. There’s also meant to be subtext in how people treat her that reflect real world racism and misogyny that she struggles with.

thing is, the way I have it written right now is that she’s a victim of political assassination by another human due to her support of the other species, and this assassination is pinned on that species by the humans, which is what triggers the war.

The more I think about this plot point, the more I’m concerned about the messaging it has. I’m not sure if I should scrap it entirely or just do my best to write it as respectfully as possible since I’m worried about the implications behind it. I’m worried it might be reminiscent of real world events or would be too harsh of an ending for her, even though it’s meant to be a tragedy. I can’t tell if I’m over thinking things or not.

do you have any feedback or advice? Any resources to help inform my opinion on this kind of thing? I know this subject matter is pretty delicate and I don’t want her character or her death to come across a certain way. I love her and want to treat her story as well as I can. Thank you for taking the time to read and respond to this, much love <3

(tbh, Malcolm X being killed by the Nation with help of the FBI would probably be a bit closer but... I barely trust MLK with folks so I'll not use that example)

I assume that you've read my lessons and posts on how one of the issues with Black womanhood is how we are perceived as having to carry the weight and be strong enough always, and that it's seen as a flaw if we cannot, so I hope that you incorporate that into your narrative as well.

I don't think the story itself sounds bad! Tragic for sure, and there is a lot to be connected to real life, especially because she is a Black woman. That's not a bad thing, but as I say with everything related to topics like this: if you're gonna do it, do it. Commit!

Your fantasy war bit concerns me bc fantasy racism is often subpar, due to avoiding the actual issues that come with racism. It's not just a "we are having a misunderstanding", it's "there is a benefit to believing these things and the group in power will do whatever is systemically possible to maintain this system". So one thing I'd avoid is having her death be in vain narratively, that all she does is Die to Kickstart the Plot. She is a casualty of the humans' own racism, a sacrifice easily made to maintain supremacy! There is clearly a wrong side, here!

[liketolaugh-writes]

More Like Home - Timeline

Present:

Bruce - 44

Dick - 28

Jason - 25

Cass - 24

Tim - 22

Duke - 18

Danny - 16

Damian - 15

History:

22 years ago (DP) - Vlad has his accident

19 years ago - Batman (age 25) begins, Dick (age 9) is recruited

17 years ago - the Justice League is founded

15 years ago (DP) - Vlad begins accruing wealth illegally

13 years ago - Dick (age 14) runs away to form the Teen Titans, Jason (age 12) is recruited

10 years ago - Jason (age 15) dies

9 years ago - Tim (age 13) is recruited

8 years ago - the Metahuman Protection Act is passed, No Man's Land happens

7 years ago - Jason (age 18) returns to Gotham

5 years ago - Damian (age 10) is recruited

4 years ago - Bruce is lost in the time stream

2 years ago - Duke (age 16) is recruited

2 years ago (DP) - Danny (age 14) has his accident

1 year ago (DP) - Danny (age 15) defeats Pariah Dark

Six months ago (DP) - the Anti-Ecto Acts are passed

[sheeezu]

Yes, this is a new account, I just made this. I don't care if people question the authenticity of my post, my experience as a shifter, or whatever I'm about to say.

I don't know how to use Tumblr, nor do I know how to make my post reach people who need it, nor would I be a narcissist and say "you're lucky if you found my post!" I don't mind if this reaches an audience or not, I'm glad to get everything off my chest.

Yes. I've shifted.

I have shifted realities, more times than I can count on my fingers, and that is for a very specific reason, which I'll explain later.

I'm writing this because I'm about to permashift, and no, I won't hear out any antishifters or people who don't like permashifting in general, I don't care about your opinion so don't waste my time.

Before I start, I'd like to say one thing:

I was irrational minded, I lacked belief in myself and shifting. Shifting often times felt like a chore more than a fun activity, and i have to admit, it became an unhealthy habit.

So? Why did I mention this?

Because I had been lurking around shifting communities and I realised everyone feels like this, a very (mentally) painful feeling where the lack of shifts starts acting as your biggest enemy, and the phrase:

"Shifting needs practice!"

Sounds like poison when it comes from an experienced shifter.

Though, is the phrase actually true?

No, not at all.

Shifting does not need practice!!

Here's why:

(BTW, I will explain my "method", no matter if I have time or not. Also, I don't call this reality "Current Reality", instead I call it Void reality, so don't get confused.)

The "practice" you're doing is only affecting your void reality (taking time out of your day, making you constantly think you're in your learning phase, so it doesn't exactly lead to your desired reality, does it?)

Of course, if you view it as a skill, it will in some way act like that, it'll become a skill for you, and you can never succeed on your first, second, third, hundredth try, because in your brain you have registered the fact that shifting is this grand, universal task, and that it is very difficult (because its common sense that you practice difficult things to get good at them)

Practice is a very humane and earthly act, if people have succeeded doing just practice, then good for then, they're right in their own way, but it didn't work for me, and in my opinion it's the worst way to view shifting, and often times it is demotivating, and you'll mess up you're entire journey.

Shifting is not a skill, shifting is a universal law.

I'll become more clear as I explain my journey:

My journey:

I found shifting from a random YouTube video 3 years ago. I might have only said cool and moved along.

A year later something traumatic happened in my life, which shook me so badly I needed an escape.

First of all, I chose astral projecting, but I realised I was too much of a coward to do so.

Then I came towards shifting, first DR was very typical, it was Hogwarts.

Having no knowledge whatsoever in the topics of spirituality, meditation, I went straight to methods, because they were like guides for me, I was very inexperienced, of course, and looked at other people and what they were doing for guidance.

Alice in wonderland method didn't do much, raven method was too uncomfortable (side note, all this raven method does is make you too focused on your void reality, cmon, in your DR are you laying down like a starfish?) And I was having terrible trouble with my intrusive thoughts (which made the floor disappear from under my feet, made the stairs for the stairs method too short to climb or straight up made them dissappear as well)

I didn't have any luck that year, no mini shifts, no lucid dreams, or sleep paralysis. And my DRs never remained constant. They always changed on a daily basis.

I was big on methods, I couldn't realize they never worked for me.

Although, this year of failure led me to finally figure out where I belonged.

A DR made out of scratch, which I spend much effort in putting the pieces of it together.

The DR, which was called "Home reality" really made me feel settled in my journey.

LOA, and the consciousness theory were the leading factors which made me shift.

And don't worry, it isn't what you're tired of being told, I didn't just apply any orthodox definition of LOA and succeeded.

Background to my first shift:

It was a particularly stressful day, I really missed my home.

I was studying at my college (I still am, but...) and I was dreading giving a chemistry test, I did not prepare. In my mind, one thing was constantly looping in my head.

The scenario of the chemistry teacher coming in, and taking the test, and the next day I get it handed back with a big fat zero.

But then I stopped and wondered, having already known about the consciousness theory, so according to it:

"I am constantly letting this thought run in my mind, and constantly letting this reality dictate what happens next."

Basically, I realized what was about to happen next was indirectly in my control, but with my line of thinking, I was letting this reality control it directly.

I stopped, like actually stopped thinking.

And with a blank mind I thought.

"I won't have to take any test today."

And went around telling my classmates this with a confident tone.

The teacher came in, said we'll instead do some practicals in lab.

So the test got cancelled.

Going home, I got excited, i felt powerful.

I decided to apply this to shifting.

Before shifting, I took a nap during the day, (if you're tired your body insists on sleeping, so your mind will get hazy and you will start acting lazy towards your goal)

And after living how I normally would, before bedtime, I listened to some songs, and look at a Pinterest board which reminded me of my home reality.

My method and what happened next:

First phase of shifting:

When I laid down on the bed to start shifting, I first got comfy (for me, if I feel sleepy for some reason, I laid on my back, I can't fall asleep in that position, but if I think ill stay awake until I reach a "detached state" then I sleep on my side, it's comfortable)

I obviously wasn't checking the time, but I spent about 10 minutes getting relaxed, all I do to relax is:

a) look at the blackness (closed eyes, looks like starry skies) and try to believe I'm looking at the milky way.

b) think about my home reality, just faces of my loved ones, and nostalgia inducing images.

c) Affirm, but don't focus entirely on affirming, usually in the back of my mind I'm repeating "I have shifted to my home reality" "I have shifted my senses to my home reality" "I have stopped sensing the void reality" "I am smelling, tasting, feeling, hearing and seeing my home reality" no other fancy affirmations required. (Now that I think about it, you need to affirm NOW because this method has two phases, one where you are shifting, and one where you have shifted, and you are in the 3D, where you are occupying your DR self, their thoughts, and memories, and popular method usually only have one phase, either you are shifting, or have shifted. So my point is if you affirm later and you'll be affirming when you're supposed to be in your DR, and obviously, your DR self won't be spouting out affirmations about shifting to a random reality for no reason.)

During this time, you'll feel tingly all over. It's a good sign.

And you'll feel a certain detachment, like you aren't exactly here, you have no idea what position you're lying in, and where your feet are. (Please, for the love of God do not start counting your feet or get freaked out that you can't feel your leg, you'll come back to the void reality.)

So you can start the next phase.

Middle phase (optional):

To prepare for the next and last phase, you can do this to get ready, or don't (First read the third phase)

This is all about connection to your DR.

Think about memories from your DR, focus on the faces of your loved ones, the way you act, talk, your mannerisms in your DR, or you can simply say affirmations like these one:

My name is ___.

I work as a ___.

My age is ___.

Don't try to imagine vividly or anything, lightly touch upon the basic details of your DR, the construction and foundation of any reality and the person, who has existed there for their entire life.

(That's you!)

Phase three:

Take a sudden, abrupt stop from your stream of thoughts. (Yes intrusive thoughts will still pop up but don't give any importance to them) when you're in a blank state of mind, not longer than 30 seconds, you need to build up to the last step of your shifting method, and journey.

a) start imagining hearing the voices of your loved ones or just any voice, calling your DR name, your nicknames, with different tones. (For example, i heard my name in an angry tone from my father when he was scolding me, I heard my name followed by a laughter when my S/O teased me.)

OK, for me, I started feeling intense, groundshaking symptoms at this moment. Sudden flashing of lights, extreme feeling of floating, and ofcourse, feeling tingliness so much that it felt like pins and needle on my entire body. (I did ignore the symptoms)

b) plan the rest of your day in your DR, which you will be spending.

AGAIN, PLEASE DON'T SAY IT LIKE THIS.

❌️When I reach my DR ❌️ I will have to go to that eye specialist for that appointment.

Instead: (and the more you personalize it, the better)

Ughhh, I have to go to that appointment- this day will suck.

(Don't mind my example, that was the only thing I could think of at the moment)

c) in this reality, you are constantly thinking of something, your thoughts are definitely what constructs this reality, and your current thoughts are affecting your subconscious. (By this point, your subconscious is grounded in your DR, so don't worry about that bastard.)

Now, you're going to start thinking, thoughts which are going on in your DR self's mind, start with one sentence, with which you'll be able to start consciously thinking like your DR self.

And think in the style, tone, and mood of your DR self, and keep the thoughts strictly related to your DR.

Thats it, but what happens afterwards? And what happened to me?

So for me, I started feeling weird while I was thinking.

And I remember I thought this:

"Ugh, I don't want eggs for breakfast."

(I'm not saying this is the key to shifting, at this point, I had covered various topics, including, weather, my upcoming work assignment, and praised my S/O for a good 5 minutes.)

And I started panting, like suddenly I was trying to catch my breath, the room felt bright, so I opened my eyes, and well, I was in my home reality :)

I was delirious for a few second, my S/O was looking at me worriedly, but surprisingly, it didn't even take me a minute to adjust, it felt all so natural and I wasn't scared.

I didn't even feel emotional, at all, and didn't hug my S/O with tears in my eyes, I straight up asked to be served breakfast, incase anyone was wondering.

So that's it.

Although i have much to say, I'm tired of writing, but I'm more than willing to answer each and every one of your questions, although I only have 7 hours left till I permashift, I'll remain mostly active till then.

And no, I'm not rereading this to fix my grammar, so just ask if anything confused you.

Ask away.

I'm still not sure if this'll reach anyone or not.

[static-void]

i hate it when there's a situation & i can be like. ok yes this is reasonable for me to be annoyed or perhaps even slightly upset by. but also. my brain is Overdoing It it doesn't need that much Upset. calm Down

it's a minor irritant at most why is it getting Such a reaction

[amiableness]

Kiss and Makeup

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Summary: James ruins reader’s date and attempts to make it better.

Word Count: 2829

Warnings: Jealous!James; kissing; and reader wearing heels, jewelry and makeup.

A/N 💌: A quick James oneshot that’s been on my mind, but I’m heavily consider making a second part to this.

As usual, thank you to @moonpascal for reading!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Go on, kiss and make up!” Sirius’ voice trails after you as you hurry down the corridor, James close on your heels. On any other day, you might have tossed a playful jab back at Sirius, well-accustomed to his relentless teasing about you and James. But today, the weight of everything made your throat tighten, leaving you silent, your focus fixed on reaching the safety of your dorm.

The sharp click of your heels echoed off the stone walls, and James’ muttering about your surprising speed in heels barely registers. Your anger simmers, blocking out his words as you storm ahead and shove the door open. James is right behind you, catching it just before it could slam shut in his face, determined not to let you shut him out.

“Get out, Jamie.” Though your voice was laced with anger, the way you used his nickname gave him a glimmer of hope. It wasn’t hopeless—there was still a chance to make everything better.

“I’m not leaving until we figure this out.” James says, stepping forward and leaning against the post of Lily’s bed as he watches you roll your eyes and turn into the room. He doesn’t say anything as you begin furiously grabbing clothes and scattered heels off the floor—remnants of you getting ready for a date, now tainted by the tension hanging between you two.

“There’s nothing to figure out! You ruined my date, plain and simple.” You spin around, clutching a black heel in your hand, and for a fleeting moment, James braces himself, half-expecting you to launch it at him in a fit of frustration. But it’s you, his sweet best friend—the one who cares so deeply for others that you always put them before yourself. It’s a trait that drives James a little crazy sometimes, knowing you’d sacrifice your own happiness without a second thought.

The realization only sharpens the sting of your anger, an unfamiliar weight he’s not used to carrying. He can recall times you’ve been disappointed—maybe after one of his careless pranks or his thoughtless disregard for someone’s feelings—but never this. Never this level of anger.

“I said I was sorry.” He tries, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches you scoff and turn away, angrily kicking off your heels. You bend down to pick them up, and despite himself, his eyes drift to the curve of your body. He knows he shouldn’t be looking, but he can’t help it—he’s never been able to take his eyes off you. And now, a bitter feeling twists in his gut, knowing you’re dressed all pretty for someone else.

“You’re not, though. Why the fuck did you feel the need to scare him off?” You toss the heels into your trunk and turn to face him, arms crossed. He opens his mouth to respond, but the words die before they form—because he doesn’t know how to tell you the truth. He knows exactly why, but admitting it out loud would change everything between you. And he’s not sure he’s ready for that.

The silence between you stretches, heavy and unspoken, as you wait for an answer he isn’t ready to give. You both know exactly what you’re waiting for—a proper explanation.

One you’ve been holding out hope for, quietly, for years.

“It’s not fair, you know.” You let out a deep sigh, turning to face your desk, your gaze falling on the mirror. James watches as you begin to remove your jewelry, your back turned to him, but his reflection still catches glimpses of you.The anger in your voice has softened, but he knows that if he says the wrong thing, it could all flare up again, as sharp and sudden as before.

“What isn’t?” He hesitates, watching you carefully as he takes a cautious step forward. His eyes follow the way your lips part in the mirror, the soft exhale of frustration escaping you as you fumble with your necklace.

He wants to step forward, to gently brush your hair aside and unfasten the clasp, to press a soft kiss against the back of your neck once the necklace slips away. But he can’t—so he remains still, trapped in silence, as he watches you instead.

“Why is it that you go out with girl after girl, but when I show interest in a guy, you scare him off?” You already knew the answer—weren’t blind to it. It had been clear to everyone that you and James had been circling each other for years, dancing around unspoken words.

But he refused to admit that he cared for you as more than friends. It felt pointless to tell him how you felt when it was clear James was intent on keeping you in the friend zone.

From the moment crushes became a part of your life, James had been yours. But you were never certain about his feelings—until that one night when he got blackout drunk and confessed he was in love with you. He has no memory of that drunken night, but you overheard him later, telling the boys he’d never drink that much again because he wanted to actually remember the parties he went to. You’d felt a pang of disappointment, but you were gathering the courage to confront him about it. Then, the next day, he hooked up with a girl from Ravenclaw, and just like that, all your resolve crumbled, leaving you feeling more invisible than ever.

He didn’t remember what he’d said, and if he was out with other girls, it was clear he didn’t care enough to mention it while sober.

That was a year ago, and you still hadn’t brought it up. 

So, to cope with the mess of it all, you went on a date—a rare one, the first in nearly a year. And now, here was James, wrecking it all over again.

“I—” He stops himself, clearing his throat, the tension in his voice betraying the lie before he even finishes. “I don’t think that’s true. You go out on dates.”

He knew he spent a lot of time flirting with girls—whether it was during class, when he should have been paying attention, or at parties where conversation flowed too easily. But when someone showed interest in you? That was a different story altogether. He’d like to blame it on the fact that you were his best friend, but deep down, he knew better.He was protective of you because he couldn’t stand the thought of anyone looking at you the way he did. Was it selfish? Definitely. But the thought of losing you terrified him more than anything.

“You know that’s a lie. You saw how excited I was! Why did you take that from me?” You were fully aware of how weak and accusatory your voice sounded, but you didn’t care. You were hurt, and it was clear in the way you shook your head, disappointment heavy in every movement. James watched your reflection, noticing the way you swallowed hard as if trying to shove down the swell of emotions threatening to break free. And with that, a wave of guilt slammed into his stomach, settling there like a stone.

“I just didn’t want him to hurt you!” 

“So you decided to take that off his hands and hurt me instead?” You scoffed, making James flinched as if you had slapped him. It probably would have hurt less if you had.

“Merlin, no! Sweetheart, that wasn’t what I was trying to do—”

“Then what were you trying to do, James? Because I’m getting tired of this little game, we have going on.” 

He lets out a shaky breath, his eyes following your hand as you gently remove one of your earrings. For a moment, your gazes meet through the mirror, and the weight of it all presses down on him. He wishes, desperately, that you would justturn around and face him.

He was racking his brain, searching for the right words, trying to find a way to fix this. He considered stepping back, giving you space like he did when you got agitated with him. But this felt different. It wasn’t just about a moment of frustration—it was something deeper, something that could damage your friendship permanently if he didn’t speak up. He knew he had to fix this.

“You guys make up yet?” Sirius hollered, and James could practically picture him standing at the  bottom of the stairs with his hands cupped around his mouth as he shouted at the both of you.

Sirius’ words from earlier echoed in his head as if they were taunting him, swirling around like a cruel mantra. 

Go on, kiss and make up.

It felt like an accusation, a reminder of how much he’d messed up. He could feel the weight of it pressing down on him, twisting in his gut. Every nerve in his body screamed that his next move would either make everything worse—digging the hole even deeper—or finally give him a chance to tell you why he’d ruined your date. But the fear of losing you pushed him forward.

“Tell me to stop, sweetheart.”

“Stop what—?” You ask, tossing your last piece of jewelry into the ceramic dish with a sharp clang before turning to face James. Your breath catching in your throat as he moves closer, and without thinking, you instinctively take a step back, bumping into your desk. The sudden movement rattles the items on top, sending a soft, anxious clatter through the room.

A sharp gasp escapes your lips as James reaches out, his hand gently cupping your cheek, his thumb grazing the edge of your jaw. You stare up at him, wide-eyed, and James can’t help but think how pretty you look—more than he’s ever allowed himself to admit. 

He’s never been able to admire you like this before, not without the constant fear of you catching him.

His hands are shaky, and his proximity to you is making him nervous in a way that he couldn’t quite shake. But he didn’t know how else to explain himself. So, tentatively, he let his fingers graze your skin, admiring how you melted into him. He watches, heart pounding, as your lashes flutter and your lips part in surprise at the softness of his touch. The anger in your eyes had faded, leaving behind disbelief and something that looked dangerously close to hope.

He startles both himself and you when the words slip out, low and raw: “You make me so fucking nervous.” You blink up at him, silent, processing the confession. His gaze drifts over the mascara you’d carefully applied, the gloss glistening on your lips—details he hadn’t noticed before, but now felt like a punch to his gut. The jealousy flares, burning hot and fast in the pit of his stomach. It was devastating to realize you were all dressed up, and it wasn’t for him. Those heels, thoseglossed lips—they were for a guy who hardly knew you. 

Not like James knew you.

You part your lips, and James unknowingly silences you with a gentle brush of his thumb just beneath your lower lip. A soft, satisfied smile tugs at his mouth as he hears the gasp escape you. His hand rests on your left hip, pulling you closer, grounding you against him. The tension in the room thickens, and just like that, your anger has melted.

“If you want me to stop, just say the word, sweetheart.” He murmurs, his voice low and thick with intention as he edged closer. His fingers caressing your jaw, tilting your face upwards, bringing you within a breath of him. The air between you crackles, heavy and charged, and you feel the pull—the tempting, intoxicating proximity. He was so close now, you could feel the warmth of his breath, and all it would take was the slightest movement for his lips to claim yours.

You thought about saying it—the words were right there, just on the tip of your tongue. But then his lips brushed against yours just barely, and everything else faded away. You couldn’t bring yourself to say no—not when this was something you’d wanted for years. Even with the anger simmering inside you, the frustration over James ruining your date, you couldn’t pull away.

Not now. Not when he was so close.

If anything, a strange sense of relief was starting to wash over you—relief that he had ruined it. Because if he hadn’t, it might have been another guy standing where he was now, and the thought of that made something tighten painfully in your chest.

“Last chance.” He mumbled, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes, searching for any sign that you might stop him. The only sound between you was the uneven rhythm of your breaths, erratic and heavy, pulsing with the desire that surged between you both. When you didn’t say a thing, no rejection, no hesitation—only the warmth of your breath mingling with his—he offered a barely-there smile before leaning in, his lips finally capturing yours with a slow, gentle kiss.

He started slow, cautious, as if afraid he might push you away. But the wrecked hum that escaped your throat—the sound of pure desire—told him everything he needed to know. You wanted this as much as he did.

It was overwhelming how quickly the kiss shifted—what started as sweet and searching, quickly turned frantic and hungry. The slow, deliberate pace gave way to a fiery urgency. The gentle brush of lips became a desperate meeting of mouths as the two of you gave into years of pining.

Your hands, which had been gripping the edge of the desk hard, moved slowly toward him. You let your fingers trail up his stomach, feeling the dips and ridges before reaching his chest. Your other hand found its way into his curls, youtugged softly, the motion pulling a low, pleasure-filled groan from deep within him. That sound, the sound of him unraveling, seemed to shatter something inside James. In an instant, he stepped closer—if that was even possible—until your bodies were pressed together, the heat between you two undeniable, consuming.

He pulled away just an inch, and the desperate whine that escaped your lips was enough to pull him back in, his arms circling your waist before effortlessly lifting you onto the desk. You gasped his name, the sound caught in your throat, as his lips claimed yours again, urgent and hungry. One hand slid around your thigh, pulling you closer, the heat of his body pressing against yours as he stood between your parted legs. His grip on your hip was firm, grounding, while his other hand found its place at the side of your throat, fingers warm and possessive.

You had never been kissed like this before. It was overwhelming—an all-consuming heat that ignited deep in your belly as James kissed you with a hunger, as if he’d been waiting for this moment his entire life.

And it was ruining you, because if this was how it felt to kiss James Potter, you never wanted to be kissed by anyone else ever again.

He rocked his hips against yours, the pressure making you gasp, and that breathless sound was all he needed. He deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth, tasting you as if he couldn’t get enough. You were so completely immersed in him—the feel of his lips, the taste of him—that the low, teasing whistle from your doorway barely registered in your mind.

“Bloody hell, I didn’t expect you to actually go and kiss her.” Sirius’ voice rang out, loud and unfiltered. The words struck a panic through you, your body warming with embarrassment as you instinctively tucked your head into James’ chest, hoping to hide from the intrusion. You would recognize Sirius’ voice anywhere, and you knew you would be teased about this for ages.

James, with you still propped on the desk, remained a shield, his body pressed protectively against yours. He glanced over at Sirius and Remus, who stood by the doorway. Sirius, leaning against the doorframe, raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips, while Remus stood next to him, his usually calm demeanor showing signs of awkwardness.

“Fuck off and shut the door, mate.” James groans, his arms pulling you tighter as he fights the urge to hurl a book at Sirius and Remus. Instead, he sends them a warning glare and brings a hand up to the back of your head, the heat of the moment still burning between you, and silently dares them to say anything more.

The boys hesitate, but not before Sirius calls out with a teasing smirk, “Didn’t know you had it in you, Potter. You finally got your girl.” And just like that, the door slams shut, leaving the air thick with tension and you cringing in embarrassment.

Maybe telling him you loved him wasn’t that pointless after all.

please consider reblogging or leaving a comment! it keeps me motivated to write and spread my work! 🤍

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

Trying**

Based off of the following request where Y/N is desperate for Harry to breed her already!

Warnings: breeding kink, objectification (female to male), sex (p in v), oral sex (fem receiving), cum play, breast play, dirty talk, cnc kink, free use kink, daddy kink

WC: 6.8K

When you met Harry it was the summer of the start of your masters program. You were brand new to town and had taken the recommendation of a few of the students from the previous cohort about some good, local spots you needed to visit. One of these places happened to be a brewery in the heart of the Arts District in Downtown LA, Styles’ Brewing Co.. You’d moved down to LA one month before the semester at USC started and you hadn’t really made friends yet so you decided to just go and check the place out. Worse case scenario you didn’t meet anyone cool and just enjoy the pleasure of your own company. It was a Tuesday evening when you’d strolled in. The sun was setting soon and despite the slight breeze, it was still quite hot so you were glad you’d decided on wearing a dress. And when you got up to the business, you smiled at the funky, little bar. The decor inside was like 70’s post modern theme, it instantly put a smile on your face. It was nice and cool inside and Al Green was playing over the speakers. There were a handful of people in there already, so you glanced around as you walked up to the register and looked up to the menu.

“Welcome in! If you have any questions about our selection, let me know.” The smooth British voice offered and your eyes glanced down and met the prettiest set of green eyes you’d ever seen.

“Ummm, actually s’my first time here.” You explained and his smile widened, revealing his teeth, the way his two front teeth extended a bit lower than their neighbors gave him a boyish charm though he was clearly older than you. He looked really good though, he had to be like five or six years older.

“Well that’s great! I’m Harry.” He greeted you cheerfully.

“Hello, I’m Y/N.” You said with a friendly smile.

“Well Y/N, are you a beer drinker?”

“Kinda…not really. Sorry.” You confessed a bit bashfully.

“That’s alright.” He chuckled, “Just seeing where you’re at with beer.” He assured you, “I know we have quite a large selection up there. So if you’re not sure where to start or what you might like, we can talk little bit more about your taste and I can give you a little flight of samples so that you can narrow down your options.” He offered and you were pleasantly surprised.

“Oh, that’s so sweet of you!” You smiled, “That’d be great because I am a little out of my depth here. And honestly, I can pay.” You assured him. Just then someone else walked up behind you in the line and he looked past you.

“Hey, H!” One of the person’s behind you greeted him cheerfully and he smiled.

“Hey, guys.”

“Ummm, you can help them first since I’m still figuring it out.”

“That’s kind of you.” He smiled, “Have a seat at the bar and I’ll be with you in just a minute.” He instructed and you nodded and did just that. 

After a couple of minutes he was chatting with you again, asking about what you liked and disliked about beer. What kinds of flavor profiles you gravitated towards, and things of that nature before he pulled the samples for you. He talked you through each one, he even swapped two of them out upon receiving your feedback on the previous ones until finally you found the one. It was the “Sippin’ Pretty”, a guava and elderberry sour. It smelled amazing and tasted even better. When he realized that you were there alone he spent most of his time hanging around, checking in on you. It got a little busier around 8 o’clock, but you were on your second beer by then and just people watching as Harry and another person tended to the customers. Before you knew it you were having your third beer and feeling pretty tipsy. You were giggling at a story Harry was telling you about his friend’s two year old son and nearly knocked over your glass.

“Okay, I’m pretty fucked up.” You giggled again.

“Did you drive?” He asked.

“Yeah…I didn’t plan on being here for more than two hours.” You said and he smiled.

“Let’s get some food in you then. How do sweet potato fries sound?”

“Like the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You said and he chuckled. 

“Alright, I’m gonna put an order in.” He said before hurrying over to the POS system.

You did sober up quite a bit after eating and having a glass of water and you needed to go, you’d been taking a lot of time away from Harry. You flagged him down and he came over to you quickly.

“Thank you for the VIP treatment tonight, Harry. I didn’t know I needed that.” You smiled and he smiled back.

“I’m glad you had a nice visit. Hopefully one of many more?” He inquired.

“Definitely.” You assured with a blissful grin, “I should get out of your hair though, so can I get the bill?” You asked.

“You’re good, love.” He smiled and you pouted.

“Don’t do that. You’ve done so much already, the least I could do is pay.” You insisted, “Besides, wouldn’t want you to get in trouble by comping that much.” You added and he smiled.

“Well, I’m actually the owner so…” He responded smugly and you tutted.

“Well, I believe you’ve just lost your case.” You grinned.

“How’s that?” He asked, perplexed.

“You’re a small business owner, the backbone of the local economy! If the roles were reversed I know there is no way you wouldn’t insist on paying.” You said and he smiled. “Please, Harry.” You insisted.

“Fine. But I’m applying the 15% employee discount.” He said and you grinned as he headed off to the register without allowing you another word in edgewise. You hopped off your seat and went over to the register and paid, giving the 15% back in tip which made him tut as you giggled.

“Thank you, again!” You called as you walked to the door and he smiled and waved as you headed out.

********************

By the end of your first semester, you’d become a regular at the brewery. You had become pretty good friends with Harry. You’d learned that he was 34, so 12 years older than you were. You learned that he’d been engaged but that it ended nearly five years ago. He’d earned a degree in computer science and he’d made a pretty penny when he helped develop some AI program and had sold it and had made a large sum of money from that. So he moved down from the Silicone valley fours years ago to open up this place and it was almost an instant success. He was fucking cool. You had a huge crush on him. Not only was he handsome but he was sweet as can be. 

When he learned that you couldn’t afford to fly home for the holidays, he invited you to his and his friends’ holiday party. And well, on Christmas everything between the two of you changed. Thanks to a very eye-opening kiss under the mistletoe, if you could believe it. He dropped you off at home after the little get-together and as you were saying goodbye you kissed him again and that led to you two making out for half an hour before you finally pulled apart.

“Let me take you out.” He panted before kissing your cheek and you smiled and nodded.

“Yeah.” You agreed with excitement lighting up your eyes. You really liked him, you sincerely thought he didn’t think of you in that way. Particularly because of his age, because in terms of interests and tastes, you had plenty of things in common. Regardless, you were so relieved that he was also into you.

And after that first date, things quickly heated up between the two of you. Despite how great of a catch Harry was, he hadn’t really had tons of dating experience, he’d only had two long-term partners. One during his entire time in high school and the other after he moved to the U.S., the one who he had been engaged with. And they ended things when he resigned from the job in the Silicone Valley. You on the other hand had lots of flings and little things here and there. You were a little reckless with your heart, probably the hedonist in you. But when you and Harry started talking more in depth about where your relationship would go, you learned that he only dated someone when he felt that he could develop big feelings for the person. He was cautious about who he gave his time, affection, and heart to. The fact that he was the way he was - attentive, caring, mature, stable, and wise - well, you started to fall in love with him quickly. 

Your relationship with Harry became serious quite fast, but he insisted that you two wait until you graduated to make moves towards merging your lives even more. He proposed to you over dinner the night before your graduation with your parents and siblings there for it. A few weeks after graduation you moved into his house. The time you didn’t spend together or working, was spent planning the wedding. A year later, you two were married and just relishing in your new life together. 

….THREE YEARS LATER….

You and Harry had now been married for three extraordinary years. It wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows, but most of the time it was. By now, most of your friends were married too but the biggest difference was that they were already on the baby train. One of your good friends got married because she’d gotten pregnant and the other two had their first kids just a year apart from each other. At first, Harry had baby fever far more than you did but lately there was just something in the air that had you feeling absolutely feral for him. To put it more poetically, you had a need to breed. You were feeling horny every time you were around him. 

Maybe it was the weather that was finally heating up? Or the fact that along with that, Harry would wear more t-shirts at the brewery. You’d get to see him lugging big, heavy boxes of produce or crates of glassware to and from the kitchen and bar, meaning he was constantly showing off his strength. He was so smart and strong and capable, and he was the best husband and partner to you. He gave you everything you wanted and more! So you knew that he could give you the most beautiful babies in the world. And lately, the thought was just ever present. Everything about him had you swooning.

Even now, just the way he would try to reach his big hands into the glasses to dry them properly made your pussy flutter and swell with need. Why were his arms so fucking big? And why did the masskrug look so tiny in his hands? You swear you would soon start to drool if you had to watch him any longer.

“What?” He chuckled as you just watched him from the other side of the bar top.

“N-nothing. Just…watching you. And your…big hands. And big arms.” You smiled and his eyes flickered up to yours and he smirked as he recognized the lustful look in them.

“What about ‘em?”

“Nothing really…just, I don’t know, I’m suddenly very aware of how…strong you are. S’a little distracting.” You shrugged and he hummed.

“Distracting enough that you shouldn’t be the one doing the payroll?” He asked and you giggled.

“Babe, I was an art major…I never should’ve been doing your payroll to begin with.” You joked and he chuckled.

“That’s probably true.” He joked back with a playful little grin as he glanced back down at the glass he was drying.

“You know what I’ve been thinking?” You asked.

“What, my love?” He asked without pulling his eyes from his task.

“I think I’m ready to start trying for a baby.” You said far too nonchalantly. So much so that in response all you heard was the shattering of glass as the masskrug fell to the ground. “Oh shit!” You gasped, “Are you alright?” You asked him and he glanced up at you with a smile and nodded.

“Yeah, love. M’fine. Just…surprised me with that one.” He confessed and you bit your lip to suppress your smile as his eyes bore into yours.

“I’ll get the broom.” You said softly as you prepared to hop off of the stool.

“Hey! No, no, no…don’t scamper off just yet.” He called out, “You can’t just drop a bomb on me like that.” He said with a smirk. You felt your cheeks heating up as the blood rushed up to your face.

“I was going to come back…”

“You want to have a baby?” He asked, bringing the topic back to that.

“I mean…yeah. Of course!” You shrugged.

“What brought this on?” He asked.

“Well…lately I’ve just been really…horny. But it’s more than that… it’s like…I can’t get enough of you. I just want more of you. More of us.” You said and he smiled, “I think that you’d be an amazing father and the idea of you, all handsome and rugged like you are, just caring after such a perfect and tiny little thing…I don’t know, it’s just been doing things to me lately.” You explained and he was smirking smugly at you. “Don’t make fun.” You mumbled and he shook his head.

“Of course not, my love.” He assured you, “I’m just glad you’ve finally come around.” He said and you rolled your eyes. Considering you were the young one here, you wanted to wait so that you could enjoy your marriage for a bit and have time to get your lives together before starting on a family. “But how do I know you’re not gonna change your mind? I know that you wanted to enjoy us for a while before we considered starting a family.”

“Well, it’s been three years…we’ve traveled, your business has grown, I’ve had my own exhibit like I wanted to…” you pointed out, “I mean, trying means just that, trying. It could take a few attempts and I’m ready to start if you’re…you know, also ready for that.” You said with a placid smile.

“Yeah, okay.” He said with a boyish grin adorning his face. “Should we make an appointment with your doctor?”

“Mmm…I say we do it the old fashioned way.” You said with a suggestive tone and he chuckled, “Just…go at it every chance we get until we get lucky.” You shrugged and he chuckled.

“Baby, as lovely and tempting as that sounds, I have work.” He reminded you and you grinned.

“Well based on the numbers I’m seeing here, you can afford to hire someone else.” You added and he chuckled.

“That’s how bad you want it?”

“Yes.” You responded quickly and he smiled.

“Alright, my love. Your wish is my command.” He assured and you smirked, “Damn it…” he mumbled.

“What?” You asked with a small frown.

“Now I’m hard.” He admitted and you grinned. “Though…the thought of getting you pregnant always makes me hard so…” he chuckled.

“Then do something about it.” You taunted and he chuckled. “I’m serious.”

“Right now?” He asked and you shrugged.

“Seize the moment.” You smiled.

“Baby…” he said, looking quite tortured and you just smiled at him.

“Come here.” You said and he came around the bar. You twirled around in the stool when he was before you, “I stopped taking my birth control two weeks ago…” you informed enticingly.

“You did?” he asked as he leaned down and you grabbed his face and pulled him in for a gentle kiss to his lips.

“Mmhm.” You confirmed. “Please, fuck me.” You requested.

“Here?!” He chuckled nervously and you nodded.

“I’m your wife, yeah?” You asked and he nodded before pecking your lips again, “You vowed to have me for all the days of our life, did you not?” You asked with a soft and seductive tone.

“That not how it goes… but I did…” he hummed in amusement.

“Then have me. Anytime you want. Whenever, wherever we are until you do what we set out to do. I don���t even need to come. Just need you to come. Need you to come a lot inside of me.” You said in a low and sultry voice. He was nearly panting, his fingers digging into your thighs through the light fabric of your dress. “I love you. I need you. I need you so fucking bad.” You pleaded and next thing you knew your lips were meeting in a desperate and heated kiss as your hands shakily worked at the button and fly of his jeans. When you had them and his briefs low enough to let his erection spring free, he pushed your dress up and tore your underwear off before stuffing them into his pocket. “Get inside of me. Please!” You begged hungrily and he pulled you closer until his cock was sliding through your already hot and slippery folds.

“So fucking wet. Ready to get knocked up, aren’t you?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yes.” You whispered and he kissed you again. “Do it, baby. Fuck me.” You panted. 

Without another warning he pushed against your entrance until your little hole stretched around his veiny, girthy cock. You gasped as he plunged deep inside of you on the first thrust, but you needed that. You needed him like this. Over and over, his cock rammed inside of you until you’d wince with how deep he was getting inside. It felt delicious. Your nails were digging into his big, bulging biceps as you moaned aloud without any care in the word. His deep, consistent grunts were perfectly timed with his thrusts, they made your head and tummy flutter with how deep they were. You were completely blissed out. Your skin was covered in goosebumps and your walls were fluttering and squeezing his cock deliciously. He was fighting to hold his need to come back, but then again, that’s what you wanted from him; his cum flooding your insides. Painting your insides with everything he had to give until he gave you a baby. Not just a baby, his baby. A product of all of the love you shared for each other.

Everything about him was everything you’d ever wanted. He was everything to you and having more of him in this way was something that you couldn’t even comprehend, you just needed it. It was instinctual to have more with someone who was so embedded into your mind, heart, and soul. What more was there to this often sad and destructive life than to make love and create more beauty to add to it?

“Fuck…I’m gonna come.” He groaned as he started to rub his thumb over your clit in swift little circles. Maybe you didn’t need to come, but he wanted you to. He needed to feel you spasming around his cock as he filled you up. When he heard your breath catch he smiled, “Come for me, baby. Come on my cock and I’ll give you what you want.” He panted and seconds later your legs were shaking around his hips as you thrust up to meet his deep and unforgiving plunges as you whimpered and whined as you came undone. Your sounds turned into weak little grunts that escaped your throat in perfect time with his thrusts until he was stopping deep inside of you. You could feel his cock twitching as he shot spurt after spurt of his sperm deep into you until he had nothing left to give. After he finished he kissed you deeply. “Did you mean that? Whenever I want?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, free use. I always want you, H.” You smiled, “Always need you.” You assured him as you caressed his face with the back of your hand.

“Okay, baby. But if you ever want me to stop or aren’t in the mood just say…hmmm…”

“Sour.” You suggested with a dopey smile, “After the first beer you served me.” You said and he chuckled. You weren’t always all sentimental like that, but he loved when you were.

“Alright, my love. Sours is our safe word.” He agreed before kissing your lips quickly. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up before Jeremy gets in. S’almost his shift.” He reminded and you giggled and pulled him down down for another kiss.

“Maybe delete the footage from this time frame.”

“Are you kidding me? Of course, but only after I save it…for memories, you know?” He said mischievously and you giggled. 

“I love you so much.” You hummed happily.

“I love you more, my love.” He whispered.

****************

After that first time at his brewery, there was hardly any stopping Harry. Like you’d asked before, he’d have you whenever he well pleased. It was far easier for him to picture you growing with his baby now. It didn’t matter to him that you were occupied, he’d just get your pants off or dress out of the way and plunge in and you were more than fine with that. It even happened a few times while you slept, you’d wake up with him hovering over you, sliding his cock between your spread legs. Much to his surprise, you were soaking wet about 80% of the time and when you weren’t it didn’t take much to have you dripping and begging for him to put it in. He hadn’t given much thought to the baby’s sex or even names, he just wanted a baby with you and he’d be more than pleased regardless. Like now...

You were being stirred awake by Harry turning you on your back and gently prodding into your entrance. You groaned a bit as he tried to push in a bit but you weren't wet enough for his sizable cock yet.

"Just give me minute." you mumbled.

"I want you now." he said and then you felt a warm wad of spit land over your pussy before he smeared his erection all over it and then sunk in with more ease, "There we are..." he hummed in approval as he got about halfway. He sighed in relief as your warm and tight walls started to slick up around him quickly. "Had a very pleasant dream of you showing me a positive test. Woke up so fucking hard." he panted through his thrusts and then smirked when you got even more wet for him.

"Fuck, it feels so good inside you, baby." he sighed and you moaned when he ground into you.

"A little harder, daddy." you whispered, voice still rough from sleep. He hummed and gave it to you a bit harder, the soft smacks of your bodies meeting grew a little louder. And he gradually started increasing his force until your headboard was thumping against the wall and you whined out, "T-too hard!" you whimpered and he brought a thumb to your clit.

"You know what to do if it's too much, baby." he said comfortingly. He knew you liked to get whiny every now and again. "You say "sour", right?" he asked and you nodded. "Use your words, my love." he encoruaged.

"I know." you added, "Just...a little slower, please?" you requested and those puppy-dog eyes absolutely melted him to the core. His stern demeanor softened and a little smile appeared on his mouth as he stopped and then leaned down to kiss your lips quickly.

"Okay, baby. Sorry, got a little excited over that dream." He hummed against your lips. He then started thrusting again, undulating his hips in a way that got him right up against your g-spot. "Like that?" he asked and you whimpered as he started to grind a bit harder.

"Yes, daddy! Like that..." you keened and he groaned lowly as your walls started to flutter around him seconds later. He started to rub on your clit again until you started to tremble. You choked on a moan as your orgasm started to build far too much for you to keep inside. "Oh baby, I'm...I'm gonna come!" you gasped.

"Go on, baby. Let me feel your drenching my cock. Get you ready for my cum." he panted, "Ready for me to put a baby in that pretty body of yours." your eyes rolled back and your back arched until your body just froze and your walls started to spasm as your orgasm washed over you. The gorgeous flutters of pleasure bloomed from your tummy and rippled through your body, making your legs twitch and for your finger nails to dig into Harry's thick, muscular thighs.

"Yes, baby. Yes!" he groaned as his own pleasure built up to a point of no return. His steady rhythm faltered as he grunted through three deep thrust until he was holding your hips tightly as he started to shoot his sperm deep in you. You loved how he praised you for taking it all.

And when the height of it passed he only pulled out to turn you onto your side and then spooned you only to thrust back in. He lightly shivered from the sensitivity, but he wanted all of his cum to stay inside. You pulled one of his hands up to your mouth and kissed the back of it before sighing happily.

"I'll always take care of you. You know that, right?" he asked and you nodded as you hummed, "You're everything to me." he said softly, "I already love you with everything in my being. Can't possibly imagine how much more it can grow for you once we have our baby." he said softly and you smiled.

"I think you'll love the baby the most." you whispered.

"I don't know...you're the one giving me the baby." he reasoned and you smiled. "But what I do know is that you're my whole life. I'm so fucking fortunate to have you to share this with. Love you." he hummed.

"Love you, H." you smiled.

"Want you to do something for me, baby." he added, "Gonna send you some stuff I was looking up earlier. Stuff to like prepare your body and increase your chances, you know? Give it a try?"

"Of course, baby." you agreed easily.

***************

On top of the things Harry had suggested to you, you had also been implementing your own measures to optimize your health enough to successfully conceive. You had made significant improvements to your diet and even started taking prenatal vitamins and teas that you hoped would help. And since Harry owned and worked at the brewery you asked him to please stop serving you alcohol, no matter how much you asked for it, so your taste-testing badge had been revoked. You were also getting more rest and even started exercising more with him. Incidentally, this was something that just made you more horny for him. Considering that exercise helped you produce endorphins you were in a far better mood and up for sex more than before. 

  Maybe it was a little indecorous of you, but you honestly enjoyed the dull ache that seemed to permanently reside between your legs as of late. You actually craved more of it, especially at times like these, when you watched him working out from across the gym while you just kept a moderate pace on the elliptical. He was making eye contact with you from the mirror with a subtle smile ignoring the other people who were very clearly ogling him as he did his deadlifts. You couldn’t blame them, Harry was a masterpiece of a human. He was tall, handsome, attractive, and good natured. The way his muscles tightened up as he worked through his routine made you hungry for him in sinful ways. So much so that you needed to go and fuck. Now.

You got off of the machine and went to grab a wipe to clean off the handles and buttons you’d touched before asking him to leave. He wouldn’t mind cutting his workout short, that’s what you’d be doing more of anyway if you really thought about it. You decided to gather your things from the locker in the bathroom and then head over to grab him. When you headed over to the free weights area you saw a girl trying to chat him up, he seemed a bit annoyed but was too polite to tell her to go away. It may have seemed he was fair game because he wasn’t wearing his wedding band right now (you always reminded him to take his ring off when he was lifting heavy because your wedding bands were made of gold, a soft metal, so it could easily get warped with the amount of weight he lifted), but he was all yours and you needed him now. His evident display of strength had you completely drenched in your underwear. You could feel the steady throb of your walls even as you walked over. You could see him glancing over to the cardio section through the mirror, probably searching  for you to help but you were just about to reach him.

“Baby!” You called out to him from a few feet away and he whipped around and his smile of relief made you smirk. He could see the hunger in your gaze from where he was. The girl that walked up to him looked mortified as she connected the dots before scurrying off. Harry quickly re-racked the weights he’d been using before setting the bar back in place and hurrying over to you. “I need you to get me home. Stat.” You said lowly as you walked through the gym and he chuckled.

“Alright, my love. Not a problem.” He hummed with a big, warm hand on your lower back.

In nearly twenty minutes you were carefully getting into the shower together, the foreplay was in how he talked to you and touched you as you got cleaned up. Everything was building up as he smoothed over your breasts with his soapy hands and talked about how big they’d get when he finally got you pregnant. Things like this that you never thought could rile you up were doing the job. You loved to see his big veiny hands playfully tugging and rolling your nipples between his fingers while you ground back into his erection.

“God, you’re so fucking big.” You mumbled as he rutted his erect cock again your plump backside.

“I know. Almost too big for your pretty little cunt.” He responded and you nodded in agreement. “But you like that, don’t you?” You asked and you nodded.

“Yes, daddy.” You hummed, already feeling a little loopy.

“Turn around.” He said and you twirled around and looked up at him, “How do want it, my love?” He asked and you bit your lip as your mind started to wander and imagine all of the options you had. Then, you glanced over to the bench you used for shaving, “Wanna ride me?” He asked upon noticing where it was you had looked.

“Yeah, can I?”

“Of course.” He smirked.

And before you knew it you were sinking down onto his cock impatiently. You slightly hissed at the sting of the initial stretch but kept going, pushing through the slight discomfort. You loved the pain of the stretch as he tried to fit inside of you. You sometimes grew sad over the fact that it’d never feel like the first time you had sex again, you’d only been able to take half of him that first time and you’d been so tight around him that he came twice all over your pussy and tummy. Riding him was as close as you got to recreating that. You loved how full you felt when you rode him, how it felt like he was so big that he was penetrating up into your stomach, literally rearranging your guts. It made you breathless and cock drunk so quickly. He was holding you up a good amount because the bench wasn’t as big as it looked, so you were struggling and your knees were starting to hurt and you couldn’t touch his big, taut muscles like you hoped you could.

“Fuck this, lets get out.” You panted impatiently and he lifted you up like you were nothing, holding you to his body as he quickly shut the water off, shampoo and all still in your hair. You stumbled into the bedroom and barely made it to the bed. He just sat and you started grinding away at him. You pushed his chest back and he got the hint and laid back as you started to ride him a bit harder. 

“Put your arms behind your head for support.” You said and he did so.

“Like this?” He asked and you nodded quickly. His glorious arm muscles were on full display and you could see how even his lats were nice and toned.

“Flex for me.” You requested and he did and you groaned loudly. You just wanted to bite into his biceps.

“You’re so fucking hot, daddy. So big and strong, always take such good care of me.” You panted as you rode him. Your hands roamed his chest and abs, feeling the firmness of his muscles, tracing the dip between his pecs with your index fingers and then going between his abs like you were tracing through a little maze. You started grinding in a way that he could plunge against your g-spot and he moaned over you as he felt his tip up against your spot and his eyes squeezed shut for a second.

“Fuck, right there…I’m…I’m gonna come soon.” He warned and you smirked.

“So fast?” You teased and he chuckled before wrapping his arms around you and squeezing your body tight.

“You want my cum don’t you? So what does it matter?” He asked and you melted at his question. Normally you wouldn’t mind if he came soon, you didn’t necessarily need orgasms for sex to be worth it for you. What got you off was the vibe. His energy, being present and in tune with him, making each other feel good, relishing in the intimacy of the moment. But right now, you did want to come around him.

“I want to come.” You whined softly and he suddenly flipped you back to missionary and thrust deeper into you until you gasped and pinched your eyes closed for a second.

Harry knelt up to have a better range of motion and he started going deep and slow. You could feel every inch of him sliding in and out of you, it was absolute bliss. Over and over his tip was colliding with that spot inside of you that ached and felt like ecstasy at the same time. He then slid one of his hands up your tummy until he was reaching for your breast. He groped and squeezed and felt at it in his hand. You reached for his arms and just caressed his arm. You traced up his fingers and then felt over his forearm, you were obsessed with how solid it was. Then, you worked your way up his bicep, squeezing his muscles, feeling his strength. Then, you lightly raked your nails from the butterfly inked above his abs all the way down to where your bodies were connected. His skin was littered in goosebumps and his movements stuttered.

“Fuck…” he groaned lowly and you glanced up at him, “It’s too much, baby. I’m so close!” He warned again and you smirked. Just getting to be close and feel him like this was working you up to his level. Watching him be so affected by your feather light touches was doing you in. You tickled up his other arm and he shuddered as he squeezed over your breast harder than before and you intentionally squeezed your walls around his cock. You took the time to feel it all; how he felt inside of you, how his damp skin was getting warmer and warmer the closer he got to coming. How every time you bucked up with him, your clit would bump against his pelvis, that’s how close you were. It was pushing you to the edge, you were teetering on it! 

“Me too! I’m so close, daddy!” You moaned and he started going a bit faster and you moaned breathily, “Fuck, right there! Just like that, don’t stop!” You pleaded. He was locked in on this place until he felt your thighs starting to tremble around his hips. He lowered himself and kissed you deeply.

“You’ve been so good, haven’t you, my love? Taking such good care of yourself so that you can have my baby?” He asked.

“Yeah, daddy!” You whined out.

“Fuck, I hope this is the one…” he groaned and you moaned again. “You’re squeezing so tight…shit, come for me. Come on my cock, baby.” He grunted through his hard thrusts and the tight coil of pleasure finally gave way and that tight feeling in your body started to come undone. Your hips thrusted against his without any concern for the pace he’d set as the pleasure just racked through you and wiped you out like a tidal wave. You could feeling it consuming ever nerve ending from the top of your head and down to your toes. You hugged him close to your body, letting your hands roam down his back and squeeze his ass, pushing him even deeper until he couldn’t go any further inside of you. 

“Please, put your baby in me! Come inside me, baby. Come inside me, breed me!” You whimpered and he groaned as he started to deliver hard, unforgiving thrusts as his sperm shot deep into you. The sounds coming from where your bodies were joined were absolutely filthy but you loved them. You loved that there was so much of his sperm that it made a squelchy mess for you that could be heard. You were twitchy and trembly as he filled you to the brim but that didn’t stop him from slipping out and getting on the ground to lick up your cunt. His tongue flicked at your clit until you were crying out in over stimulation as you came again. 

Your abdominal muscles were putting in work as your orgasm rippled through you, your spasming walls started to push out some of his sperm but he was not about to let any of it go to waste. 

“Nuh-uh, this cum is for you.” He mumbled lowly as his fingers slid down to about your perineum before he smeared them over your entrance carefully to get it back in you. Just knowing that the slight gape of your tight little hole was caused by his big cock made him want to fuck you all over again. He stretched you open a bit more and was able to see his cum stuffed inside of you, right to the brim. “Fuck, there’s so much of it.” He chuckled lowly as you twitched beneath him. He then laid back down and had you drape your legs over his just to keep you at an incline.

“Think we did it this time?” You asked and he smiled before kissing the back of your hand.

“Think so… but as much as I want to have a baby with you, I wouldn’t mind if it takes a little while longer. I love fucking you like this.” He chuckled his confession and you did as well. 

“This is not the position you want me in if you want this to take longer to accomplish.” You pointed out and he laughed a bit and then got up and leaned over you to kiss you slowly. You hugged him close and rubbed over his back soothingly. You wrapped your legs around him and trapped him against your body, koala style. He laughed at your silliness as he tried to pull back. “Not yet.” You pouted.

“Baby, we need to finish our shower.” He reminded. “Come on…I’ll fuck you again after. Really make it stick.” He said with a suggestive tone and you loosened your grip around him enough for him to pull back.

“I am obsessed with you.” You said and he smiled, “I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else. I wouldn’t want to.” You added softly and tenderly before arching up to kiss him deeply.

“As am I, my love. And I promise, we’re gonna keep trying as long as it takes.” He assured you. “And all through it I’m going to take such good care of you. I’ll keep you safe. S’my job, as your husband to do that. My favorite job in the world.” He smiled as he looked at you lovingly.

“I love you so much.” You hummed.

“Love you.” He whispered.

>> Next Part>>

Trying update ask! (WC: 3.7k)**

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Tutorial on how to edit graphics! (Or improve your edits! + tips!) Part 1..

Well firstly, if you’re entirely new to editing or a beginner. Then editing can seem very confusing and tricky, especially the intense psd, cluttered kind of edits, mine are also very cluttered but I think the best way to go as far as being a beginner is to figure out what style you want to do.. minimalistic? Cluttered? Eye strain? Gif/animated? I personally don’t do very many animated graphics and I also don’t do eye strain, so.. you’re on your own for that but it’s important to know what ur GOAL is. You need to know the basics of editing before doing anything else.

The editing apps I recommend are photopea and ibisPaint X, both are free. I really don’t recommend any paid apps other than ibispaint.. yes there’s ibispaint x then ibispaint. (The paid version has everything in it and is a one-time purchase, and has the same mechanics as the free version. If you are editing on pc or laptop, there is a version of ibispaint on desktop but you are only able to use it for 1 hour, if you are most comfortable with ibispaint then you can just delete it and re-download it. But if you don’t want to do that (you can use photopea!) I don’t use photopea so this will be a tutorial using only ibispaint! I can probably find a moot of mine that uses it LOL

So as far as resources go.. they’re everywhere.. I know @/lavendergalactic, @/llocket and @bydollita have a lot of good resources. (I didn’t fully mention the other two because well.. they’re not my moots so I felt awkward LOL) I can probably post some of my most used ones on a separate side blog like I did with my last account so.. also tell me if ur interested in that.

But for the basics of your resources: you want the character or person. An image then a transparent cut-out of them, a frame and/or pfp/image mask to use, and some decorative PNGs like bows, curtains, hearts, whatever you’d like. I can link some good resource rentries too!

Once you have all of that: find a reference/inspo, if you are taking HEAVY inspiration off of someone from tumblr or whatever, PLEASE check if they are okay with it, message or send them an ask in their inbox if it’s okay.. or they might have it somewhere on their pinned post if they allow it.

And now.. the question ur probably asking.. how do I do all of that?!

I had quickly made this. You can see the main components. The character cut-out, the inner image behind the frame, the decor, and the silly texts and textures behind the graphic to make it pop.

If you want ur graphics to be this cohesive there’s a few things to note. You need to know colours look best together, what style of editing looks best with certain art styles, and characters.

If you’re wondering “why does this character look so out of place?” Or just finding yourself in a rut with certain characters, you need to examine the character, like you can’t make a goth style graphic with a happy and cheery character like emu otori (depending on the card you choose) or like paimon from Genshin impact.. like that’s just gonna look SILLY. So take note of what this character looks like and what their original colour palette is. Are they a happy person? Are they emo and depressed? What colours do you usually see this person in?

Having range in your editing style will help you a lot, so branch out and edit different characters, and use different colours, and aesthetics!

Now for colours, you need to understand colour theory which quite frankly.. I am not about to teach out so probably at the end of this post I will have some videos linked for you to look at and watch that just overall will help you understand better how to edit that includes a video about colour theory!

If you are an editor and find yourself not being able to edit a certain style or can’t fulfill someone’s request for a certain aesthetic.. don’t be afraid to decline because a lot of the times you’ll have people who know nothing about what looks good with ur editing style or what aesthetics fit certain characters so it’s okay to decline stupid people… (/j.. they’re not stupid but ykw I mean..)

Using the stroke filter on ibispaint or photopea, aswell as the glow filter on ibispaint make ur edits look VERY good! (I use it on everything because it gives everything a little bit of separation yk? So you can see the different layers to the graphic!

Using textures over top of your graphics make it look very visually appealing aswell!

So as I mentioned I will link some videos, and I will also link some posts for good textures, and then add some photos for downloadable fonts to use on ibispaint (if you don’t know how to download fonts on ibispaint I can make a tutorial too! If you are also confused on how to use ibispaint they have a built-in tutorial, and it’s also best to learn as you go, look at all of the filters, the effects, the built-in images/materials)

Please for the love of god.. DONT over-do it with ur overlays and psds, unless that’s the style you like, don’t do it.. me personally.. I don’t like it but if you like it then go right ahead but over-usage of overlays and colourings make it look kinda bad 😭 and kind of confusing to look at, please make sure you can see the different components of your graphics and what is what.. if it’s too confusing to look at, chances are you’re less likely to have people like it or enjoy it. And don’t over-do it with fonts either… people need to be able to see whatever ur trying to say.. I wear glasses and people who over-do stupid fonts piss me off.. I literally block them, so keep that in mind aswell 🫶🏻

Photopea tutorial How to use a pfp/icon mask Colour theory If you needed a visual for how to make graphics here you go Some textures and overlays How to make a rentry How to use borders on rentries How to make blinkies

Some tags for reach: @frilliette @blinkndgone @hellhoundsdoth0wl @smilepilled @nomkiwi

[is-this-even-relatable]

Misfortune Teller

tldr: An older Danny, apprentice to Clockwork, does a lot of field work across dimensions, resetting the timeline, queuing future events, and who knows what else. Occasionally, he warns people about such upcoming possibilities, to set them on the right path. How, you might ask? Well in this case... as a wandering fortune teller.

Crack-fic (oh god, it's getting long and my logic brain won't let it remain as crack) where Danny becomes Clockwork's apprentice after getting his GED. Living his infinite afterlife to the fullest. Inspired by this tumblr post.

Working for Clockwork had been... interesting so far. At first, Danny got frustrated by how vague and cryptic Clockwork was. He'd just shunt Danny off to some ancient time with a few words, his own time medallion (Danny carried it everywhere with him now), and then pop back into the portal, leaving Danny with only the faintest idea of where to go.

Eventually, after enough time (ha!) spent around Clockwork, Danny figured out that it just basically meant that he had free reign and to do whatever he wanted. Because if he went on the wrong path, (like that one time in Pompeii when he had almost caused the volcano to explode a few years too early), Clockwork would just pop on by, say another few cryptic words, and then it'd all be fine and dandy, or as he liked to say, "All is as it should be... Now stop practicing your wail by an active volcano."

After telling Jazz about that (it was supposed to be funny, not concerning), she just sighed and shook her head, with a forlorn "think before you act, Danny!" but hey, it'd turned out fine so far, so who cares how he does what Clockwork asks him to do, as long as it gets done, right? Even if it's with a liiiiitle more mischief than strictly required.

Besides. Danny was the one who had been doing time shenanigans across millennia, not Jazz. And he thought he'd been getting pretty good at it too! He'd actually started giving himself a different made-up background for each universe he visited. Sam and Tucker were helping him keep up with the identities on a spreadsheet, so if he had to go back to one he'd already visited, he'd remember who he'd said he was supposed to be.

---

He was on a call with them one evening while haunting Jazz's apartment, doing just that, when he felt a familiar tingle in the back of his throat, as well as a heightened awareness of the seconds passing by, that always accompanied his mentor's appearance.

Sam was talking about his past stint posing as a god of death when he cut in. "Hey- sorry to interrupt, Sam- Clocky's here, guys, I gotta dip."

"Aw, come on! We hardly talked any this past week since you passed your certifications, man," Tucker complained.

Danny rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah, yeah. Partly on you too though, you've been caught up outside of class, and Sam's schedule is nearly the opposite of yours."

Sam hummed in agreement despiter Tucker's scoff.

Danny missed hanging out with them as much as they had in high school, but hey, life goes on. Or at least, theirs did, to college. After finally flunking out of Casper High, he'd taken some time to get used to his responsibilities in the ghost zone, and when he had, he realized that he didn't really have much enthusiasm or timeleft for his human life.

And he didn't really want to go back home either.

But Jazz had made him tie up any loose ends before he noped-off to god knows where, which frankly, he had to thank her for. Getting his GED took a few years, but it was an accomplishment that could be attributed to Danny Fenton, no ghostliness required. Then he was able to let that tether go free.

Pulled out of his musings by a few more grumbles from Tucker, Danny said his goodbyes, promising to call the next time they were all available.

After hanging up, Danny swiveled around, anticipation already lighting up his eyes an ethereal green.

Clockwork, for his part, had been waiting patiently through Danny's lengthy goodbyes. Although he supposed that it tracked for the watcher of time to be patient. With his job, it'd be a nightmare if he wasn't.

"Phantom," Clockwork spoke, calm as always. "I have some tasks I need you to complete as my apprentice."

And Danny, always ready for adventure, didn't need him to explain any further. "Sure! When do you need me to be?"

Clockwork smiled at that. "I am fortunate you are eager. Follow me."

---

Danny popped into existence in this universe with a burst of cold air and static electricity. He found himself hovering by a clocktower above a sprawling, gothic city. Smog and light pollution obscured the stars above him, to his disappointment. He comforted himself with the fact that he'd probably have all the time he wanted to fly someplace less populated to see them later.

He started off by familiarizing himself with the city. As he flew, he followed the trail of power and met the resident city-spirit, a spooky- but kind underneath- woman draped in black lace, who told him her name was Gotham. He spoke in length with her about this universe, its heroes, and her knights. On that, she was very enthusiastic... or at least Danny thought she was, her projected emotions belaying much more than her gloomy exterior. She told him how her knights had been through a lot and would need some guidance fighting the darkness that pooled in her deepest corners, smiling with too much glee, filling lungs with fear, and terrorizing with cold hard bullets.

Danny could sense that the dangers she spoke of were growing in power, ever slowly. The longer they shadowed people's minds and hearts, an intangible thing grew that lent them more otherworldly pull than their physical forms had right to hold.

That must be what he was sent here for.

But... they were weak, pitifully so for him, infinite king as he was. And besides, he wasn't here in that sense. He was a messenger, a simple apprentice. And he could do this however he wanted.

Cue his talk with Lady Gotham, and subsequent idea to arm her knights. With what? Well, he figured knowledge would be a start. Flying high above the city invisibly, Danny noticed a sea of colors and lights by what appeared to be the city's pier. He flew down, noting that it appeared to be the setup spot for a travelling circus or carnival of some kind.

He considered what to do. One of Lady Gotham's troubles was a madman clown, right? Well maybe he'd be attracted to his ilk here... and with the danger came the knights. Maybe he could catch one of them here?

Danny was floating around at the entrance and beginning to formulate a plan when a flyer caught his eye. Looking for a mystic to read fortunes. URGENT!

Hadn't Clockwork said something about fortunes? And he hadn't made an identity in this universe yet...

A mischievous smile crept across Danny's face, splitting it in two with far too many teeth.

---

Half a city away, a man in all black, perched on the very same clocktower that Phantom had Appeared by, shivered as he felt an ominous premonition about his sanity in the near future...

Said man quickly opened his comms to check in with his many, many kids. Yet even after hearing back from each, he still felt apprehensive.

Somewhere even further, Clockwork laughed.

---

And that's how Danny found himself seated at a fortune teller's booth at a pier in Gotham, two days later, for the Tricksy Traveling Circus's grand opening.

[gb-patch]

GB Patch Games: Response About Sensitivity Reader

[Some of you might not have heard of this happening, but I wanted to address it across the board]

Hey everyone,

I want to make a post about the screenshots of comments from one of our sensitivity readers. The situation is that neither me or Rose want people to feel uncomfortable with Our Life: Now & Forever, but Rose hasn’t done anything terribly wrong and isn’t going to be punished.

The comment about OL MCs wasn’t meant to be genuine hatred towards all male players/MCs of OL. Rose wrote a reply about it-

"Hi everyone! This is Rose, I want to address the male MC comment since it was taken wildly out of context and without the lengthy discussion that was after it. I don't hate male MCs, in fact far from it, male MCs are integral to the story in OL:NF as female and trans MCs are. I think the relationship they could potentially have with Qiu could be a great asset in my opinion as they figure out their gender alongside the MC. The discussion itself was about how I noticed players were sticking to heteronormative norms by shipping Tamarack with a man purely out of societal norms than it was genuine thought into the characters and how I personally wished there was more sapphic relationships with Tamarack or just Tamarack with trans characters as a sapphic trans person myself. I didn't mean to offend anyone by it as no one but my friends who understood what I legitimately meant behind my message and it definitely wasn't meant to be seen seriously. I am sorry regardless to anyone I have offended and I love your male MCs regardless."

And most of the comments were about me. I’ve seen screenshots of the full conversations and they’re not as harsh as the cropped snippets made them out to be. It was longer discussions about not including Derek in any base game Moments for no good reason and not having any plus-sized love interests in OL1 because I was afraid players wouldn’t accept it. That’s not a lie, it’s what I decided for the game I created, and it is ridiculous of me. I’m the one who should be feeling embarrassed over how OL1 will forever be that way, not the people who remember that I did that. I’m not perfect and Rose actually cares more about the players than making me feel like I am flawless.

I also don’t want to tone police an employee venting about their boss in private, on their own time. Both the OL games deal with personal, important topics. This is sensitive work, and it can bring up frustrations. Sometimes people do use harsh words among friends, but they wouldn’t ever say it to a person seriously and directly.

I understand if you wouldn’t want to see anyone speak badly of a dev you like, but I promise it’s not a point of contention between me and Rose. I don’t feel mistreated in anyway. Rose genuinely cares about the Our Life series, and that’s why they get fed up with me over certain parts of the game.

Rose has never been unkind or unreasonable to me when working on the project, and their advice is detailed and well-explained. They do care about the game and want it to avoid having content that upsets people because of my own ignorance/shortcomings.

This being shared publicly from a private server is targeting Rose and seems to be a continuation of things that have happened before this. I don’t want this to continue happening. If you do still have concerns over the one comment about the community, you can let me know. But again, I don’t want people being mistrustful of Rose on my behalf for comments about me in conversations with missing context.

Do not send angry messages to Rose about any of this. We’ll do our best so that OL2 will be better than I was before. Thank you to everyone who reads this and participates in the community!

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: Plus One

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: panic attacks

Paring: Paige Bueckers x fem actress reader

Fandom: UConn's Women's basketball

Summary: it's was a joke til it wasn’t

It all started as a joke. I had no idea who to take as my plus one, so I did what any rational person would do—I tweeted.

"So... I need a date for my first movie premiere. @paigebueckers, what's good? 👀"

Then I posted the same thing on Instagram with a picture of me fake-proposing to an Oscar statue from set. It was meant to be lighthearted, a little funny. I had been a fan of Paige for years, and UConn fans were relentless. I figured a few of my new followers from the movie might hype it up for fun.

What I didn’t expect was for it to blow up overnight.

My notifications were chaos. UConn fans, my own fans, random sports pages—everyone was tagging Paige. Memes. Edits. The whole internet was basically playing matchmaker. It was both hilarious and terrifying.

Then, the next morning, I saw the notification.

paigebueckers: "👀 Sounds fun. You still need a date?"

I had to reread it like five times.

She DMed me. Paige Bueckers actually DMed me.

It felt surreal having Paige Bueckers, actual basketball star, knocking on my hotel room door. She looked casual but effortlessly cool in a tailored lavender suit, her blonde hair pinned up in a way that made my brain short-circuit.

"Ready, superstar?" she grinned, offering me her arm.

Somehow, I managed to function enough to get into the car with her. We chatted on the way, and I tried to act like I wasn’t internally freaking out. But the moment we pulled up and the cameras started flashing, my body locked up.

Paige got out first, then circled around to open the door for me. I wanted to move. I really did. But my chest tightened, my hands shook, and suddenly it felt like I couldn’t breathe.

"Hey," Paige’s voice was soft but firm as she crouched down, reaching for me leaning into the SUV. Her hands gently cradled my face, thumbs brushing over my cheeks. "Look at me, okay?"

I barely managed to lift my eyes, but hers were steady, grounding.

"Breathe in," she instructed. I did. "Now out."

I followed her lead, mirroring her slow, measured breaths.

"You’re good," she reassured me. "You belong here. And I got you, alright?"

I nodded, and she gave me one of those easy, Paige Bueckers smiles that could probably end wars.

"That’s my girl."

Somehow, I managed to get out of the car and onto the red carpet, Paige right beside me. The rest of the night was a blur of flashing cameras, interviews, and surreal moments, but Paige was the one thing that kept me grounded.

After the premiere, we ended up at an In-N-Out in full glam, eating burgers in the parking lot and laughing like we’d known each other forever.

That night, we exchanged numbers.

We kept in touch. At first, it was casual—texts, FaceTime calls, inside jokes. But then it became something. Paige was the person I called when I was stressed, when I had good news, when I just wanted to talk.

So when my second premiere came around, I didn’t post a joke about needing a date. I didn’t have to.

Paige texted me two days before:

Paige: "I’m free that night. Wanna go together?"

Me: "Like… as my date?"

Paige: "Well, duh. I thought we established that at In-N-Out."

I didn’t even know how to respond, but I smiled at my phone for an embarrassing amount of time.

Somehow, Paige and I had gone from a joke tweet to walking the Met Gala red carpet together—as wives.

She looked effortlessly stunning in a soft bule, black, purpleish,pink, grey suit, her marble-finished wedding band catching the light. I had a sterling silver set with an emerald-cut chocolate diamond that Paige had picked out herself.

As we walked down the carpet, photographers caught the moment we intertwined our fingers, flashing our matching rings. The buzz around us was deafening.

Then came the Glambot.

Paige pulled me close, her hand resting at the small of my back. The camera glided toward us in slow motion, and just as it reached the perfect angle—she kissed me.

Soft, warm, perfect.

I could already see the internet losing its mind again.

But at that moment, I didn’t care about the cameras, the fame, or the flashing lights.

All that mattered was Paige. And the fact that somehow, a joke tweet had led me to the love of my life.

---

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[moonlightcycle571]

Captain Marvel being a Girl Dad (Raven)

Captain Marvel should have a mentor/dad brotherly relationship with Raven, Zatanna and any of the Wonder fam. In this Essay, I will-

Actually I will. Starting off with Raven.

She deserves a magic mentor and non evil father figure in her life. Swoops in Cap who offers to transfer Trigon to the Rock of Eternity / the Monster Lands, both able to hold Trigon his end of demonic life.

Are you telling me Raven would see this happy Pitbull of a man and not get attached? Are you also telling me Billy wouldn’t jump at the chance to show her the Rock? Lend her books from the Library of the Rock, which might as well be the magical Library of Alexandria, at the first hint of interest?

Although Billy would see it as having friend to talk about his special interest (magic) and sharing it with them. Raven sees is as a new mentor figure.

Captain: And this book is one of my absolute favourites (it’s a book given to a past champion and remembers it like it’s his own)

Raven: Thanks Dad

Captain, is used to people calling him dad (dad Marvel au): anytime 😁😁😁

Raven, inwardly: this confirms it, I have a new dad 🥳

which I’m pretty sure would have this

Captain, noticing a really good book but it’s in a forgotten language: do you want me to read this book to you?

Raven, who never had a bed time story in her life: I’m winning

Also this

Captain: oh no, I lost my (league communication device) phone

Raven, unashamed: sure

Phone rings: Dad, you’re my Dad! Wookie Wookie Wookie

The rest of the Titans:

Raven: smug

Captain: Thanks :)

If Billy gets an apartment from his Whiz Job, with a hidden portal he made to the Rock and it has spare rooms so he gives one to Raven, that’s their business

Dad Marvel AU: everyone fighting on who’s the favourite child

Raven: well at least I get to live with him

Everyone: …

Raven: And he reads to me, and cooks for me AND helps me with my extracurricular (magic training)

Everyone: *definetely not crying*

Bonus:

Beast Boy is like a son-in-law that turns son figure. Or is he a son figure turned son-in-law?

Beast Boy: I can turn into a tiger

Marvel: Welcome to the family

Beast Boy:

Beast Boy, tearing up: happy to be here

If this is before or after he started dating Raven, that’s up to you.

Bonus 2:

Captain Marvel and Raven meditating next to a magic waterfall cause Billy knew a good spot to help relax

Random explorer, who was searching for said waterfall for years cause it’s rumoured to have magic properties: I-

Takes a picture and captions “tracked down a site for seven months, took 3 months to find location and one more to get to it. This is what I fuckin find.” #Capesknowtoomuch #pleaseshareinfirmation and #gatekeepingisntheroic

The post went viral. #BigRedCheese&GothDaughter

[alexaloraetheris]

Oh boy, I feel like it's time for a post nobody will like.

We all know clothes are getting worse. Recently I found some jeans I bought in high school, and since I lost weight recently I tried them on and they fit, so I'll be wearing them once we get out of the Hell season.

But I took them and compared them to the most recent pair of jeans I bought, and... Honestly the difference in quality is so fucking stark it made me want to give up on life. The jeans I wore in high school have gone through everything. I'm talking half of Europe here, because one of our teachers was pretty big on school trips everywhere she could get the money for. They've been washed, tumbled, survived an actual car crash and they're still good.

The most recent pair I machine-washed ONCE, everything else was hand-wash only. I babied them to the max because they made my ass look like was on Instagram. Do you know what they look like now?

They're full of fixes like these. They lasted less than a year on their own. I got another decent year out of them SOLELY because I kept fixing them. And fixing them again. The crotch alone I had to fix SEVEN TIMES. I COUNTED.

And these weren't cheap jeans! C&A jeans tend to be around 40$ these days, and I got these for about 30 with a discount. I expected them to last me AT LEAST a few years, because those high school jeans? THEY'RE THE SAME FUCKING BRAND.

Considering this was the quality I was getting for nearly 40$ I figured I might as well get the same quality for 15$ and downloaded SHEIN. I didn't get jeans from them but I got some light, fluttery summer pants in the style that, honestly, I fucking love. I got three pairs for the price of one C&A jeans, and I am aware I will have to baby them even more, because out of the five pairs of pants in total I have bought on SHEIN only ONE is made of the fabric that I might be brave enough to machine wash. And with SHEIN continually getting sued for using sweatshops I probably won't be getting those pants again.

So what to do with that shitfuck situation?

I am insanely lucky my grandma knew how to sew really well and didn't mind me looking over her shoulder as long as I was quiet. I am aware that's not a skill everyone has, but quite frankly? When nobody has any money and even paying big bucks for clothes does not guarantee any kind of quality, and even fucking THRIFT STORES are full of just junk now, I think it's time to face the facts.

You need to learn how to sew.

I'm not talking about sewing your own clothes, though if you can and you have the time and patience, it's probably the best option (good luck finding decent fabric, because we can't even find THAT anymore unless you're ordering from fucking Belgium). I'm talking about fixing up seams and sewing on a patch, little repairs that make your clothes last. It might be junk, but with sewing you can make it last twice as long for the price of a spool of thread.

Now that I've pissed off everyone who is, for some reason, morally opposed to learning how to sew because it's a 'girly hobby' or 'supporting the patriarchy' (a take that left me baffled like nothing else) I'm going to piss off everyone who already knows how to sew.

I recommend getting this little guy.

It's called a stapler sewing machine, for obvious reasons. If I recall correctly, it was invented to fix clothes on the go for fashion shows and/or cosplay. It does only a chain stitch and needs to be pushed manually, but if you need to, like, hem your trousers and you don't want to spend half an hour on doing it manually (and don't already have an actual sewing machine) this is a lifesaver.

Here's a tutorial how it operates:

Now, why am I recommending this? Because it will only set you back six bucks. I got two right off the bat because I was banking on one not working (and I was right) and so I could use it for spare parts. The one in the video (Spring Come) is the one I have as well, and it's the one that actually works. I can't vouch for any unmarked ones, but the blue one works. It IS a little temperamental, but with a bit of practice it makes things so much easier.

The reason I'm not recommending an electric machine of any kind, even the one that costs 18$, is because, if you're a beginner, then an automatic sewing machine becomes a machine that exponentially speeds up the rate at which you make mistakes, and if it breaks down, good luck fixing it unless you have a dad/uncle/friend who knows his electronics. This thing can be fixed with a screwdriver, and takes the same needles as an ordinary sewing machine.

You can buy a bundle of needles just about anywhere for any price and they'll be decent as long as they're steel, but I would recommend looking for some actual better quality thread. Everywhere else, you can pinch pennies, but the thread itself is what's holding your clothes together, so this should be the part where you're looking for quality instead of price.

Alright, those of you who didn't scroll past with a derisive scoff at my take, I hope I've been helpful.

[bad-system]

— let's talk KCD3

i finally collect my thoughts and speculations on the possible continuation of the KCD franchise in this post - but please march into this knowing these are speculations born of my own biased narrative and hopeful bastardizations of real events. unlike KCD, i will try to adhere to the real life dates provided primarily by wikipedia as no dates or years were specified for KCD3. and finally - this is only a speculation of what a KCD3 plot might look like IF it was confirmed. as of today's date, no confirmations about the sequel of the games has been announced. PS: i am not a historian. i just like history.

PART: 1 2 3 4 5

_________

my primary speculations will be aimed at the main protagonists of the KCD franchise - henry of skalitz and hans capon (jan ptaček of pirkštejn) with the assumed relationship between them being romantic post KCD2.

— jan hus

the reason i find myself making this theory at all is because a couple of very important things are about to happen in a very close future in bohemia. among political tensions that followed wenceslaus iv with every step and the beginning of the anti-church sentiments sown by one jan hus, the next 10-20 years will turn out to be formative for the future of bohemia.

to be extremely brief, jan hus' teachings targeted the body of church as a whole, denouncing the popes, bishops, priests and the acts of paying for any kind of dissolution of sins. jan hus believed church to be leeches who got rich off of poor people and demanded the clergy to be stripped of any worldly possessions if they wanted to preach. he also believed only jesus christ and the lord could be the judges of sin; that no body of church could sell forgiveness or blessings.

— hussites

following the teachings of jan hus, the hussites emerged as soldiers from the commonfolk following the death of jan hus in 1415 (burned at stake). two prominent factions formed within hussites - the radical taborites and the moderate utraquists.

it was in the taborites that jan žižka emerged as a prominent figure, and he had made his first significant mark on history in 1419 when he participated in the first defenestration of prague.

so, as you can see, there was a significant gap between jan žižka's time as a roadside bandit in 1403 and his rise to fame in 1420s. that had been in part because it is speculated he had been serving as a king's courtier to king wenceslaus iv and his family. (funny detail; at some point wenceslaus calls žižka "faithful and beloved" in a special letter LOL)

_________

— and your're still reading this probably wondering "where is the part where he talks about hansry" but worry not, it is here.

if you checked hans capon's (jan ptaček) wiki you would have seen that later on, he follows the lead of his poweful neighbour petr of šternberk on the anti-hussite and pro-sigismund side. petr of šternberk was prominently pro-sigismund, had very strong anti-hussite views and was a famous hussite killer and enemy of jan žižka. hans will do this for reasons unknown to us and reasons that the game would probably improvise on.

this is where i would put the heart of henry and hans' conflict. both henry and hans have been vocally and actively pro-wenceslaus since KCD1, which would also translate into being pro-hussite in the future.

here is also where i mention the not so subtle moment in KCD2 when žižka approaches henry with the offer to join the fight by his side, because that was very deliberate and sets us up pretty well for the next installment of the game if it comes to be.

this is also the point i would consider crucial to the testament of henry's character. up to this point, henry had been following people; radzig, hanush, hans, jobst, prokop, john of lichstenstein on the side of wenceslaus. i think it would be important for henry to decisively choose a side in this conflict, not only because it was sigismund's forces that razed skalitz, but also because this is a cause he himself believes in rather than follows for the sake of loyalty or revenge. and i'll say - those are both valid motives, but i feel like it would mean a lot more and feel like a big step in his character development to choose a fight he believes in rather than feels obligated to.

thus i believe henry would join the side of jan žižka and subsequently hussites.

but wait! it gets better. henry's own father, radzig kobyla, would go on to join jan žižka in waging guerilla campaigns against the rosenbergs while in service of king wenceslaus. i believe this was happening during the years 1406—1411. so, henry running with this band would make a lot of sense to me from the perspective of both henry's motives and loyalties. so by the year 1419, which i'm naming now for malevolent reasons i will reveal further down, henry would be established as not only pro-wenceslaus but also as a hussite in the coming years.

and now you're probably wondering "but what about hans and henry kissing?" well. the story of KCD is about henry more than hans, and i believe the emergence of anti-sigismund movements that henry would be required at just as hans is about to be conveniently married off presents the story with an opportunity to separate hans and henry for a while, and sets us up with the heartbreaking promises of "i'll come back for you." while hans settles in as the new lord of pirkstein if the game lore allows it. we do not know whether warhorse will follow the timeline of wikipedia on the matters of hanush refusing to give up his estates to the rightful heir, hans capon, or whether they'll force hanush to hand the estates over to hans in the coming years when his son gets born.

if that does happen, hans would be presented with the opportunity to show what he's learned about responsibility during the events of KCD2 as a newly appointed lord of his own estate.

thus, henry is whisked off to fight for the king, father and the people as hans takes over his lordly and familial duties as a new father if we're to believe wikipedia that his son heinrich (hynce), named after his lover henry, was born in the year 1404.

so why did i mention the year 1419?

well, for reasons you're probably not going to like.

it is my firm belief that up until the year 1416-ish henry and hans would have enjoyed eachothers company often, as lovers and as envoys of the highly politically important subjects such as john II of lichstenstein, margrave jobst and prokop, radzig kobyla, jan žižka and king wenceslaus iv himself. this probably doesn't satisfy the needs of many of you for their fluffy happy ending, but i am taking into account primarily their duties to the crown/class/people and then their romantic relationship, because that was unfortunately the hand they would most likely have been dealt.

why up until 1416?

it was in july of 1415 that jan hus was burned at the stake, and the hussites movement grew stronger than ever, to the point in 1419 where the first major hussite battle happened. battle of živohošť, an event that occured in november of 1419, was fought under the command of petr of šternberk, with hans capon in tow, as he had decided to side with his powerful neighbour as mentioned earlier.

now this would present the story with a unique opportunity of putting hans capon and henry of skalitz on opposing sides.

hans, while loyal to henry and the rest of the wenceslaus + hussites, was ultimately forced to join the side of opposition, and thus had political obligations he had to fulfill owing to his duties as a lord of his estates.

it is during this battle that i could see henry getting killed off for the sake of driving the plot. poetically, two lovers find themselvese on the opposite sides of a battlefield, one fighting for something he believes in with the traitor on the other side, fighting in accordance with duty.

according to hans' wiki, it was after this one, singular battle that he switched sides and even signed a declaration in favour of the moderate hussites, even with petr of šternberk still alive at this point.

with his documented presence ceasing here, it is presumed that he had died in 1419, as his son hynce, 17 years old at the time, succeeded his father's estates in 1420.

in my tragic telling of the story of KCD3, henry's death on the battlefield is what spurs hans on to sign the declaration in support of the ideology his henry had died for, perhaps as a last gesture in favour of his dead lover.

and in true KCD2 galehaut and lancelot fashion, hans capon would perish from grief, mourning his best friend and the love of his life.

this, in fact, perfectly sets the franchise up for KCD4 if this were the case; with hans and henry both out of the picture, you emerge as the young nobleman heinrich, aka henry, named after the greatest man his father had known - the year is 1420 and the hussite wars have lit the flames of the bohemian people's revolution.

_________

if you've read this far, congrats. the amount of research i've spent on the hussite wars, holy roman empire, the western schism, john wycliffe, jan hus, jan žižka and bohemian game of thrones is frankly ridiculous just for the sake of this post but i guess someone had to do it. feel free to agree or disagree in replies. and sorry.

[kamabokobun]

Abandoned wip Cassie & Roxy figures. From ~2023

They’re about to go into storage, so I took some photos. And I figured I might as well post them since they’re never getting finished. So yeah

More photos & notes below the cut :)

Cassie! Her design is sooo cute. I enjoyed translating her into my style + into 3d. I was (& still am) really happy with how I sculpted her face and hair. Up until this point I rarely sculpted human faces, so I was surprised how well it turned out (then again it’s very stylized so. Whatever). And her hair came out almost exactly like my reference drawing! Which doesn’t happen as often as I would like it to. The paint job came out nicely as well, I’m especially proud of the sneakers and the tiny stars & flowers on her cardigan. Anyway, She was looking really good overall! That is until she fell off my shelf and broke her neck. Unfortunately, that was the breaking point (lol) for me, as I was already having problems with Roxy, and I didn’t want to go through the trouble of repairing her tiny little neck after she was almost fully painted, so I scrapped the project entirely.

Only a few Roxy photos since she wasn’t painted. I had made her before cassie, (I was originally going to only make Roxy) but never managed to get to the painting step for mainly one reason: Her neck kept breaking. (I have bad luck when it comes to necks, it seems. Probably because I like chibi proportions.) I had to repair her neck, like, 5 times, before finally deciding to use apoxie sculpt instead of my regular polymer clays. (Which I probably should’ve done sooner) But then the apoxie dried in the wrong position, so she couldn’t stand on her own anymore (she needed to be in a very specific pose to stand. her hair is heavy!!). Thinking back on it, I’m really sad I never got to paint her, because I think her form ended up looking really nice. If you’re wondering why neither Cassie nor Roxy have eyelashes, that’s because I was planning on doming both of their eyes with resin, then sculpting eyelashes on top. But I never got to that step. Fun Fact!: Roxy’s eyes are glow in the dark :) so is Cassie’s flashlight

And lastly, here is the art I made for me to reference. Left is the original sketches, and right is the revised poses/designs + traced off of the figures I had already started making. Fun fact: halfway through sculpting (after baking in the pose) I realized that, in-game, cassie holds her flashlight in her left hand and not her right, so I had to completely remove & remake her hands.

I really want to try remaking these two someday, not only because I think I can make them better than I did before, but because Cassie & Roxy are probably my favorite SB characters and I still want to have cute figures of them to display on my desk lol.

Alright that’s all bye bye

[pinkeoni]

Will is Going to Die by Sacrificing Himself

...and come back to life. To me, it seems pretty obvious, but I'll explain why.

Will has been characterized as someone who puts others before himself since season one, even if it means costing him his life. The entire series starts off with Will casting fireball instead of protection during their Dungeons & Dragons game, putting his character in danger for the sake of the rest of the party.

This self-sacrificial nature is echoed in season two, but two a much more extreme end, when Will instructs everyone to close the gate to stop the Mind Flayer, despite knowing that doing so will kill him.

While we don't see this same self-sacrifice from Will in seasons three and four, we do see two related characters make their own sacrifices, possibly hinting at Will's future fate.

First we have the other character named William, Billy, sacrifice himself at the end of season three in order to stop the meat flayer.

Then in season four, we have Eddie sacrifice himself while the same song that played for Will after he came back to life in season one plays in the background— "When It's Cold I'd Like to Die" by Moby.

There are also little ways that we are told/shown of Will's selfless nature, such as giving a girl his tonka truck because she was sad, or giving Mike his painting under El's name. While this trait could be seen as admirable, I think it will ultimately be his undoing.

But why would Will need to sacrifice himself?

Well, we know that despite all of this time, Will still holds a connection to Vecna, and likely to the Mind Flayer and the Upside Down himself. Putting a stop to all of these things is going to be intrinsic to Will's arc next season.

I don't know how many people know about Noah's letterboxd, but he has been rewatching the Harry Potter movies.

Perhaps for personal enjoyment, or perhaps to study for his character?

The comparisons between Will/Vecna and Harry/Voldemort have been made before, and the Duffers are derivative of other sources if anything.

I think that this could be likened to a horcrux situation. At the end of season four, we saw Vecna be totally flambéd by the older teens, and yet, he's still kicking, and Will is the one to tell us this.

If the brain dies the body dies, but also, could the brain latch on to another body in order to keep it alive? Similar to how Harry had to die so that Voldemort could be defeated, I believe Will might have to die (at least temporarily) in order to take down Vecna/MF/UD.

We know that the show is bringing back "Should I Stay or Should I Go," which is going to prompt an important question that Will needs to find the answer to, should he stay or should he go? While this could also relate to his romantic endeavors for the season, I think that the song could be alluding to Will's choice to sacrifice himself in order to save everyone else.

What I think will probably happen is this: At some point in the season, Will is going to learn what has to happen, and he is going to go off to sacrifice himself without telling anyone so no one can stop him. (I'm guessing that Will can't just off himself, there's probably a specific way that it needs to be done).

Something I realized while making this post is that Mike is always the one who figures out what needs to be done, or brings up Will's sacrifice to others. My guess is that Mike is going to find out what Will is up to, and try to stop him. Emphasis on try, because I think this death is inevitable. However, bringing the show back full circle to season one (and because ST can never keep a main character dead), he will come back to life.