#or what it's like to hang out with them in a day to day situation

[pbaz7]

CROSSING THE LINE — PART FIVE ♡

paige x azzi

word count: 7.3k

A/N: This one lowkey took me longer than usual because I tried to make sure I represented both of their situations accurately. You'll get some resolution in this but it's definitely not going to just be rainbows and sunshine forever. Please keep up the comments and reactions!! I love reading what you guys have to say.

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The air in Aaliyah’s suite was tense, a quiet hum of anticipation hanging over the room as the team started trickling in. A few of them had already claimed spots on the couch or floor and the TV was muted, some random game playing in the background, but nobody paid it any attention.

Ice and KK walked in together, loud as always, and Caroline entered not long after, her phone still in hand, followed by Amari who looked between them all with curious eyes. 

The moment the door clicked shut behind the last person Nika didn’t waste time. She pushed herself off the counter she was leaning against and addressed everyone. 

“They slept together.”

A stunned silence followed. 

“Who?” KK broke the silence first, confused without any context. Ice who was sitting next to her just smacked her on the head as it was obvious with who was missing from the room. 

Nika, confirming anyway, just said “Paige and Azzi.” Her voice was steady, but her expression reflected how serious the situation was with the two of them not talking. “Paige told me like an hour ago.” 

A chorus of reactions broke out, some shocked and others not surprised at all.

“I knew it,” Q muttered under her breath, earning an incredulous side glance from Ice.

“So why did this cause World War Two?” KK asked, raising an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t that be good news? Thought you were supposed to be a bundle of joy after doing the do.”

A chuckle escaped Nika as she continued, “Paige said Azzi was gone when she woke up. Like, left without a word, turned her phone off. And now they haven’t really talked since and it’s messier than it needs to be honestly.”

“Wait—what?” Ice sat up straighter. “Why the hell would Azzi do that?”

“Chill out,” Caroline interjected, her tone calm but firm. “We don’t know the full story. Don’t start judging before you do.”

The room went quiet again, but Nika’s gaze zeroed in on Caroline. Something about her reaction struck a chord.

“You know something, don’t you?” Nika’s question wasn’t accusatory, but it was sharp enough to get everyone else’s attention. “If you do, you need to tell us. We can’t help them if we don’t know what’s going on.”

Caroline hesitated, her fingers tightening around her phone. She glanced around the room, her lips pressing into a thin line as she debated whether to speak.

Aubrey, sitting cross-legged on the floor near the couch, leaned forward. “Come on, Car. We need to know. We barely scraped by last game and Geno was pissed, it’s only going to get harder from here. If we don’t fix whatever is going on between them, it’s going to fuck up the season.”

Caroline let out a heavy breath, her internal conflict evident. Azzi was one of her closest friends, and she knew how private Azzi was, especially about something as personal as this. But the situation was already affecting the team on and off the court and it had been almost a month. 

“Alright,” Caroline said slowly, her voice low. “Yes, Azzi left and asked me to take her to the airport, and trust me, I told her how stupid it was after she told me what happened. But she said she needed to, and I didn’t push her because she looked like she was about to fall apart.” She paused, shifting uncomfortably as all eyes were on her. “I don’t really know what happened while she was gone, just that when I picked her up from the airport when she got back she was... excited. I mean, I hadn’t seen her like that in a while. I honestly don’t really know what happened after that, but something must’ve gone wrong because she was in my room crying the next day. She wouldn’t tell me anything though.”

The room was silent for a beat as everyone absorbed Caroline’s words. Then Ice leaned forward, her face reflecting she was piecing things together. “Wait, when Azzi got back that Monday?”

“Yeah,” Caroline nodded. “Why?”

Ice leaned forward her expressions showing she was slowly starting to piece things together. “Because I was in the suite when Azzi got back.”

All eyes turned to Ice as she continued. “Azzi came back to our suite. I was on the couch playing the game when she walked in. She seemed... kinda nervous but a little giddy. Like she wanted to go see Paige but wasn’t sure if she should. She was about to just walk in her room but I told her to knock knowing Paige was in there with some girl. I didn’t know they slept together when this happened though.”

“Azzi saw her?” Nika asked, breaking the silence.

Ice nodded grimly. “Yeah. Azzi looked like she was about to throw up. And when Azzi didn’t say anything Paige just…slammed the door in her face.”

“Okay,” Nika began cautiously, “so Azzi left after they—” she hesitated, glancing around, “—you know. And when she came back, she saw Paige with someone else in her room?”

“Paige definitely made herself freak out because Azzi left,” Aubrey chimed in, her voice picking up speed as she worked through it, “but Azzi is upset because Paige started sleeping around again?”

“That’s what it sounds like,” Caroline said slowly. “Azzi probably thought Paige didn’t care. I mean, she comes back all excited, and then... that’s what she walks into? Of course she’d feel like she was just another hookup.”

With Caroline’s words, the puzzle finally clicked into place for the team. The fragmented bits of the story now became slightly whole. 

Ice was the first to speak, her arms crossing as she leaned back on the couch. “We just need to make them talk.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Aaliyah said, her tone cautious. “They both still seem really emotional. Forcing a conversation might just make things worse.”

“They aren’t even upset anymore,” Ice shot back quickly, shaking her head. “They both just walk around the suite like sad puppies at this point. They’re miserable, and we’re all stuck watching it. They literally just need to speak to each other, and I’m sure all of this can be solved.”

Finally, Ice shrugged, leaning back against the arm of the couch. “You know what? I’ll handle it. I live with them. When they’re both back in the suite later, I’ll make sure they talk.”

“You think that’ll work?” Aubrey asked skeptically.

“It’s better than just sitting here and doing nothing,” Ice said. “I’ll lock them in the same room if I have to.”

There was a mix of amused chuckles and wary glances around the room, but no one disagreed. If anyone could nudge Paige and Azzi toward finally talking, it was their third roommate.

…

Later that day, Azzi was in her room, the faint sound of music playing softly behind the closed door as she was reading a book. Ice was laying on the couch in the common area, idly scrolling on her phone, when she heard the door to the suite open.

Paige walked in, her steps slow, her eyes still slightly puffy from the tears she’d cried earlier. She didn’t look up as she moved toward her room, clearly hoping to slip in without being addressed.

Ice sat up fast, her voice bursting with fake excitement. “P Boogers I miss you!”

Paige paused, startled, but a small fond smile tugged at her lips as she slightly rolled her eyes. She turned to Ice, trying to match her energy, though it didn’t fully reach her eyes. “Hi, Isuneh. I miss you too.”

She made to continue toward her room, but Ice wasn’t having it. “Hey, hey, come here,” Ice called out, patting the couch beside her.

Paige frowned, confused. “What? Why?”

“Just do it,” Ice insisted with a grin that didn’t leave room for argument.

Still puzzled, Paige hesitated before sighing and walking over. She plopped down onto the couch, sitting at the edge as she glanced sideways at Ice.

“Good,” Ice said, clapping her hands together before standing up. “Stay right there. I’ll be right back.”

Before Paige could question her further, Ice headed to Azzi’s door. She knocked twice, then opened it without waiting for an answer.

“Yes?” Azzi’s voice was a bit flat, but Ice ignored the tone, walking in and grabbing her by the arm.

“Come on,” Ice said, tugging her toward the door.

Azzi frowned, resisting. “What are you doing?”

“Family meeting,” Ice said, her grip firm.

“Family meeting?” Azzi repeated, confused.

“Yes, and you’re coming,” Ice replied, dragging her out of the room despite her protests.

A moment later, Ice reappeared in the common area, Azzi in tow. She plopped Azzi down on the couch right next to Paige, who looked at her wide-eyed.

“Ice what are you doing?” Paige asked, her voice uneasy as her gaze darted between Ice and Azzi.

Ice grinned, crossing her arms and standing in front of them. “You two are gonna talk.”

Both Paige and Azzi started to protest at the same time, but Ice cut them off with a sharp look. “Nope. No excuses. You’re fixing this. Right here. Right now.”

Paige sighed heavily, crossing her arms. “Ice, we’re not just going to magically fix this because you say so.”

Azzi looked equally unimpressed, her arms folding across her chest. “For once in a while I agree with her.”

Ice rolled her eyes at their ridiculousness already, planting her hands on her hips. “Y'all are so damn stubborn. I’m not asking for magic, just a conversation. You’re still capable of that right? ”

Neither of them responded, the silence thick with unease.

“Fine,” Ice pressed, her tone firm. “Don’t talk, but you’re not leaving this couch until you do.”

Paige shifted uncomfortably, glancing quickly at Azzi, who stubbornly avoided her gaze. After a long pause, Azzi finally sighed and muttered, “Fine. I’ll talk. But I can’t do this with you here, Ice.”

Ice arched a skeptical brow. “Oh, sure. Because the second I leave, you’ll both magically become chatty besties?”

Azzi glared at her. “I’m serious. I’m not doing this with an audience.”

Paige chimed in softly, her tone more sincere. “Ice, it’s okay. We’ll talk. I promise.”

Ice’s gaze darted between them, her arms still crossed. “You better. Because if I come back and one of you is sulking in your room, I’m locking you both in the pantry.”

Azzi gave her an exasperated look, but Paige offered a small, reassuring smile. “We’ll talk,” she said again.

After a long moment of hesitation, Ice finally relented. “Fine,” she said, stepping back. “But don’t make me regret trusting you two, I’ll get hell if I don’t come back with results.”

She paused before leaving, “And don’t yell at each other. You both hate it and it leads to nothing.” 

Azzi muttered under her breath, “No promises,” earning a slight scoff from Paige, who crossed her arms but said nothing. 

With that, Ice retreated to her room, closing the door behind her. 

Once Ice left the silence hung between Paige and Azzi for a while, the suite so quiet they could hear the music coming from Azzi’s room. Paige was picking at her nails absentmindedly, her gaze unfocused as she tried to keep herself from spiraling being so close to Azzi. Beside her, Azzi sat quietly, her fingers subconsciously playing with her necklace, the motion almost automatic at this point.

After what felt like an eternity, Azzi finally broke the silence, her voice soft but cutting slightly. “You don’t have to sit here and pretend you want to talk to me P. It’s fine.”

Paige immediately looked up as if she was waiting for Azzi to speak first. Confused, she says, “Huh, what are you talking about?”

Azzi sighed, clearly already frustrated. She stared at the floor, avoiding Paige’s gaze. "Nothing, Paige. Nevermind.”

But the silence didn’t last long. Azzi’s tone changed, turning a little sharper, more pointed as she finally voiced the question that had been on her mind since she came back to Storrs. "Did you even get to clean the sheets before you had somebody else in your bed?"

Paige blinked, her eyes narrowing slightly, before her initial shock turned into something else—a mix of frustration and defensiveness. She didn’t want to engage in the hurtful back-and-forth, but the words spilled out before she could stop them. “I don’t know Azzi... maybe you would know if you cared to stick around to find out.”

The room fell quiet again, the jabs leaving an uncomfortable space between them that they clearly didn’t want. Neither of them moved, neither of them said anything at first, as though they were both waiting for the other to break the silence. Finally, Azzi’s voice broke through again, softer but no less pointed.

“Did it not mean anything to you Paige?” Azzi’s words were steady, almost too steady, but there was an underlying vulnerability to them.

Paige’s chest tightened, and she leaned back on the couch, rubbing her face with her hands, trying to gather her thoughts. She wasn’t ready for this conversation—not yet, so she played the confused card. “Did what not mean anything?” Her voice was weary, a little guarded, as she avoided looking directly at Azzi.

Azzi didn’t hesitate, her tone unwavering. “You immediately started sleeping around again. It was like you finally got me to sleep with you, and then I wasn’t a second thought anymore. Just like everybody else.” 

Paige’s jaw clenched, and she looked at Azzi, disbelief flickering in her eyes. “That’s ridiculous,” she said, her voice low but firm.

The silence stretched between them again before Paige let out a long, shaky sigh. She leaned forward, folding her arms across her chest, her gaze softening as she met Azzi’s eyes. “You left me,” she said quietly. 

Her chest tightened as she continued, the pain in her voice unmistakable. "The morning after Halloween, you were gone. No note, no message, nothing. You just disappeared like what happened didn’t matter at all to you!" Her voice was a little too loud. 

Azzi flinched, her eyes flickering with frustration as she said “Paige, stop yelling. We haven’t even started yet and you’re already yelling.”

Paige paused her tears threatening to spill again. She exhaled sharply, biting her lip, before letting out a deep sigh. The volume of her voice softened, but the hurt was still evident. “Do you know what that fucking felt like, Az?” Her voice was lower now, still raw but controlled. “To physically lay out your heart to someone... to try to be completely fucking vulnerable, and then wake up to nothing? To have someone vanish and act like it was all nothing? Like I didn’t mean anything to them?” 

Azzi opened her mouth, but no words came out at first. She swallowed hard, fighting back the lump in her throat. “That’s not what happened, Paige,” she said, her voice quieter now, trying to calm the tension between them.

Paige shook her head, disbelief flashing in her eyes. “That’s exactly what happened,” she countered. “You left. No explanation. Nothing. And then you came back and acted like nothing changed. Knocking on my door with this look on your face like you didn’t even care how you made me feel while you were gone.”

Azzi’s expression twisted, her own frustration building. “No, Paige! You treated me like I was just some random UConn slut you could forget about—” Her voice was sharp, echoing in the room, until Paige gave her a look that made her pause. Azzi’s face softened, and she exhaled shakily. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, glancing away. “I didn’t mean to yell.” She looked back at Paige, her eyes dark with emotion as she continued, her voice quieter. “You just... you made me feel like I didn’t matter.”

Paige’s confusion deepened, her brow furrowing. “Azzi, what are you talking about? I basically worshiped you that night” she said, her voice softer now but still filled with hurt.

She tried to explain, her voice almost shaking with emotion. “After we... After we slept together, and things got a little unclear, you just went right back to doing the same thing you always do. You slept with any girl who came your way, and I was just left there to watch, to hear it. It felt like I was nothing to you. Like I was some one-night stand you got bored with.”

“You ignored me for days, Azzi,” Paige’s voice cracked slightly, the pain evident in each word. “What was I supposed to think? Your phone was off. You didn’t send a single message telling me where you were or what was going on. You just left me hanging, and now you’re acting like it’s all on me?” Her breath came in shallow gasps as she spoke, the frustration of everything unresolved coming to a head.

Azzi opened her mouth to respond, but Paige wasn’t done. The words were spilling out now, a flood of everything she had been holding in. “I didn’t know what to think. I couldn’t think, honestly. I woke up the next morning, and you were just gone. And for three days, you didn’t give me a single word. Not one thing to hold onto, or look forward to. What was I supposed to think?”

The words cut through the silence between them, each one a strike against the walls they’d been building around themselves. Azzi’s gaze flickered away for a moment, her chest rising and falling in slow, shaky breaths. She looked down, her voice small but steady as she spoke, barely above a whisper.

“I just needed time,” she said, her words full of vulnerability. “I needed time to think, to figure everything out. I didn’t know how to process what happened. I didn’t want to do anything rash.”

“How the hell was I supposed to guess that, Az?” Paige’s voice rose, her emotions spilling over. “You just vanished and didn’t think to tell me anything—not one hint of where your head was at. Was I supposed to just sit there waiting for you to come back with some grand explanation? How was I supposed to trust that you’d even come back with something?”

“Stop yelling,” Azzi said simply, her tone firm but not angry.

Paige sighed, running a hand through her hair as she leaned back on the couch, forcing herself to lower her voice. “I’m sorry…How was I supposed to know, Az? You left me to figure it out all on my own.”

Azzi’s eyes softened with regret as she let out a shaky breath. “I thought... I thought you’d trust me, P. I thought you’d understand that I needed space. I didn’t want to hurt you by saying the wrong thing, or worse, doing something I couldn’t take back.”

Paige’s tone softened, but the hurt was still evident in her words. “It’s hard to trust someone who walked out on you. How can I trust you when you just disappeared? You don’t do that to someone after they open up to you. You don’t vanish for days and leave them wondering if they ever meant anything to you.”

Azzi’s expression twisted, frustration mingling with sadness. “I was ready to talk when I got back home. I had it all figured out,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “But when I came back, you had some random girl in our suite, probably ready to fuck her. You didn’t even try to talk to me. So no, I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t even look at you after I saw that.”

The silence that followed was deafening, both of them sitting with the weight of the words they’d thrown at each other.

Paige finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know what else to do, Azzi. I didn’t know if you were coming back, if you even cared enough to try.”

Paige’s breath hitched as she continued, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she looked at Azzi. “I know I shouldn’t have done that, and I’m sorry,” she said, her voice cracking. “It just felt like you didn’t care and that was the only thing I could come up with.”

Azzi finally glanced at Paige, the regret and longing in her eyes almost overwhelming. She hesitated before scooting closer, slowly reaching out to take Paige’s hand in hers, their fingers lacing together. The touch was hesitant but full of unspoken meaning.

“I cared,” Azzi whispered, her voice barely audible, a rawness to it that Paige had never heard before. “I cared so much that it scared me. Scared me not knowing where you stood, not knowing if I even meant anything to you. And for everything I did... I’m so sorry. For leaving you when you needed me. For making you cry, for making those beautiful blue eyes of yours look so sad. I hate that I did that to you.”

She paused, her voice trembling slightly as the words continued to spill out. “I’m sorry for all the snide remarks, the times I pushed you away when you were reaching out, for making you feel like you didn’t matter, when you meant everything to me. I’m sorry for every moment I made you feel small, when you’re anything but that. I promise you I never wanted to hurt you, Paige. I just... I was scared. And in all my fear, I made it so you were the problem, when it was never you.”

Azzi took a deep breath before speaking again, her voice laced with regret as she finally began telling Paige what happened. “I got up before you. I was planning on getting breakfast for us because I knew you were going to have a hangover.” She paused, looking down at their interlaced fingers, before continuing. “But when I was getting the food, I ran into one of your hookups. The one we ran into that night we were going to eat and you told her I was your girlfriend. So I guess to antagonize me she said something that... that reminded me of how much you’ve slept around. It... it scared me, Paige. It made me think about what happened between us, and I didn’t know what that night meant to you, what I meant to you. I didn’t know if I was going to be just another one night stand.”

Paige tried to speak but Azzi continued, “I guess she saw my initial reaction and decided to keep going. She asked if you were still as aggressive as you used to be and started rambling about all the things you did to her. I just..I felt so inadequate, Paige. I’ve never done any of that. I didn’t even know how to respond.”

Paige froze, her stomach sinking at the words. “She did what?” she breathed, shocked.

Azzi’s voice was barely a whisper now, and she looked away. “She said it casually, as if it was no big deal. But it made me think, made me question everything. It reminded me of how much you’ve been... you know, sleeping around, and how experienced you are, and it just… kinda hit me. That I’ve never done anything like that and I’m probably a lot more inexperienced than the other girls you’ve been with.” Azzi continues kind of rambling now, “I started to wonder if it was even good for you. If I did anything wrong. You didn’t even try anything like that with me. I don’t even know if you’re into that kind of thing with me and it was just too much, so I had to take some time to think and when I came back and saw someone in the suite it just made all those feelings resurface.”

Paige’s heart clenched painfully as the weight of Azzi’s words sank in. She reached out and grabbed Azzi’s jaw gently, urging her to look at her. “Azzi, I swear to you, I never meant for you to feel like that,” she said, her voice trembling with sincerity. “I didn’t know she said that. I didn’t even know you were... Fuck I’m so so sorry Az, I didn’t ever want to make you feel that way.”

Azzi’s eyes filled with tears, but she didn’t pull away. “It hurt, Paige,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “It really hurt. And I came back I had everything ready but you were–”

Azzi stopped, biting her lip as if trying to keep herself from falling apart. Instead, she took a deep breath and stood up. “Wait here,” she said softly before disappearing into her room.

Paige blinked, confused and concerned at the abruptness, her heart racing as she sat there waiting. When Azzi returned a few moments later, she was holding a crumpled up airport paper, covered in messy scribbles and arrows. 

Azzi handed it to Paige without a word, sitting back down as Paige unfolded it, her brows furrowing as she scanned the chaotic notes. “What...is this?”

“It’s a list,” Azzi said quietly. “I made it after… you know, that night. I was trying to calm myself down and prove that it wasn’t just some hookup for you, that it meant something more.”

Paige’s eyes darted over the napkin, trying to decipher the messy scrawl. Words and phrases jumped out at her. She kissed me, with an arrow towards for the second time in the corner of the napkin. Jealous at Ted’s but that one had a lot of question marks followed by she would’ve just told me which was crossed out with the words no she wouldn’t next to it. Other words Paige could clearly make out Teammates…felt too inanimate…the way she looked at me, which was underlined a few multiple times with the words think i’m delusional next to it. 

As Paige continues trying to decipher the napkin, realization dawns on her face. Her fingers slightly tighten around the paper as her chest tightens with emotion. The arrows connecting some points and scribbled-out words showed how much thought Azzi had put into it, even in her uncertainty.

“I had everything figured out,” Azzi said, her voice trembling. “I was ready to show you, to make you understand even if you weren’t ready, that it couldn’t have been just casual for you. It had to be something deeper. But then I saw her in your bed, and it all fell apart. God, Paige, I felt so stupid. Like I’d made everything up in my head.”

Paige stared at the napkin, guilt and heartbreak washing over her in waves. “Azzi…”

Azzi shook her head, looking away. “I cared so much about sleeping with you it scared me, Paige. And when I saw her, I just… I couldn’t do it anymore.”

Paige’s eyes filled with tears as she placed the napkin on the table and cupped Azzi’s face gently, urging her to look at her. “Azzi, I swear to you, I never meant for you to feel like that,” she said her, her voice quiet but steady. “I didn’t even know she said that. I didn’t even know you were…I wasn’t that way with you because you’re so much more than that to me Az. I never wanted you to feel like you were just another hookup. I knew it was your first time with a girl, and I just wanted to take everything slow. I wanted you to feel safe, to feel like it was okay to just feel everything and just…just be. I was trying to show you how much I cared that night, and I thought maybe... maybe that was the way to make you understand. But it wasn’t. I see that now.”

Azzi’s face softened as she absorbed Paige’s words. The tension between them seemed to ease just a little, but there was still a quiet sorrow in her eyes. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a breath before speaking. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I never meant to make you feel alone, I know how hard that is for you. I was just so caught up in my own feelings, my own fear. I was so afraid of getting hurt that I couldn’t care about how anyone else felt.”

Paige reached out, cupping Azzi’s face gently in her hands again. She felt the weight of Azzi’s pain, the vulnerability in her touch, and it broke something inside her. “I understand,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I get it. I do. But you mean the world to me, Azzi. I never wanted to make you feel less than. I just wanted you to know how much I care, how much I need you.”

Azzi’s eyes fluttered open, locking with Paige’s, and she leaned into the touch, a tear slipping down her cheek. She didn’t say anything right away, just let the silence hang between them, the weight of everything they had just shared in the air. At that moment, words didn’t seem to matter as much as the quiet connection between them.

Paige pulled Azzi into a tight, much-needed hug. She buried her face in Azzi’s hair and whispered, “I’m so sorry Azzi.” Azzi squeezed her back, the tension in her body easing with every second. “I’m sorry too,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. The two of them sat in their embrace for a while, both of them making up for what they felt like was lost time. 

Ice’s door creaked open hesitantly. She hadn’t heard voices for some time, so she peeked out to check on the situation. Her eyes landed on Paige and Azzi wrapped in each other’s arms, their tears visible even from where she stood. A grin tugged at her lips as she then leaned against the wall.

“Okay thank god you figured it out,” Ice teased, crossing her arms. “I was starting to think I’d have to find a lock for the pantry. It was hard being a child of a divorced home.”

Azzi laughed through her tears, her face still pressed to Paige’s shoulder. “Shut up, Ice,” she said, her voice thick but light with humor.

Paige chuckled softly, finally pulling back just enough to wipe at Azzi’s damp cheeks. The warmth in her gaze made Azzi’s heartache in the best way.

Ice smirked, watching them for a moment longer before retreating back into her room, muttering something about how they better keep it down if there’s any more funny business around this house. Paige and Azzi exchanged a watery laugh, the tension between them finally broken.

…

Later that night, after showering and getting into her pajamas, Paige sat on her bed, the controller in her hands as she settled into her game for the first time in a while. She hadn’t felt in the mood to play in weeks, but tonight was obviously different.

Azzi walked into the room quietly, dressed in her pajamas and a bonnet. She stood by the door for a moment, hesitant, taking in the space that felt unfamiliar in this new version of them, something a little more than a friendship but not a relationship. She hadn’t been in Paige’s room like this—so casually, so unburdened—since October…since they slept together. It felt like the distance between them had changed everything, and for a second, she wasn’t sure how to exist in here.

But then she heard Paige mutter something incoherent at the game, followed by an exaggerated shout of frustration when she was killed. Azzi’s lips curled into a smile at the familiar sound. That was more like the Paige she knew. It made Azzi relax a little.

Azzi made her way over to the bed and sat down on the edge next to Paige, her body a little stiff at first. She wasn’t sure what to do with herself, what was ok to do and what wasn’t. But then, as she watched Paige continue to play, she cracked a joke, letting it slip out without thinking.

“Have you always been this bad, or is tonight just special?” Azzi teased, her voice light with amusement.

Paige paused the game immediately, her brow furrowing as she turned to face Azzi, an exaggerated look of disbelief on her face. “Excuse me? What did you just say?”

Azzi shrugged nonchalantly, her eyes still on her phone, scrolling absentmindedly. “Eh, just stating the obvious.”

Paige crossed her arms, trying to hold back a grin. “I’m being disrespected in my own room, this is crazy.” She said, her voice a little dramatic, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her.

Azzi chuckled, and for a moment, the tension from the past few weeks seemed to slip away. The easy banter between them returned, small but meaningful, like they hadn’t spent any time apart. Paige rolled her eyes, but there was a warmth in her chest, the kind that came with knowing things were moving in the right direction.

Paige tilted her head, looking at Azzi. “You wanna play?”

Azzi looked up from her phone, her brow raising as if Paige had just asked her to solve all the world’s problems. “Me? Play? Are you crazy?” She shook her head. “I’ve never played before. And I’ve heard you, KK, and Ice yelling a little too much to know better.”

Paige shrugged, unfazed. “No big deal. You’ll like it.” She said as she tried to hand Azzi the controller.

Azzi hesitated, giving the controller a wary glance before reluctantly taking it. The second she started playing, Paige immediately realized how bad things were going to be. Within seconds, Azzi’s character on the screen was walking off of the building Paige had built, spinning in circles, and doing everything but what she was supposed to be doing.

“Azzi what the hell!” Paige burst out laughing as she watched the chaos unfold. “What are you even doing?!”

“I don’t know!” Azzi cried out, frantically mashing random buttons as her character continued to flail in every direction, shooting randomly here and there. She pushed Paige’s shoulder with a playful shove. “Shut up and help me!”

Paige tried to compose herself, still grinning as she pointed at the screen. “Okay, okay, see this button? That’s to move. And that one? That’s to aim. You’re just—” She dissolved into laughter again as Azzi’s character jumped straight towards someone shooting at her and immediately died.

Azzi groaned, pouting as she turned to Paige with a frown. “This isn’t funny! You’re supposed to be helping, not laughing at me.”

“I am helping!” Paige insisted through her giggles, her cheeks aching from how hard she was laughing. She reached over, guiding Azzi’s hands on the controller. “Look, just press this one and— no not that one!”

Azzi let out an exaggerated huff, dropping the controller onto her lap. “This is impossible. You’re a terrible teacher.”

“You’re just a terrible student,” Paige shot back, her grin widening.

At this, Azzi pouted harder, her lips pushing out in exaggerated frustration. Paige couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head. “Alright, alright, come here,” she said, scooting back on the bed to make room.

Azzi gave her a skeptical look but didn’t argue, sliding into the spot Paige had just been sitting in, directly in front of the TV. Paige scooted up behind her, settling comfortably as she wrapped her arms around Azzi to guide her hands on the controller.

Azzi stiffened at first, her body going rigid against Paige’s. Paige noticed immediately, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “Relax, Az,” she said, her voice gentle, her breath warm against Azzi’s ear. “I’m not gonna bite, Just teaching you how to play the game I swear.”

Azzi huffed a small laugh, the tension easing out of her shoulders as she leaned back into Paige. “You better not,” she murmured, her tone lighter.

As Azzi settled into Paige’s hold, she tilted her head slightly, her gaze lingering on Paige’s face, which was now resting on her shoulder. Paige smirked, not even looking away from the TV. “Stop staring and focus on the game, Azzi.”

“I’m not staring,” Azzi muttered, rolling her eyes, though her cheeks warmed slightly.

“Sure you’re not,” Paige teased, her tone dripping with amusement. “This is why you’re so bad at the game—you’re too distracted by me so you aren’t listening to instructions”

Azzi scoffed. “Please, I’d be amazing if you weren’t breathing down my neck every two seconds.”

Paige chuckled, her voice low and playful. “You like it, don’t lie.”

Azzi tried to keep a straight face, but the corners of her lips twitched as she turned her attention back to the screen. “Whatever. Just show me which button I’m supposed to press.”

“Alright, I got this,” Paige said, her fingers wrapping around Azzi’s to guide her movements. As they moved, Paige’s fingers brushed over Azzi’s, each shift in position almost feeling intentional, like she was trying to distract her more than help with the game. “See? You press this one to jump. No, not that one—this one,” Paige corrected, her hand pressing lightly on Azzi’s, guiding her thumb to the correct button.

Azzi shot Paige a playful glare, her lips curling into a smile despite herself. “Are you just playing for me now?”

Paige didn’t even try to hide her grin. “You’re a terrible student, Azzi. What do you expect?” Her voice was teasing, but there was a warmth beneath it, the closeness between them now undeniable. She adjusted her grip on Azzi’s hands, their fingers interlacing as she continued to control the game for both of them.

Azzi couldn’t help but laugh at how effortlessly Paige took over. “You’re not even letting me play at this point. What’s the point of me being here?”

Paige’s fingers tightened around Azzi’s making sure she didn’t go anywhere, guiding them both. “You’re here to keep me entertained,” she teased. 

Azzi rolled her eyes, trying to focus on the screen, but her attention kept drifting to the feel of Paige’s hand in hers, the pressure of her touch. “I think you just like controlling things,” Azzi said, her voice softer now, with a hint of something more teasing underneath.

Paige smirked, her grip remaining firm as she helped Azzi push through the game. “You know I love being in control.” 

Azzi shifted, feeling the warmth of Paige’s chest against her back as she continued to play. “You’re really trying to get me flustered, huh?” Azzi teased, though the playful tone didn’t quite match the fluttering feeling in her stomach.

Paige’s chuckle was low and soft, her lips brushing against the side of Azzi’s neck as she continued guiding her hands. “If you’re flustered, then I’m doing something right.” She let out a light laugh when Azzi flinched slightly at the touch. “But you need to focus, Az. We’re trying to win here.”

Azzi, still caught in the tangle of their touch and the warmth of Paige’s breath, let out a small, involuntary laugh. “I’m trying, but it’s hard when you’re distracting me like this.”

Paige leaned in, her lips grazing Azzi’s ear as she whispered, “Then I guess you’ll just have to try harder, huh?”

As Azzi’s thumb pressed the button under Paige’s guidance, she couldn’t ignore the way her pulse quickened under Paige’s touch. “You’re insane,” Azzi muttered, but she didn’t pull away.

Paige’s smile deepened, the playful glint in her eyes never fading as she held Azzi’s hands in hers. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Azzi smirked, her voice light and teasing as she turned her head just enough for their faces to be dangerously close. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” she replied, her tone playful but with a hint of challenge. Her eyes locked with Paige’s, a subtle heat building between them. “But you’re starting a game that I was always better than you at,” she added, her words dripping with teasing confidence as she leaned just a little closer, her breath brushing against Paige’s skin.

Azzi’s smirk only deepened as she leaned back slightly, tilting her head just enough to make their lips almost touch. The tension in the air shifted, both of them clearly forgetting the game in favor of something else. Her voice dropped to a near whisper, sending a shiver down Paige’s spine. “I miss you, P. I’ve been replaying it in my head for weeks,” Azzi murmured, her fingers gently tracing over Paige’s fingers, the motion intentional and carrying an unmistakable double meaning.

Paige swallowed hard, her breath catching as Azzi’s words lingered in the space between them. Her heart raced, but she quickly detached herself from Azzi, leaning back and breaking the moment with a forced, lighthearted laugh. “Alright, I need to get away from Casanova here before I forget how to function,” Paige joked, trying to ease the tension as she put some space between them, though her smile betrayed her, a mix of amusement and something deeper still lingering in her eyes.

Azzi let out a soft sigh and rolled her eyes, clearly amused by Paige’s attempt to lighten the mood. Without saying another word, she grabbed her book from the bedside table and settled comfortably into Paige’s bed, leaning back against the pillows as she opened it to the page she had left off on.

Paige glanced over at her, a smile tugging at her lips as she started the game again, the sound of the controller clicking in the quiet room. Every now and then, she’d catch a glimpse of Azzi’s relaxed posture, her head slightly tilted down as she read, and the small sense of comfort that filled the space between them was nice to have again. 

After a while, because Paige really was rusty, she finally won a round of Fortnite, she threw the controller onto the bed with a triumphant “Victory!” She turned around, expecting to see Azzi’s usual playful smirk, but instead, Azzi was fast asleep, her body sprawled across the bed. The sight of her like this—calm, peaceful, unguarded—struck something in Paige. She hadn’t seen Azzi like this in a while, and it warmed her more than she expected.

Paige smiled softly to herself, a little bittersweet. After turning everything off she carefully climbed into bed, trying not to wake Azzi, but the moment she settled in, Azzi instinctively shifted closer, snuggling into her side like it was the most natural thing in the world. Paige smiled again, a real, gentle smile, her heart fluttering at the simple act of them being close again.

The room was quiet for a while, save for the soft, rhythmic sound of Azzi’s breathing. Paige felt herself drifting to sleep for the first time in a while, feeling the weight of everything they’d been through slowly melting away, replaced by the comfortable warmth of having Azzi beside her again. Just as she was about to fall asleep, Azzi’s soft voice broke the silence.

“Thank you for the necklace,” Azzi whispered, her voice barely audible. Paige’s chest tightened at the sincerity behind the words.

Paige smiled, her eyes still closed, and whispered back, her voice soft with affection. “You’re welcome.”

A small moment of silence passed between them as they both settled into the shared space of the bed. They weren’t together—not yet—but there was a quiet understanding between them. They weren’t rushing anything. They would work on it slowly but surely until they were ready. It felt like progress, even without words.

Just as they settled into a peaceful sleep, the sound of footsteps echoed in the hall. Ice, who had been passing by, peeked in and caught a glimpse of the two of them. She paused for a moment, watching as Paige and Azzi snuggled so naturally together. She smiled to herself, happy for them, before snapping a quick picture, closing the door and walking down the hallway to send the picture in the groupchat.

[sturnlsstuff]

FAMILIAR STRANGER | chapter six

what's gonna happen when you find out about your enemy's biggest secret?

ghostface!chris x enemy!reader

chapter five

— warnings; smut with plot, dom!chris, sub!reader, fingering, unprotected p in v, rough, creampie, dirty talk, pet names, bratty reader, cursing, - english isn't my first language.

~~~

you have gone through many stressful situations in your life. most of the time you didn't care about anything, always chilling and thinking logically, not emotionally. however, there were moments when even you started losing your shit and they were always more intense than they should have been. one of them, for example, was taking your driving test, which kept you up at night. or your 18th birthday that stressed you out so much that you had to drink a bottle of wine alone before the party to get rid of the anxiety. or choosing what college you wanna go to, and whether you'll even get there or not. lots of stressful days in your life, lots of situations.

but your heart had never beat as fast as it did in this moment.

your thumb hovering over the 'send' button while you consider all the pros and cons of what you're doing. biting your lower lip nervously, feeling the taste of blood in your mouth, but even this doesn't stop you. you had to make a decision whether to text chris or not, and that wasn't supposed to be so stressful, but it was.

after he left you alone in his room at the party, you didn't see him at all. after fixing your makeup, you went back downstairs and found emma, telling her you were going home, needing to process whatever happened in chris's room and how it made you feel. she knew you were with someone, anyone would notice by the state you were in, even if you tried to make yourself look presentable for twenty minutes in front of the mirror in chris's room. somehow you managed to get rid of emma and her questions for now, ignoring her for two days. in fact ignoring everyone, needing some time alone, but it didn't feel like you were by yourself at all, with the way chris was in your mind every second of the day.

finally, before you could change your mind, you sent the message and threw your phone to the other end of the couch, hugging your legs to your chest and clutching your heated cheeks as if that would somehow help you. tense silence remains in the living room for the next two minutes, as you start to regret texting him.

another five minutes and you finally reach for your phone, ready to delete the message when you see three dots showing that he is replying. with w muffled scream, your phone flies across the room as you throw it again, a notification indicating a new message heard. for a second you just sit still, wheels turning in your head, but then you almost jump from your place, your legs on the couch, the rest of your body hanging off it as you steady yourself with one hand on the floor, the other picking up your phone and reading the message. you could feel the blood rushing to your head.

"bitch," you mutter to yourself, looking at the screen in pure disbelief. there's no way you were stressing for the past hour to send that fucking simple message, overthinking all night if you should even text him and how to do it to not sound too desperate, even wondering if three question marks is too much and maybe you should put one, and he just said he's busy.

unfortunately for him, you weren't a person who gave up easily, and if you finally decided to talk to him, you will do everything to make it happen. so you reply back, not having to wait for his response too long.

you roll your eyes, upset that you even tried to start any conversation with him, that you wasted the entire day yesterday and today thinking about him when he was clearly busy and definitely not overthinking anything like you did. you're not only mad at him, but also at yourself for being so stupid. after all it was chris, there's nothing to talk about here. he had his way with you and that's it, nothing changes.

not that you wanted it to change anyway.

leaving him on seen, you decide to take care of yourself a little bit, to relaxe since this stress made you feel and look terrible, bags under your eyes after two sleepless nights. so the next hour you spend in your bathtub, cool music filling your ears as you read a book, careful not to make it wet.

then you hear a noise coming from your room, at first thinking it's some hallucination from the lack of sleep, so you stop the music and listen, immediately hearing another muffled bang that makes you jump out of the tub, almost soaking your book. cursing under your breath, you wrap a towel around your waist, looking around to find anything which could be useful in defense. all you find is a glass flowerpot, so you take it, poking your head out from behind the bathroom door.

silence.

you carefully step out of the bathroom, water dripping onto the floor from your body as you walk slowly barefoot towards your room where the door was slightly open. it seemed stupid to go there, but you were acting out of adrenaline.

you heard another curse and the sound of the window closing, a frown appearing between your eyebrows as you gently opened the door, ready to attack whoever the fuck was in your room, clutching the flowerpot in one hand and holding the towel that was sliding off your body with the other.

"chris, what the fuck?!" your eyes wide as he turns around to look at you, dressed as a ghostface.

"i got fuckin' stuck," he removes his mask, running his hand through his hair, eyes immediately traveling up and down your wet body, covered by nothing but some thin towel.

immediately pressing the material against your body, now feeling strangely naked, your expression questioning him before your mouth could. he rolls his eyes, "told ya to remember 'bout closin' this fuckass window, didn't i?" he takes off his robe, leaving him in black pants and a t-shirt, his gaze had not left your figure, a strange shiver pass through him, which he only felt around you. "i knocked on the door, but you didn't answer again."

"couldn't you call me?"

he blinks stupidly, his eyes moving back up, "right." then he notices the flower pot in your hand, a low mocking laugh leaving his lips, "wanted to kill me with this?"

you glance at the flower pot, rolling your eyes and walking into the room to put it on the desk, feeling his eyes on you. "i was taking a bath, you idiot—" turning around, you almost jump when he's suddenly in front of you.

"i noticed," he smirks, tilting his head to the side. you try to ignore his intense gaze, "what do you want anyway?"

"you wanted to talk."

"weren't you busy?"

"took care of that," he retors. your eyebrow arches up as you peak out behind him at the mask and knife placed on the bed. "yes," he simply says, noticing your expression. you didn't need to know anything else.

"well, okay," clearing your throat, you grab some clean clothes from the dryer. "let me get dressed first."

"no need to rush," at the stare you give him, chris lifts his hands up in surrender and flops on your bed just as you leave the room.

you put on some shorts and a two size too big shirt, quickly cleaning up the bathroom as well. honestly, you were playing on time. you didn't expect him to come after he definitely said no in the text, and now you had no idea what to tell him, and the stress you were feeling earlier came back stronger than before.

finally finding the courage you leave the bathroom, finding chris in the living room looking at the photos you had on the wall. stopping in the doorway, you quickly tie your hair into a ponytail.

"i remember that," he points at one picture with you, him, his brothers and nate on it after one of your old friend's birthday party. you liked this one a lot.

"crazy night—"

"we danced together," he says casually though his voice a little weaker as if the memory of it was doing something to him. you're taken back that he even remembers since he was awfully high that night.

"yeah..." your voice unsure since neither of you ever mentioned it before. "-- yeah, we did."

the corner of his mouth twitches into a smile but he quickly hides it, licking his lips and settling on the couch. you take the seat next to him, keeping your distance.

after a short silence, he speaks up, "it was fun. that party." you agree with a nod of your head. that night you two were pretty chill, he was high, you were drunk and both of you just had fun, for a few hours not remembering that you disliked each other. sometimes you thought of it and wondered why couldn't it be like this all the time.

"so," he clears his throat, getting more comfortable on the couch, arm resting on the back of the sofa as he looks at you. "what's this super important conversation you've wanted to have with me?" his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"uh, right... about that—" you think about how to put it into words, heart pounding in your chest while your brain working at full speed. finally you just blurt out mindlessly, "we fucked."

chris raises an eyebrow, his expression unreadable, "really? didn't notice."

you open your mouth and then close it again, trying to ignore his comment. taking a deep breath, you continue, "i mean... well, i was kind of drunk, let's be honest. so i didn't think—"

"c'mon, kid, we both know you'd fuck me even sober," he rolls his eyes, slight annoyance in his tone at the clear delusion coming from you.

"that's literally not even close to what i'm talking about..." a wave of heat washes over you from embarrassment of being called out like that. you had to find some excuse, because to be honest, you didn't know how you ended up in chris's bed. well, you knew how, but you needed some explanation for yourself. though, what you're for sure aware of, is that the desire and arousal you felt was real. "it was, like, another moment of weakness."

"you got a lot of 'em with me recently," he teases, scanning your face as if looking for something. for a moment you were speechless from the intensity of his blue eyes. and chris noticed it. of course he did. "it was good though..." he adds, his voice lower now.

you try hard not to look too nervous while agreeing, "yeah... it was." his lips curve into that smirk you knew so well while he shamelessly checked you out again, his eyes lingering on your exposed thighs for too long. noticing that, you quickly add, "it shouldn't have happened and we won't do it again."

"yeahhhh," his tongue clicks against his teeth. chris makes eye contact with you again and that's when you know you're screwed. "we won't."

with these words you look at each other too long and too intensely, almost as if communicating between the words. and you didn't even know when or how you ended up straddling his lap, gripping his shoulders desperately trying to steady yourself while he pumps his fingers rapidly into your cunt, curling them up to hit that sweet spot inside you. his thumb rubs circles around your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure. the ghostface mask is back on his face, making you clench around his fingers. it all happened in less than ten minutes, that's how weak you were for chris and how addicted to you he's become.

"mhmmm, look at you... so fuckin' pretty, drippin' all over my hand..." he says, his voice hoarse with arousal. his cock was rock hard already, uncomfortably straining against his pants. "your body doesn't lie, even if your mouth does," chris watches you closely, taking note of the way your chest heaves, lips parted with little whimpers escaping them.

"chris— mmmh, f-fuck.... so... so g-good— oh!" your walls tighten around his fingers, hips slightly grinding against his hand. he flexes his fingers inside you, stretching you, his thumb on your clit picking up speed.

he smirks to himself at how responsive you are to him, "you jus' fuckin' love when i manhandle you, huh?" he adds a third finger, scissoring them, his other hand tugging on your hair, forcing you to keep your eyes on his mask. chris was now aware of the effect it had on you and it was making him so turned on. "constantly tryin' to make me mad, messin' with my fuckin' head, kid... not really nice of you."

you let out a loud pornographic moan when his fingers once again curl inside you, hitting your g-spot perfectly, his thumb pressing more against your bud. at the feeling of you tightening around him, a low groan escapes his lips. "thaaaat's it— yes, c'mon, give it to me... show me how bad you fuckin' hate me..."

"chris!" your eyes roll back as euphoria consumes you, head dropping forward onto his shoulder. "my... god...f-fuck you—"

he pumps his fingers languidly to ride out your orgasm, drawing out your pleasure for as long as he can. "mhm, i will," he smirks, slowing down his movements. "no need to rush, princess." he finally pulls his fingers out of you, lifting up your head, "open up."

as you obey, he brings his fingers into your mouth, your tongue immediately cleaning them up, tasting your own release on your tongue. "fuckkk—" he bucks his hips up, his clothed hardness pressing against your swollen bud, stealing another whimper from you.

you were sure you had lost your mind. you really wanted to make it clear today, that what happened at friday couldn't happen again, but it was so hard when he was... him.

"chris, we need to stop," you say as soon as he removes his fingers out of your mouth, immediately placing them back between your legs, gently caressing your swollen folds and spreading your wetness around, which makes you flinch from the over sensation.

"stop sayin' that when you react so strongly to me," his other hand moving to unzip his pants and pull them down his hips, freeing his leaking with precum dick. you look at him, the ghostface mask sending shivers straight into your core and you already know there's no coming back. "so?" he asks, gripping your hips, "still wanna stop?"

"no," you mutter annoyed at the way he was making you feel. chris bites his bottom lip with a grin, his body begging for any kind of release. he's never wanted anyone so badly. he lifts you up a little, then impaling you on his length in one swift, deep motion. both of you moan, his head throwing back at the feeling of your tight walls sucking him in. he missed this.

"fuckkk, you jus' feel so good..." he praises, holding you still for a moment to savor the feeling of being burned inside you. then he starts pounding into you, his grip on your hips painful as he doesn't let you move at all, wanting to have the control over everything.

"...what a fuckin' slut you are f'me— jesus..." he looks down, watching as he slams deep into your heat, not caring about the noises or the mess. he's too far gone to worry about anything expect the feeling of your tight pussy wrapped around his dick. "sooo perfect, fuck— and what'd you say, huh?" he pants, looking up at your full of pleasure expression. "not happening again? fuckin' watch."

you're practically bouncing on him from the strength with which chris fucks you from below, your walls immediately clenching around him, the overstimulation from your previous orgasm makes your head spin.

"chris, s-so-- deep..." you whine, gasping for air as he changes the position to get a better angle. he flips you onto your back on the sofa, pressing your knees against your stomach which caused him to go even deeper.

"yeah? you like to feel my fuckin' cock? look..." his fingers wraps around your wrist and he moves your hand to the noticeable bulge in your gut as he slides in and out of your wet pussy. the feeling of him like that, makes your toes curl as you quickly feel your second release approaching.

"gonna... c-cum! oh—" your whines and moans now filling the room with chris's eventual groans when he feels you constantly clenching around his dick.

"come all over me, c'mon... and m'gonna fill you up, yeah? gonna do it so fuckin' deep, you'll be leakin' my shit for days..." he snarls, his thrusts becoming harder as another orgasm washes over you, your eyes locked on his ghostface mask, even if you could barely keep them open. he doesn't even slow down while you tremble from the intensity of your release, moans leaving your lips and back arching up. "squeezin' me so tight, shiiittt— you were made f'me...."

with a feral groan, he buries himself as deep as he can, his dick pulsing as he explodes inside you, his hot seed filling your cunt to the brim. both of you panting, chris props himself on his hands of each side of your body so as not to crash you with his weight. both of you panting heavy, your eyes now closed while you try to come back on earth.

once the last waves of his climax subside, he pulls out with a wet squelch, his cum dripping out of your hole. a smirk appears on his lips at your disheveled form as he takes the mask off, pulling back to have a better look on your swollen, glistening cunt. just as your legs weakly were about to drop onto the couch, he grips your thighs, keeping you spread open for him. "that's a sight..." he runs a finger through the mess he'd made, making you whimper. "sensitive much?" his tone mocking. his fingers slipping between your folds, gathering as much as he could of his and yours release and pushing it back inside, a muffled scream escaping you.

"chris!" you smack his hand away, your legs automatically try to close. he tsks, his face full of mock innocence, "what? just cleanin' you up." his eyes glistening when he makes eye contact with you and he adds, "unless you wan' me to lick it off instead?"

"no, thanks," you mutter fully aware he'd love to overstimulate you.

"a'ight, drama queen," he rolls his eyes, grabbing the tissues from the coffee table, cleaning his own mess before passing them to you. he sits up, pulling his pants up while you proper yourself on your elbows, starting to clean up.

a silence remains in the living room, he takes a rolled joint from his pocket, placing it between his lips, and looks towards you noticing how your hands and legs are shaking a little. you weren't able to clean yourself thoroughly, the mix of your and his cum running down your inner thighs.

"kid," he lights up the joint, taking a long drag. "the fuck you doin'?"

you give him a death stare, "it's quite clear to see."

he exhales, smoke billowing out as he speaks, "but, like... you don't— just..." he groans, putting the joint back between his lips, his voice muffled, "--fuckin' gimme it... can't even clean y'self up, jesus... so annoying..."

chris practically snatches the tissues from your hands as he spreads your legs, ignoring your confused and surprised expression. he simply starts wiping the mess between your legs, his touch strangely tender, "can't do shit with that shaky ass hands..." he keeps commenting under his nose more to himself than to you, the smoke from his joint filling the room.

you watch mesmerized, as he grabs the joint between the fingers of one hand, the other still focused on the task, his tongue poking out at the corner of his mouth in concentration. he was gentle, or at least chris tried to be when he saw how red and puffy your pussy looked. it was such a simple action but it made your heart do a backflip. and not only you felt this way, chris himself was somehow, almost nervous.

he finally catches up on your stare, a frown appearing between his eyebrows, "the fuck you lookin' at..." his eyes traveling to the marks he left on your hips, some of the bruises older from friday, others fresh and reddish. this sight fills him with a sense of pride. he finally leans back on the couch, throwing the used tissues aside, glancing back at you. "stop starin', kid."

your face all flushed as you finally tear your eyes away from his and manage to sit up, adjusting your shirt and looking around for your sweatpants.

"here," he hands them to you, taking another drag on his joint. you put your clothes back on, wondering what the hell was going on.

you sit next to him still slightly breathless, after a moment he passes you the joint, neither of you looking at each other as you take it.

"y'know..." chris finally speaks up, "for someone who claims to hate me so much, you sure do let me do all sorts of nasty things to ya."

that's what causes you to finally make eye contact with chris, annoyance flickering through your face at the sudden call out. "for someone who claims to hate me so much, you sure want to do a lot of nasty things to me."

he smirks amused at your response, looking like you exhale the smoke. "well, yeah, hating you and being insanely attracted t'you aren't mutually exclusive, y'know..." you raise your eyebrows as he continues, "besides i never said i hated you, i jus' said i hated you."

the clear confusion and how your cheeks were burning after his words, makes chris's grin widen. "what the fuck is the difference?"

"don' worry 'bout it," he retors, grabbing the joint from between your fingers to finish it.

"insanely attracted to me, huh?" you process his words. chris rolls his eyes, "insanely is a strong word actually, what i meant is—"

"nuh, uh," you interrupted him with a grin on your face, pointing your finger at him. "you said what you wanted to say."

"no, i—

"lalala, i can't hear youuuu," you cover your ears like a kid, the mix of annoyance and amusement building up within him. "you're a child," he puts out the butt of the joint in some empty can on the coffee table, and takes your hands away from your ears. "child."

you just smile, feeling unfamiliar warm spreading across your chest. it was strange, chris usually saw you smiling but at other people, not at him. it made him want to... kiss you? hold you?

"weirdo," he mutters, leaning back, but there's no usual bite in his tone. his arm rests on the back of the sofa behind you, his wheels turning around in his head. he glances at your side profile, his tongue clicking against his teeth, "i always wondered why you were with this idiot jake." you're taken back, glancing at him with a frown, but it doesn't discourage him from continuing. chris felt like he has to. "you were always annoying, but i thought you're better than that. he had no idea how to treat you right and you kept comin' back to him, what was insane to me. he was just a dick—"

"you wouldn't understand..."

"no, i definitely fuckin' wouldn't," he retors annoyed. "so m'not even gonna try, but he was pissin' me the fuck off. i was waitin' for the day you finally leave him for good."

"it wasn't that simple," you try to explain, but chris wasn't having any of that. "kid, don' bullshit me. you even try to defend him now when he's gone? don't tell me you..."

"no, i try to defend myself, 'cause you don't get it," you interrupt, not wanting to hear whatever he was going to say. "he was awful, but at that time i kinda just... craved affection, i guess," your cheeks heat with embarrassment. "and sometimes he was giving me that."

"what affection he could give ya? bet, he fuckin' sucked. and you deserve to get affection and all this other shit all the time, not just sometimes. that's fucked up."

"and what do you know about all of that?" you question him, which annoys the hell out of chris. "every week you have a new girl to fuck, then moving on to the next one."

he knows you're right, chris had no clue how to show affection either, he never was good at this because he simply never let himself attach to anyone. but he knew, if he had you, he would never be like your ex. chris would try his best to make sure you know you're loved.

"there's nothing wrong with that, they all know m'not lookin' for a relationship. i always tell 'em at the beginnin' that it's only a hook up. i don' play anyone..."

"always?" when chris nods, you add, "i didn't hear you saying that to me."

now he's surprised, quickly hiding it, but the way his eyes scanned your face was telling you everything you needed to know.

"well..." he slowly licks his lips, carefully thinking of his next words. "i never... i mean, i knew we'd do it again at some point... but i just— fuck, i don' know..."

your voice is dripping with sarcasm when you say the next sentence, but there was genuine curiosity behind it, "maybe deep down you expected something?"

his expression is unreadable, but chris's heart was beating so hard, he was afraid you'd hear. the question you asked stirred weird feelings inside him and he had to get out of this situation fast. you knew one of his deepest secrets already, there was no way he'd let you know his other ones.

"be serious, kid," his smirk doesn't reach his eyes. "enough with that talk. i gotta go..."

his reaction saying more than he would ever say. you watch as he stands up, "i am serious and you're running away right now—"

"shut your goddamn mouth for once, holy fuck," he snaps at you, gripping the bridge of his nose. "i have shit to do so i'm leavin', simple as that. not that is any of your business anyway."

your blood boil at his words but you don't say anything else. you were afraid your voice would betray you, so watching him gathering his stuff from your room and then hearing the front door shutting, was all you did.

taglist: @certifiedstarrr @chrislovespepsi @le4hsblog @sturnsxbitvh @sweetlikesug4rvenom @xaristhings @mattsfavbitchhh @lvrsturniolo @r0s3luvr @slut4brunettes @madisonsturnioloss @chrispillowprincess @sturnioloslutttt4 @ashlishes @mattsbitchh @hi-people-who-are-alive @stellward123 @inssanely @matts-girlfriend @imnotalive420 @emely9274 @shadowthesim @yunkilm @sophiaxsblog @namelesssav @demyackerman @fratbrochrisgf @lvrsturniolo @chrisweetheart @chrisfavoritewhore @sturnslutz @ncm9696 @certified-sturniolo @mattsobvimyfav @swagalicious260 @giannalovessturniolo @sophand4n4 @brazyturtleneck

[wirewitchviolet]

So I was already sitting down to ramble about something, and turns out this post and this big reply under it tie in pretty well, so, here we go.

There are enough bespoke issues trans people justifiably feel very passionate about, and enough different experiences different trans people have that it is damn easy to end up in a huge fight because one person tried to make a nice simple statement for a clueless cis audience, but viewed through another person's lens it reads like some kind of attack. And it certainly never helps that bigots are actively out there constantly trying to co-op messages and sew infighting that any statement no matter how clear and good WILL get weaponized.

Before I get into the above, the go-to example I was planning to use was "you don't have to transition to be trans." There's a ton of ways you can read that which are great and worth echoing. For instance, "hey, if you've worked out that people got your gender wrong, you are trans and can come hang out in the trans clubhouse and ask for advice and all that without proving it through medical intervention."

Or, "hey don't be a weird gatekeeping creep who only recognizes people's gender if they don't jump through a particular medical hoop like taking a particular medication or get a particular surgery, which might not be something they even want due to risks, side effects, or not seeing it as a problem to begin with, and/or might not be something they CAN do anything about, because the typical medical treatment would not work on them for any number of reasons/is prohibitively expensive/too socially dangerous to go forward with in their current situation/is only even done by like a couple dozen specialists in the world who are booked out years in advance and many of whom actively discriminate against all sorts of potential patients."

You can see how it's nice to have a short catchy phrase. BUT it's absolutely a reality that awful bigots these days are going with the wildly bad faith and not even remotely true reading of "it's OK to deny transition-related care to trans people, because they don't actually NEED it!"

And you know, regardless of where you're encountering this phrase, you should always bear in mind those points about being totally valid and welcome in the community without a signed doctor's note, and how it's completely valid to be, oh, a woman who's hung like a horse and proud of it and such women shouldn't be treated like they need to go see someone about that, give people the benefit of the doubt that they're using it in such a sense if there's any chance they are, and at the same time be on the lookout for bad faith creeps misusing it and taking whatever steps are necessary to prevent them from to or about any trans person again unless/until they somehow manage to stop being a hateful piece of garbage and somehow become a decent human being.

Phew. All THAT out of the, way, I take a fair deal of issue with seeing the comment above me saying "the 'not transgender' people in the poster are clearly intersex" because holy hell is that a bad faith reading. All the concerns regarding intersex kids following that jumping off point are super valid and worth mention, of course. Doctors are constantly looking at baby's junk, going "huh, that doesn't look right, lemme do a quick surgery I'm not even necessarily trained in to get this looking more like whichever configuration I personally prefer the aesthetics of here, that probably won't cause any long term memory problems or trauma and there's almost a 50/50 shot I'm guessing right about what this kid'll want things looking like down here in a couple decades!" And that is just incredibly messed up. As is the practice of just throwing, say, testosterone boosters at someone perceived to be a teenage boy who doesn't seem "manly enough" to someone, which is a general queer kid concern, sure.

But none of that is going on in this poster. What's going on is kids getting hit with puberty-related symptoms they do not want (specifically boobs beards and voice changes), clearly stating this, and asking for medical help to make them not happen. If we wanna play Occam's Razor with the kids plainly labelled as "not transgender," boys growing breasts is called gynecomastia and a quick Google search confirms that... it is completely useless as a search engine because it's giving me 20 conflicting reputable-looking sources ranging from 1% to 70% of teenage boys. Facial hair on cis women is also really freaking common, to a point where it being relatively rare if you're white specifically makes it feel more like a racism thing than anything.

The real thing to remember though is that the obvious reason this poster exists is to get people who are completely uneducated on any of this and have been steadily exposed to propaganda from transphobes for their entire lives to the point where they have a hard time imagining trans people as actual human beings to consider the concept of HRT from a clear perspective by taking us out of the equation for a moment and just making them try to empathise with kids dealing with some of the same stuff, and it has to make that point in less time than it takes someone to finish walking past this telephone pole or wherever else someone might place this. And... OK if I'm really honest it's probably still too wordy and reliant on people having SOME idea of what being trans even means, but it's pretty good within those restrictions! Don't overthink it! Really don't project stuff that absolutely is not actually on there onto it! Focus more on actual bigots and doing something about what they're doing than nitpicking people who are doing good effective activism work you'd phrase differently!

This is the first time i’ve seen a pro-trans poster in a long time and i hope whoever put it up is having a good day, it made me feel a little less alone.

Hamilton, New Zealand

[seosracha]

⸻ SAINT MATTHEW'S ACADEMY II (preview)

- "i haven't quite moved on from who you were before"

SYNOPSIS ⸻ heeseung at the start thought he wouldn't mind if you forgot him. but now with his best friend fighting for that sacred position in your heart, he can't help but try to make you remember.

PAIRING ⸻ lee heeseung x fem!reader x park sunghoon

GENRE ⸻ love triangle, exes to ??, friends to ??, private school au, angst, smut, fluff

TAGS ⸻ tba.

EST. WC ⸻ 20-25k

PREVIEW BELOW CUT ->

No more words, you said no more words after his confession. You stayed silent, and that pain flooded you today. The silence stayed with you.

Every night you’d spend on a phone call with him, laughing because no matter how hard you begged him he wouldn’t hang up first, was now filled with the darkness and tranquility of your room, the only sound being the cars that sped past your window or occasionally drunk people who’d loudly call out to taxi’s.

A tall figure towered over you, casting a dark shadow on your papers. An intense scent radiated off of them and you knew exactly who it was.

“Did Sunghoon come to school today?” Jay asked, just like he has every single day.

There was also Sunghoon. Another person you hadn't spoken to. Another person that just disappeared.

His presence in the situation felt so foggy, confusing. Your growing feelings for the boy also confused you.

Did Heeseung tell him to kiss you like that, touch you in those places?

You tried calling him, once, then twice and you’d call again a third time just in case the other two didn't go through. But he didn’t answer anymore. You didn't know if you wanted to speak to him so badly to find out what happened before the party or because you missed him.

Maybe it was both.

Jay chose to stick by Sunghoon almost immediately, which was appaling considering he knew Heeseung much longer. He claimed that Sunghoon just gave into his manly desires and Heeseung is wrong for punching him over nothing. ‘I’d do the same to her if I were him’- Jake forwarded a couple weeks back.

You were no longer mad at Jay, you’d no longer get annoyed at his snarky, degrading remarks. You just accepted the fact that he’ll never get better.

“No, he didn’t” you replied, turning around to face him “Just like he didn’t yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that one too” you added, a sarcastic smile on your face.

He dyed his hair, the blond locks no longer complimenting his sharp features. He looked much softer with the brown dye.

He sighed “Can I sit?” Jay eyed the seat next to you, and you looked at him amused.

“You want to sit next to a woman? Won’t my female aura disturb your studying?” you scoffed, a hint of sarcasm in your tone.

He rolled his eyes “Very funny” he looked over to Jake who has finally caught a whiff of him “Jakey, what you say?” he tilted his head.

The relationship between them used to be strong, but that’s probably because Jake pretended to be someone different, someone much ‘cooler’. Cooler as in a lame pig who liked to shove alcohol down innocent girls throats.

Oh you’d never let him forget that.

“Do whatever you want, I don’t care honestly” he replied, avoiding eye contact with him.

That’s how it was most day’s at school. Jake and Jay pretended to hate each other, not care, even though deep down, they still had so much left to say. Jay would come down to the study hall with an excuse of looking for Sunghoon, just so he wouldn’t be lonely.

[brutalfantasytarot]

PICK A CARD TAROT READING: WHAT DOES YOUR SOULMATE THINK OF YOU? 💘

take a deep breath. study the images. which one calls for you?

[left to right -

PILE ONE: three of cups, ace of swords 

your soulmate views you as someone who's refreshing. as someone who has lots of hobbies. as someone who brings truth to every situation. you're a visionary. it's possible you wear glasses. you keep them on their toes. a day with you is never boring. you're always teaching them something new. a fun fact, introducing them to a new show or book. they love how witty you are. they've been looking at engagement rings since you two met, certain they're going to marry you one day. they view you as someone with a lot of friends and they love that these friends mean everything to you. they love that nothing is superficial with you. you're truly an answered prayer to them 💘

PILE TWO: the hanged man, nine of wands, judgement

your soulmate views you as someone sent right from the divine. they think you have psychic powers. they view you as someone who has a balanced crown chakra that allows you to know things before they happen. you are blessed with intuitive insight and this is very apparent to your soulmate. they're drawn to that about you. they view you as a fresh start. meeting you has made them reassess their entire life. they're likely going to move or switch jobs or cut certain people out of their life after your two souls embrace. your soulmate has been battling their entire life and you give them the strength to move on. to succeed. to claim the life they desire. they will write about you in the most loving, graceful way. they'll propose outdoors, most likely during a picnic, in the freshest most vibrant grass. with people around, but you're still rather secluded 💘

🦋💓

ko-fi.com/brutalfantasytarot - for a personal, in-depth love reading 🌷

[unar-mage-ddon]

been thinking about brain (as if i don't think about him constantly already) and lately i always end up coming back to this one little thing that i promise isn't meant to be a burn against him — what's this guy's friend situation like?

these two lines in particular ("friends. cool." and "friendship's a beautiful thing." respectively) stick out the most, especially the second one because in japanese, the literal meaning is more like, "friendship's great; makes me jealous." which i've always found kind of interesting at this stage of the game because that kinda implies he still doesn't consider the other union leaders his friends yet, right?

so i went digging a little to see if he ever referred to them as such and came up with these two—

—where he uses the word 仲間 in reference to them, the first one referring to player. it can mean "friend," but it's a little closer to "ally" or like "acquaintance" — it's the same word you'd use to refer to coworkers or fishing buddies, people you'd hang out with or are friendly towards but not necessarily confide in, that sorta thing. close, but there's a slight difference.

(there's also this line — "well, since your friend is here and the makeup of this world is complicated, i'll try to keep things simple..." — where he refers to player as お友達, with the お at the beginning being a polite way to say "your friend." not really related to the rest of the post, i just think it's kinda funny since he normally speaks so casually)

anyway, all of this, to me, comes across as him keeping himself kind of emotionally distant from the others, not really letting himself think of them as more than just "allies working towards the same goal" for one reason or another.

and then the fountain scene happens:

his very last line in the game and he finally calls ephemer, at least, his friend. but it's not 友達, it's not even 友人; the word he uses is 親友, which is what you'd use for close friends — for all intents and purposes, best friend.

(自慢 means pride or to boast by the way. he's so proud of his best friend. i'm going to start eating glass)

so . i don't have a point to make with any of this i just wanted to share my thoughts from the last two days. brain makes me really emotional ok

[dood-itsradical]

Same Difference.

Pairing: Jake Kim x F!Reader

Summary: Never the one to speak of your father, Jake beat you up to it. Finding the irony of the situation.

Genre/Trope: Fluff, established relationship, friends to lovers.

Details: 1.1k words, tomboy!reader, f/name stands for father's name, reader's dad is gen 0 hotshot.

A/n: It's only been two days since I last posted. I'm just itching to write/post and not doing it actually makes me tweak. I love feeding y'all 😔 As always I don't do requests.

Masterlist

"Hellooo...! Earth to (Name)."

The snapping finger finally released yourself from your daydream.

"Huh?" You turned to Jake. "Oh, sup J." You brushed your hair back.

"You alright? How far are you?" He leaned on the desk to your side. You shake you head, ignoring his question. "Sorry, what were we talking about?"

"Right." He nodded, decided not to pry on you further. He gestured the boxes and files, "You were helping me getting rid of these junks?"

Giving him a weird look as you put two and two together since it's obvious that he could've just given this task to anyone.

"If you wanna hang you could've just said so, you know." You deadpanned.

He shrugged innocently, "Guilty but I wanna be careful. See if there's some stuff I might wanna keep."

You grimaced, pulling a grin. "Might."

"Might." He cringed. "Because see this." He pulled out old photos to you. Most of them were Gapryong Kim, no doubt. Few were him with other folks.

You took them from his hand, looking closely for yourself, "What are you hoping to find? I thought you hated the guy."

"Can't a guy look around without feeling bitter? I ain't a sissy."

His casual reply made you rolled your eyes. But you get him. And good for him for getting over the grudge. Or not. It's no rocket science that he's just hiding it for the sake of his image. Especially to you. To anyone, really.

"Huh."

"What?" You turned at him.

"Didn't know he and (F/Name) knew each other. Not surprised but, damn."

Your brows lit up but luckily he didn't notice. You leaned closer towards him to take a good look at what he meant. And well what'd you know? His old man and your old man standing together.

"You...know him?" Jake nodded, "Not much. But I heard enough. I always wanna learn (F/Name) fighting style. That fist. I just couldn't get it right." He formed his own fist, demonstrating his failed attempt.

Your gaze trailed at his body posture curiosity. You take notes to what he lack. Almost as if you're be able to scan him right here and then.

"Like this." You instead automatically showed him how it's done without feeling like you're showing off. You aren't. You're just show what you know. So forming a fist of your own, you leaned your upper body forward slightly and push the air, mimicking a subtle punch.

"This?" He followed you, again still getting it wrong. You shook your head, scratching your neck, "It's a bit complicated. I don't know how to explain."

Jake grinned and relaxed his body once more. "Don't be like that. Teach me. You know didn't you? I've never seen you kick ass up close before, it's not fair."

You only chuckled and continue with the junks. But does he stop talking about (F/Name) after that? No. And it confuses you. What did he see in your father that you don't? To you, he was just a guy with knowledge to pass down before he grow old. But an old fashioned influencer? You legit thought the guy was a nobody. He was an isolated man. Respect or feared by many. Never in your life thinking he'd get out there. Let alone having friends. Friends are too generous. Colleagues are more like it.

"Does he...have any kid?" You didn't know why you asked that, but you were mindful enough be vague about it. You were quite curious now that you know your pop was, or still is a big shot. Might as well use the privilege by hearing it from Jake.

He nodded, tossing the papers into the burning barrel. "One. A son. Never seen him. People said he's good too. His first kill was when he was nine."

Your face hardened. First kill. Nine years old. You really didn't wanna hear about that. Seems like words do come around here. And a son. People refer you as 'the son'. It makes you wonder if that's what your father rather see you as or you just look like one. Besides, you hardly get by proper friends back then. Son or daughter, same difference. They were all afraid of him. The thought still makes you slightly somber. Your movement slowed.

Jake notices but continue, "Got something you wanna share? I won't bite. I'll get it if you have a bitter pasts with him. Consider how knowledgeable you are." He tossed the last one in his hands then sit down on a portable chair. "But I'm curious about what you've learnt. Hell, I'm not gonna lie, I'm very curious. So...why not be a doll and share it? With your favourite boy Jakey?"

Your solemnity faded, replaced with a snicker, "'Jakey'? You really know how to persuade me. You persuade better than girls do."

"Yes, well, it's part of the big deal." He lays out his one-liner like winning an award. You laughed, tossing the papers towards him but missed completely as they flew to the opposite direction. "Oh my God. You're not gonna stop using that, are you?"

He laughed with you, leaning back only to lose his balance and landed his back on the ground. You both shared another round of laughter.

"Okay but seriously. I can't know?" He kept himself laying on the ground for a bit, eyes stayed on you.

"I never said that. I'll be honoured to teach you." You sighed, stretching your arms. "Besides, I hate to keep you in the dark. We're friends-"

"Boyfriend and girlfriend." He quickly corrects you.

"Right, sorry. And I'm too guilty for not telling you that (F/Name) is actually my dad."

He nodded, "Yeah, I totally get that. I'd be to- wait." He paused, "...What??" now standing up to look at you properly. He comes forward and grasps your shoulder firmly with intense eyes. "Please. Teach me."

Save to say he took it pretty well. And as promised during your spare time you spar with him by teaching him what your father had taught you. Seeing him so concentrate surely piqued your interest. You have so much to focus on. From fixing his postures and techniques to his constant shirtless, sweaty, covered-in-tattooed self.

"That's it for today." You exhaled, wiping your sweat with a cloth.

"You go ahead, I'll meet you inside later." He insisted. But you didn't leave yet. "You could use the break too. I hate to...hit the shower alone." You muttered, hoping he didn't hear that part. But he did, now staring at you like a deer caught in a headlight. Now you feel embarrassed. You're no better than him. Flustered as he is.

"Nevermind, um, forget I said that." You turn your head sheepishly. He was quick to catch up with you. "No, no. I'll come too."

"No, it's fine-"

"I'm coming, no take backs. You, me, shower. Yes? Yes. Okay." He fastened his pace, pulling you by his arm effortlessly. He's totally gonna be the death of you.

[randomgirl005]

The Secret History

Hi! I'm currently halfway through the book, and I thought I would share some reflections I've had about what I've read so far.

I find it absolutely fascinating how the story draws you in, and you unconsciously start resenting Bunny. You feel like he’s making everyone’s life impossible and that he’s half-crazy. But honestly, it’s wild because, at the end of the day, they’re all a bunch of unhinged people who’ve murdered someone—they’re literally killers! And the problem isn’t Bunny—it’s Richard, who just keeps living his life alongside them as if nothing happened, sharing his day-to-day with them without it affecting him at all. And, of course, the book is narrated by his future self, which is what gives you this initial perspective. Insanity how it all is written.

Bunny is the kind of person you could easily dislike in any other context because of his personality, his stupid jokes, and his overall vibe. But in this situation, you hate him because he’s losing it over the fact that his so-called "friends" (who end up killing him) are actual murderers.

I mean, they make him out to be this awful person, when the ones taking people's lives (just because they’re high out of their minds) are the others. And Richard narrates it all while siding with the murderers!?!? Like, the real problem is Richard. He’s the one who's messed up (honestly, it could be me).

So, here’s my reflection halfway through the book: if someone you care about, someone who’s part of your life, practically part of your daily routine, commits a murder or some other serious crime—would you be able to carry on normally with that person? Yes, they’ve committed a crime, but they’re still the same person you laugh with, talk to, and hang out with. It hasn’t directly affected your relationship or your life (beyond knowing and covering for it). So what do you do in that situation? Do you lose it like Bunny, or do you just go with the flow like Richard?

I mean, they’ve directly told you about it. You haven’t seen proof, nothing suspicious has happened, there’s been no change in their attitude, and it hasn’t altered your environment or the way you relate to them. Would the relationship stay the same? Would you really notice the difference? Or would it just remain as casual as someone telling you they bought a new car?!??

Obviously, the most logical thing would be to go to the police, but let’s ignore that part for now.

Let me know if you've got any other thoughts about it!

[something-wild-calls]

Getting another part out before Christmas, woo! :D

Previous

FIRST

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Cody trotted alongside Jordan, who had a rather chunky brilliant red and orange feathered staffwyrm clinging to him. He met its flame-colored eyes, but couldn't guess what it might be thinking.

They passed through clusters of buildings that nestled in patches of greenery and perched atop small hills. Today was the fifth day since his encounter with Jamie in the woods. He'd completely healed, and not for the first time he found himself enamored by the possibilities that came with magical healing.

It was a pleasant town, with folks they met along the way waving good-naturedly. Most had curious glints in their eyes at the sight of the stranger among them, but none held any hostility.

He had to wonder... how long would that last?

He gently wrapped his arm under the tattered bag draped over his shoulder, feeling comforted by the lump that weighed it down. To take his mind off his worries, he asked, “No Jamie today?”

“She might be around somewhere.” The chief shrugged. “She hangs out at the edge of the valley most of the time. Or with the griffins.”

“Griffins?” Cody glanced at the sky, as if the mention of them would summon some of the large winged beasts. He caught sight of some in the distance, but he couldn't make out any details on them. “Are there a lot around here?”

Jordan nodded. “There's a huge colony living in the northern cliffs of the valley. There's something of a long-held agreement between our town and them—We work together to keep the territory safe.”

The blond boy smiled. “Huh. Neat!” At the same time, a chill ran through him as well. He considered asking on a further thought, but decided it would be better to hold off. The need to ask may not even arise, but if it did, it might be better to be in the Chief's good graces than a stranger among his people.

As they continued along in discussion, the houses and buildings began to thin out, with the paths being edged in more and more wild growth.

Soon the path they walked was alone in the wilderness aside from lampposts to light the way come night. A smaller path split right from the larger main road that led out of town, and Jordan took Cody down this way. The trees and plant life filled the boy with a sense of calm. Birdsong filled the air, and the quacking of ducks sounded, rising in volume as they walked.

~ ~ ~ ~

~ ~ ~ ~

Cody stood in the entry way as the door clicked behind him, uncertain where to go from here.

His host, Frenzy, hung his hat on a coat rack nearby and gave Cody a nod. Without saying anything or changing his expression, he strode into the heart of the house. The blond boy noticed his gait was uneven, and the man now gripped a tall cane in his hand that clacked softly on the floor as it matched its owner's footsteps.

The place was cozy, dotted with dressers, bookshelves, and small trinkets. In the living room, a couple of comfortably padded chairs sat invitingly, a coffee table shared between them. Against a wall was a couch with small tables on each end.

Cody turned to Frenzy. "Do you, uh... does someone else here?"

He shook his head. "Nope. Just me." He beckoned. "I'll show you to your room."

With his bag strap in hands tight and slicked with sweat, he followed the man.

"Here y' are."

Frenzy flicked on the light, and Cody scanned the room. It wasn't terribly big, but it still seemed like a nice place to call his own, at least for the time being. As he stepped in, he let out the breath he'd been holding. "It's nice here, Frenzy."

"I like to be open to company. If needed."

Cody looked toward the older man, who stood in the doorway of his new resting place. His hands wringed the bag's strap anxiously. "You, ah, d-don't seem like the type to like company."

For a moment, Frenzy was silent, and his expression shifted, though Cody still couldn't read it. Then, he shrugged. "No. Not really. But I don't hate it."

The boy hesitated, still unsure about his new situation. "Uh, do you mind if I take a moment to get settled?"

Frenzy nodded again, backing away from the door. "Go right ahead." He paused a moment, and Cody caught a flicker of something in his gaze. "My home is your home now... 'Cept my room. Andy my workshop. Stay outta those. Please."

Cody nodded. "Yes, Sir."

Frenzy gently shut the door. Cody listened as the sound of his steps and the tapping of his cane faded away, and once he was alone, he approached the neatly made bed and sat on it with a sigh. A clock ticked on the wall in the silence, and the boy looked around.

A window caught his attention. He set his bag gently on the bed and walked over to it, fiddling with the latch. He was happy to find it slid open smoothly, and no screen barred it. Leaving it open a considerable amount, he returned to the bed. Before sitting, he leaned over to see what kind of space was underneath it.

Plenty.

Good.

Finally he sat back on the bed next to his bag, and, carefully, he unzipped it. The pink head of Pari peeked out at him, the russet mark across her face beaming a false grin while her pale purple eyes shone anxiously.

Still, they exchanged a smile as Cody gently cupped her head in his hand. He leaned in close to her, glancing at the door.

In a whisper, he said, "Guess we're gonna have to be careful again, Pari." He sighed. "Just until I can find a good time and way to tell him about you..."

And what for?

The mental voice growled, low and hopeless.

Just to be back on the road, traveling endlessly to each town that will let you in only long enough to gather your senses.

Cody laid back onto the bed, his legs hanging where he'd sat them.

He tried to tell off the voice of doubt, but it persisted.

We should just thank Frenzy and Jordan for their willingness to help and move on. There's no point in staying.

Pari hopped onto the boy's chest, gazing down at him with concern.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a crouch on top of him, and she nuzzled his chin. A purr rattled in her throat.

At that, Cody couldn't help smiling.

How many people were bold enough to learn that imps could purr?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Introducing a new cast member, ~Frenzy~

Previous

FIRST

[fucktoyfelix]

Building Consent Culture

From consent.academy

"Consent” is a word with many meanings and applications. It is more than ‘no means no’ and ‘yes means yes’. These simple rules are sometimes helpful, but consent applies to every part of our daily lives - and life can get complicated!

Consent is mostly about feelings, sensations, and power. And feelings, sensations, and power are really complex things. ​How easy is it for you to talk about your feelings? Do you always understand why your body is having different sensations? Do you always know how powerful you are?

Consent is about slowing down and taking in the bigger picture. One way to understand consent is to consider it a shared feeling created together through a process of constant, collaborative discovery. It’s a feeling that comes from voluntary agreement (made without coercion) between those with decision-making capacity, knowledge, understanding, and autonomy.

Consent is present in all forms of human interaction (not just sex). 

Practicing consent creates a space where the safety and agency of all parties is honored, using healthy communication and negotiation to craft informed boundaries. Consent, explicit and implicit, is dependent on the context of the situation, and can be revoked at any time. In any given day, consent is affirmed and violated multiple times. People do it to us and we do it to other people. Creating the conditions for consent is a skill that gets better the more you practice. We need to practice consent in regular, day-to-day situations so we’re prepared for more intense ones like driving a car, being in romantic relationships, and having sex. If we violate consent in these situations, we could cause serious, lasting harm. Practicing consent everyday lowers the risk of consent violations happening, and it also prepares you for what to do when things go wrong.

How Do You Practice Consent?

There are many ways to practice consent. Below are 4 pillars to help you practice consent in your own unique contexts:

1) Capacity 

Capacity is about how able you are to both give and receive consent. How much ability do you have to describe exactly how you feel and make decisions that are right for you? And how much ability do you have to listen to the feelings and decisions of others? Slow down, pause, and check in with yourself and others on how you are really feeling, emotionally, physically, and mentally.

If someone’s capacity is lowered in some way, there’s more risk of a consent violation, so try and find out if there’s anything you can do to help boost each other’s capacity. The mnemonic H.A.L.T.S. can be helpful to check in on some important aspects of capacity - Hungry, Angry, Lonely, Tired, Sad/Sick/Stressed out.

Recognize that alcohol and other substances can lower your capacity a lot, if not entirely - if someone is unconscious, unable to remember what’s happening, or otherwise incapacitated, then the risk of consent violations is essentially guaranteed for most activities, but especially intense ones like driving or sex. People who are incapacitated need help to prevent harm occurring, so try to give the care they need, even as a bystander.

2) Information

Informed consent is about knowing and understanding exactly what you’re being asked to consent to. Is everyone answering questions honestly? Is everyone sharing and being open with the information they have? Does everyone understand what the words being used actually mean? Going through the “who, what, where, when, why, and how” is a good way to gather information. Pay special attention to the ‘what’, ‘why’, and ‘how’. For example, what does ‘hanging out’ mean? What exactly is a ‘date’? What does ‘having sex’ mean? Why do you want to do this activity, and with this person? What are the risks involved and how are you going to address them? The more you share and check for understanding, the less risk there will be of consent violation.

Being clear about what you're asking for is super important if you want to avoid misunderstandings and unintentional consent violations. And if someone asks you to do something, and you're not sure exactly what they mean or want, ask for clarification. You don't have to agree to something you don't fully understand.

 3) Agreement or Boundary Setting

​Once you have checked in on capacity and shared the information you need, the next step in the ongoing process of consent includes asking questions, making agreements, and setting boundaries. Being explicit is the least risky way to make an ask and set an agreement or boundary. Being explicit means being as clear and specific as possible. This includes:

Saying the words! Accurately describe the activity, how you feel about it, and if relevant, name the body parts involved. If it’s too difficult for you to say out loud, it’s too risky to do!

Setting time limits: Maybe you want to try something for a certain amount of time, or maybe you only have enough capacity for a limited amount of time. Setting a time limit is a good way to combine agreements and boundaries. For example, you might say, “I’m willing to try this, but if I don’t like it after 5 minutes, I want to stop.”

Some people say consensual agreements should be enthusiastic - enthusiasm is great, but sometimes people can seem enthusiastic when they’re actually nervous or scared. Judging someone’s body language can give you helpful information, but always ask how someone is feeling rather than assume. The way someone’s body is responding is not always representative of how they feel.

Again, agreement and boundary setting is part of an ongoing process. Take lots of breaks to check in on sensations specifically - how does your stomach feel? Is it tense or relaxed? Are your hands and feet warm or cold? How is your heart rate? Do you need a bathroom break? Asking questions like this gives someone the chance to figure out how they’re feeling by letting their mind and body catch up to each other. It also lets that person know you care about them as a whole person, and you understand that sometimes what we imagine something will feel like isn’t always the reality.

Remember that just because someone said ‘yes’ to something before, they don’t have to say ‘yes’ again. And if someone changes their mind in the middle of an activity - that’s ok! Stop and ask if there’s something else they’d rather do. Give people lots of time and space to answer honestly. Lastly, remind people often that saying ‘no’ is ok. It’s easy to forget, especially if we don’t feel powerful in a situation, or get overwhelmed by sensations.

4) Autonomy

Autonomy is why we practice consent at all. Autonomy is everyone’s inherent right to decide what’s best for their own body, mind, spirit, and story. If anyone wants to do something that involves other people’s bodies, minds, spirits, or stories, they have a responsibility to communicate and help create the feeling of consent between everyone involved. If they don’t, everyone gets to decide for themselves if they feel a consent violation has happened to them (this is when your boundaries have been crossed and you feel harmed). We all violate consent at some point, even if unintentionally, so we should practice taking accountability for our actions, as we would want others to do.  Accountability can be difficult but respecting someone’s ‘no’ is one of the easiest ways to honor autonomy. Don’t try to convince people to change their mind. Making someone feel afraid or unable to say ‘no’ is coercion, and a guaranteed way to violate consent. Also recognize that the absence of a ‘no’ is not a ‘yes’. Don’t assume that the way someone is dressed or behaving means they really want to say ‘yes’. Just don’t assume - it’s way too risky. Ask questions, listen carefully, and respect how people respond. Despite how complicated things can get, practicing consent can also be this simple.

[cowboylikesvt]

Spider-boy! 🕸 🎸🎧

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Chapter 4: Putting the “C” in Physics

warnings: Cursing

Word count: 1.5k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

Bouncing a leg up and down is a habit you’ve had ever since you were a child, which you’re currently doing as you wait for your tutor to arrive. It’s not out of impatience or anything; it’s nothing like that at all. You never really knew why you did this, but every time you awaited something, you always found yourself bouncing your leg or tapping a foot.

Maybe you just felt antsy. Maybe you were anxious. You never gave it much thought since you always found yourself doing it no matter how serious or unserious the occasion was. It’s just normal. Well, you guess it is for you, at least.

Sitting in the window of the coffee shop, there are all kinds of different people walking by. Businessmen in suits heading to their corporate jobs, nurses in scrubs heading to the hospital a few blocks away, and parents walking hand in hand with their children.

It was something so normal, but still, it stirred something within you. Sure, some parts of your life could be considered normal, but deep down, you craved that normalcy and obliviousness that the average person had. The one thing you knew you’d never be able to have. Never again, that is.

You never thought about being a full-time superhero, such as someone like Spiderman. You were selfish in a way. You can’t just easily suppress those feelings and put them aside for other people. That may be why you’re a cat burglar (see what I did there). You may not steal from the average person, but it’s enough of a distraction and adrenaline rush to make you forget about that ache deep inside your chest.

That’s why you don’t like Spiderman. Not because he’s annoying or always in your way but because he was a genuinely good, selfless person. He may not have the normalcy or obliviousness you crave, and he may even crave it as well, but he doesn’t let that get in the way of what he believes is right.

In a way, your entire situation could be viewed as wrong. What you do is wrong. How you do it is wrong. It’s all unethical. However, it’s deeper than that. There’s more to it, so you like to tell yourself everything is just morally grey. (That’s why your friends are still your friends, but more of the details of that later.)

Snapping out of your thoughts, you look up to the entrance and see the boy you met the other day. You watch as he glances around looking for you, so you stick your hand up in the air and wave so he can spot you.

You see him smile when he spots you, and you smile back as he walks over. He bumps into an empty chair at someone’s table as he walks over.

“Sorry, sorry,” Jisung says apologetically to the people at the table while cursing at himself mentally for embarrassing himself.

“Hi! I hope this table is alright; it was the only empty one when I got here. I also got us both hot lattes since it’s cold out; I hope that’s ok. I don’t know what you would want.” You greet Jisung nicely and slide the coffee cup over.

He takes his jacket off and hangs it on the back of the chair. “That’s fine, thank you!” He reassures you with a soft smile as he sits across from you. He bends over to grab his textbook and notebook from his bag.

“I’m going to be honest: I suck at physics,” you say awkwardly but honestly nonetheless. He deserves to know what he’s getting into. “Like, I’m really bad at it. Really bad.”

Jisung gives you a sympathetic look. “It’s alright; besides, that’s what I’m here for. What grade are you aiming for?”

“Well, I have an F right now, so I’m failing. I’d like to get it up to a D with the next test and possibly a C for the semester.” You begin to pull out your own notes and textbook from your bag.

He nods, “That should be doable.” You raise your eyebrows. “Really?” You say surprised, raising your eyebrows.

He starts to explain it to you as he writes it all down on a piece of paper. “Let’s say right now you have a 58 in the class. Getting a C on the next test could raise your grade up to a low D. With all of the assignments and extra credit being assigned, that could get your average up to about a 65.” He does the math in his head and hums to himself.

“We have another test after the one coming up. Then after that one is the final. So if you get a C on the next exam and then a B or higher on the following exam, you could finish the class with about... a 74 or 75. Depending on how the professor rounds it.” He then sets his pencil down, and you stare at him in awe.

“You did all of that in your head? That quickly?” You question the guy sitting in front of you. He rubs the back of his neck, chuckling nervously, “Oh, uh, I’m just really good at math.”

You nod, “I can see that.” You then look at the paper. “Do you think I could get a B in the class?”

“Hmm, I don’t know. It will be really hard, but it’s not impossible, I guess. You just have to do well on the next two tests and the final. I think if the professor gives out more extra credit opportunities, it could make it more likely too. I don’t know if he will, though.” He answers honestly. “I think it would be best to aim for a C for now since that seems to be the possible outcome.”

“Ok, then I feel better about this.” You then look up at him. “Not that I didn’t think you wouldn’t be helpful! I just didn’t know if it would be possible.”

Jisung shakes his head and waves his hands in front of him. “Oh, I didn’t think that at all. Don’t worry; I would never think that. EVER.” He then laughs awkwardly, giving you a confused look.

“Oh well, alright then,” you pause, thinking of how to break the now awkward silence. “Well, should we start then?”

“Right, yes. Yes, of course. That is why we are here.” He is a bit all over the place and a bit… well, strange, but he’s nice, and you know he is the best option when it comes to help, so you just brush it off.

He thinks to himself before speaking. “Let’s start with Newton’s Laws of Motion,” he smiles, flipping to a page in the textbook.

“Right,” you smile, then pause and then laugh awkwardly. “Uh, so… What is that?”

He looks up, and his eyes widen a bit. This is going to be harder than he thought.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

“Ok, I think I got it. Can you check it?” You slide the paper over to Jisung for him to check the problems he gave you to solve after an hour and a half of tutoring.

He nods and checks the problems. “You got everything right.” He smiles. “See, I told you that you could do it. You just needed a bit of confidence. After a few more sessions, I’m 100% sure you will be able to do these with your eyes closed.”

You can’t help but smile brightly at him. “Thank you so much for your help. It all makes so much sense now! I don’t know why I was so nervous. Honestly, you’re a better teacher than our actual professor.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that, but—well, I guess I am a pretty good teacher.” He lets the compliment go to his head. After all, it’s coming from you, the most beautiful person he has ever met.

The both of you begin to pack your things. “So, same time next week?” You ask looking up after zipping your bag. “Yeah, yeah, that’s perfect.” He reassures.

“Great! I’ll see you next Thursday then!” You smile, then get ready to walk off.

Jisung watches you start to walk off, but he wants to say something else to you. Internally he is beating himself up, not knowing what he should say or if he should say anything at all.

"Act how you think a normal person would act," Chan's words repeat in his head. "Don't make a fool of yourself, Jisung," he tells himself before calling out to you.

You turn your head around at the sound of your name. "Next time I'll buy your coffee. I owe you one." A smile creeps up onto your lips.

"I'll hold you to it then." You then exit the coffee shop, leaving Jisung standing there pumping his fists in the air excitedly. He can't wait to tell his friends about this, mainly because he will prove that he isn't a complete idiot.

He stops and sees the people sitting around him staring at him. He laughs awkwardly and rubs his head before pointing to the door and swiftly exiting.

Okay, maybe he is an idiot.

Authors note: I’m really looking forward to the upcoming chapters as they dive more into Y/n’s backstory, family, and how she became The Black Cat. As always I hope you guys enjoyed <3

[techhiz]

part 1, part 2

Faded Spark (?)

Months had passed since Y/N’s death, but for Knockout, the pain felt as fresh as if it had happened yesterday. Every time he entered the medbay, he was struck by the haunting memory of her lifeless frame on the table. No matter how much Breakdown tried to help him cope, the guilt and grief remained like a shadow he couldn’t escape.

Meanwhile, at the Autobot base, life had resumed its usual rhythm—until a strange signal disrupted their routine.

“Optimus, we’re receiving a faint distress signal,” Raf reported, his fingers flying across the keyboard. The signal was weak, barely holding together, but it was enough to catch the Autobots’ attention.

“Can you pinpoint its location, Rafael?” Optimus asked, his deep voice calm but laced with urgency.

Raf nodded. “It’s coming from about ten miles outside Jasper. Looks like... a Cybertronian life signal. Barely hanging on.”

The room went silent for a moment.

“A Cybertronian? Out here?” Arcee questioned, narrowing her optics. “Could be a trap.”

“Or someone in trouble,” Bulkhead countered, his tone serious.

Optimus considered for a moment before turning to the team. “Arcee, Bumblebee, Bulkhead—investigate the source of the signal. Exercise caution, but if someone requires aid, we will not turn our backs on them.”

The Autobots transformed and rolled out, leaving Ratchet and the others behind to monitor the situation from the base.

The source of the signal led them to a small ravine, where they found the broken frame of a Cybertronian lying half-buried in the dirt. The bot was barely recognizable at first—missing an arm, one optic dark, and their side leaking faint traces of energon.

“Primus...” Bulkhead muttered as they approached. “Whoever they are, they’ve been through the Pit.”

Arcee crouched down to get a better look, her optics widening as she realized something. “Wait... this can’t be. This is—”

“Y/N,” Bumblebee beeped, his tone equal parts shock and disbelief.

The name struck them like a thunderclap. Y/N was supposed to be dead. The Decepticons had been mourning her for months, and yet, here she was—alive, but barely.

“She’s still online,” Arcee said, placing two fingers to the side of Y/N’s helm. “But just barely. We need to get her to Ratchet, now.”

Without hesitation, Bulkhead gently lifted Y/N’s broken frame and carried her back to the GroundBridge.

“By the AllSpark...” Ratchet breathed as the team arrived with Y/N. He immediately cleared a berth and gestured for Bulkhead to lay her down. “I thought she was dead!”

“We all did,” Arcee said grimly, watching as Ratchet began to work on her injuries. “But here she is. Somehow.”

Ratchet quickly assessed the extent of Y/N’s damage. Her frame was still in critical condition, but it was clear that someone had tried to stabilize her wounds before abandoning her. The patchwork repairs were crude—likely done in haste—but they had been enough to keep her alive.

“Her injuries are consistent with what Knockout described months ago,” Ratchet muttered as he worked. “Missing arm, optic damage, energon loss... It’s as if time stopped for her.”

“Can you save her?” Bumblebee asked, his tone pleading.

Ratchet’s optics softened as he glanced at the young scout. “I’ll do everything I can, Bumblebee. But her condition is precarious. She’ll need time to recover, even if I succeed.”

The Autobots watched in tense silence as Ratchet worked tirelessly to stabilize Y/N. After what felt like hours, the medic finally stepped back, his frame slumping slightly from exhaustion.

“She’ll survive,” Ratchet said at last. “But she’ll need rest and energon to regain her strength.”

Days passed, and Y/N began to show signs of improvement. Her remaining optic flickered weakly as she regained consciousness, but she remained quiet and disoriented. The Autobots were careful not to overwhelm her, giving her space to process her surroundings.

But as Y/N’s condition improved, a difficult question arose: should they inform Knockout and the Decepticons about her survival?

“I’m not sure how I feel about this,” Bulkhead admitted during a private discussion in the main room. “I mean, she’s Knockout’s sister. He has a right to know she’s alive.”

“And what happens if we tell him?” Arcee countered. “He’s a Decepticon, Bulkhead. If he knows we have her, he might use it as an excuse to attack us—or worse, take her back to Megatron.”

“Y/N was never really a fighter,” Bumblebee interjected, his beeps soft and thoughtful. “I don’t think she’d want to go back to that life.”

“Regardless of what she wants, it’s her choice,” Ratchet said, his tone firm. “She’s not a prisoner here, and we are not her captors. But we can’t make this decision for her.”

Optimus, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke. “The question is not whether we should inform Knockout, but whether Y/N wishes for us to do so. When she is ready, we will ask her. Until then, we will respect her autonomy.”

The Autobots nodded in agreement, though unease still lingered among the group.

As the days went on, Y/N grew stronger, and with that strength came clarity. She began to interact more with the Autobots, listening to their stories and learning about their lives. Though she still carried the scars—both physical and emotional—of her time with the Decepticons, she found a strange sense of comfort among her new companions.

One evening, as she sat quietly in the medbay, Ratchet approached her. He hesitated for a moment before speaking.

“Y/N,” he began gently, “there’s something we need to discuss.”

She turned to him, her optic dim but focused. “What is it?”

Ratchet sighed, leaning against the edge of the berth. “Your brother... Knockout. He believes you’re dead. We’ve been debating whether to inform him of your survival.”

Y/N’s expression flickered with pain at the mention of Knockout. She hadn’t forgotten her brother—not for a moment. Despite everything, she still loved him. But the thought of returning to the Decepticons filled her with dread.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to face him,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “He... he’d never forgive me if I stayed here. But I can’t go back to that life, Ratchet. I can’t.”

Ratchet nodded slowly, his optics filled with understanding. “You don’t have to make a decision right away. But know that whatever you choose, we’ll support you.”

Y/N managed a faint smile, her spark warming at the kindness in his words. For the first time in a long while, she felt like she had a choice—a chance to rebuild her life on her own terms.

The decision wasn’t easy, but she knew one thing for certain: she wasn’t the same bot who had left the Nemesis all those months ago.

And perhaps, in time, she could find a way to bridge the gap between her past and her future.

The year that followed Y/N's arrival at the Autobot base had been one of healing, growth, and transformation. Under the Autobots' guidance, she slowly regained her strength and found a new purpose. No longer the fragile and broken bot they had rescued, Y/N had embraced the Autobot cause, using her experiences to fight for a better future.

Her bond with her new allies had grown strong, especially with Bumblebee and Bulkhead, who treated her like a little sister. Though her frame still bore the scars of her time with the Decepticons, she carried herself with newfound confidence, wielding her past like armor.

But one thing she couldn’t shake was the memory of her twin brother, Knockout. Despite all the pain and suffering, she still missed him—his charm, his arrogance, the way he always managed to make her laugh. She often wondered if he’d moved on, if he’d forgiven himself for what had happened.

Unbeknownst to her, she was about to find out.

The Decepticons had launched a surprise assault on a remote Energon mine, and the Autobots had deployed to stop them. The battlefield was chaos—a flurry of blaster fire, clashing blades, and the deafening roar of explosions.

Y/N fought alongside her new family, her movements fluid and precise as she defended Bulkhead from a pair of Vehicons. Her optic narrowed as she brought her blade down on one, sending it crashing to the ground before turning to block the other’s attack.

“Nice work, Y/N!” Bulkhead shouted, smashing another Vehicon with his wrecking ball.

“Don’t get cocky, Bulkhead!” she called back, her voice carrying a teasing edge. “We’re not done yet!”

But as the battle raged on, a flash of crimson caught her optic, and her spark skipped a beat. There, amidst the chaos, was Knockout. He stood near the far edge of the battlefield, his polished frame glinting in the dim light of the mine.

He hadn’t seen her yet.

Her grip on her weapon tightened as conflicting emotions surged through her spark—relief, guilt, fear. For a moment, the battlefield seemed to fade away, and all she could see was her brother.

Knockout was in his element, darting around the battlefield with his usual flair. He didn’t relish combat, but when necessary, he made sure to leave an impression.

“Breakdown, watch your six!” he called out, firing a shot that sent an Autobot stumbling back.

“Got it!” Breakdown shouted, slamming his hammer into the ground and creating a shockwave.

But as Knockout moved to cover his partner, his optics caught something that made him freeze in place.

There, fighting alongside the Autobots, was a frame he knew better than his own.

“Y/N?” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the chaos.

It couldn’t be. She was dead. He’d seen her lifeless frame, held her cooling hand. And yet, there she was—alive and fighting.

For a moment, he forgot about the battle entirely. His optics locked onto her, scanning every detail of her frame. The scars, the missing optic, the arm she’d lost—all of it was still there. It was her.

“Y/N!” he shouted, his voice breaking with a mix of disbelief and desperation.

Y/N heard his voice and turned, her optic meeting his. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as they stared at each other, the distance between them feeling both infinite and insignificant.

“Knockout...” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Before she could say anything else, another explosion rocked the battlefield, forcing them both to take cover. When the dust settled, Knockout was already running toward her, his expression a mixture of joy and anguish.

“What—what are you doing here?” he demanded, stopping just short of her. His optics roamed over her, as if he couldn’t believe she was real. “You’re supposed to be dead! I... I thought I lost you!”

“I thought I lost myself,” Y/N admitted, her voice soft but steady. “But I survived, Knockout. The Autobots saved me.”

Knockout’s expression shifted, his optics narrowing. “The Autobots? You’re... with them now?”

“They gave me a second chance,” she said, stepping closer. “A chance to fight for something better. I couldn’t go back, Knockout. I couldn’t.”

Before Knockout could respond, Breakdown’s voice cut through the moment.

“Knockout! Behind you!”

Knockout turned just in time to see an Autobot charging toward him. He raised his weapon, but Y/N was faster. She leapt between them, blocking the attack with her blade.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” Knockout shouted, his voice filled with panic.

“Protecting you!” she snapped, pushing the Autobot back.

The fight escalated as more bots joined the fray, and Y/N found herself caught between her old family and her new one. She fought desperately to keep Knockout safe while fending off attacks from both sides, her spark aching with every strike.

“Y/N, stop this!” Knockout pleaded, his voice breaking. “Come back with me! We can fix this—we can fix everything!”

“I can’t,” she said, her optic shimmering with unshed tears. “I can’t go back, Knockout. I belong here now.”

“You belong with me!” he shouted, his voice raw with emotion. “We’re family, Y/N! Don’t do this!”

“I’ll always love you, big brother,” she said, her voice trembling. “But this is my choice.”

As the battle reached its peak, an explosion tore through the mine, sending debris flying in all directions. In the chaos, Y/N was struck by a falling beam, pinning her to the ground.

“Y/N!” Knockout screamed, rushing to her side. He dropped to his knees, frantically trying to lift the beam. “Stay with me! Don’t you dare leave me again!”

Y/N’s frame was battered and broken, but she managed a weak smile. “It’s okay, Knockout,” she whispered. “I’m not leaving. Not this time.”

Before Knockout could respond, Optimus arrived, lifting the beam with ease. He glanced at Knockout but said nothing, his expression heavy with understanding.

“Take her,” Optimus said, his voice firm. “Get her out of here.”

Knockout hesitated, his optics darting between his sister and the battle raging around them. Finally, he nodded, lifting Y/N into his arms.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’ve got you, little sister.”

As he carried her away from the battlefield, Y/N rested her helm against his chest, her spark filled with a strange sense of peace.

For the first time in a long while, they were together. And that was all that mattered.

(spoilers: there is going to be a little something for Christmas ;) )

[kingofthewilderwest]

I know tumblr isn't the largest space for TwoSet fandom, but in case anyone wanted a summary of last night's livestream:

The livestream was cozy, comfortable, and lowkey. We started it by ordering bubble tea. They were in their old, beloved Brisbane location.

They will restore all the videos, probably sometime today or tomorrow.

They will also try to reinstate the Instagram posts, though asked for patience because they're not sure how to do that.

They hid the videos because of an underestimation of fan sentiment. They didn't think people watched those old videos anymore, so they figured curate the chaff and just leave a few they were proud of for people to dig into and interact with.

They were receptive to this being the wrong choice, apologized, and talked about how in retrospect they could've done this better and communicated faster. They seemed in the know about different fan theories that popped up during the 50 days of silence.

B2TSM was definitely a passion project and it was a ton of work over the course of a year. They said they paid mid-six figures for these music videos and will be losing money off them.

They are closing down their store and once the latest round of merch for their music videos is gone, there will be no more merch.

They will not quit touring. There is now an official interest sign-up for a 2025-2026 World Tour on their website.

Their immediate plan is to take a break. They got as exhausted as they were during the kickstarter days when they were busking 24/7 on the streets.

After that... they don't know. They admit it's scary. But they want to keep forging new ground and finding new ways to advance classical music. Their mission to keep promoting classical music is ongoing.

Their last video (released today) is meant to speak to how they've felt about the last eleven years. They spoke positively and said they will never forget this chapter of their lives.

They are done-done making videos. Not to say it's impossible another won't happen (ex: TwoSet Talks), but it's best and most accurate to just say they're done-done.

TwoSet Academy is still being talked about in a vague fashion, though they did mention they have interest in promoting classical music education. So feel free to still sign up for that. Frankly it sounds like they're still figuring out what it'll entail.

They have multiple ideas of what to do next, but it'll take time for those to be honed into something good.

You can sign up for a newsletter for project and life updates to hear when they get around to it.

Since everyone was asking about health, again, they did get exhausted, but both are healthy. Brett's mysterious medical condition from 2020-2021 that people were concerned was an ongoing life thing sounds more like it was a one-time deal that exploded out from stress. He told us it was life-threatening, though, which was.... information. Relieved all over again that he got better.

They honestly but respectfully went through all the major controversies that have happened in the last year because fans asked about them. They tried to avoid going into drama or ripping into privacy, but acknowledged when something had already played its course, so answers were now okay to say. There were a few times where I think they didn't know both sides of a situation, but that's the normal and inescapable experience of being human, and insofar as everything they knew, they came off authentically and honestly in how they handled each scenario.

Controversies they went through included: the workplace allegations on reddit from 2023, the falling out with Jordan He after Fantasia, their distanced relationship with Ray Chen, and issues with content creators being inauthentic and chasing measurements like views and subscribers.

They seem like genuinely good and authentic guys. My respect to them, and I feel at peace with the whole situation.

Whole livestream just felt healing. If you want to go and hang out with Brett and Eddy, go do it there.

If you stumble into them on the streets, please go up and still say "hi."

[tealeavesandtrash]

🎄 Sweet Dreams of Holly and Ribbon: Part 9 - 4 Days Until Christmas 🎄

Read in full || Part 1 || Part 8 || Part 10 (coming 23rd Dec)

“How much food do you have for Christmas?” Sirius asks over breakfast. 

“Too much,” Lily says. “Enough to feed the street.”

“Okay but how much is too much?” 

“No such thing as too much!” James chimes in and Lily rolls her eyes. 

“The turkey is recommended twelve servings and we have more food than what will fit on the table.”

Sirius ponders a moment. “Okay, so hypothetically, if there were two last-minute guests, we would have enough? If one is Harry-size so that’s only half a portion.”

“Are you talking about Remus?” James asks. 

“I did not say that.”

James grins. “You are though, aren’t you? You want to spend Christmas with him!”

“I especially did not say that .”

“I thought they were spending Christmas with his parents?” Lily asks. 

“I mean, they were, but his mum’s come down with something so they can’t.”

Lily hums, “I mean I don’t see why not. We’ve got enough space for them.”

“Really?” Sirius asks, pointedly ignoring the way James is snickering at him because this doesn’t mean anything.

“Yeah, you’d like to see Teddy on Christmas wouldn't you Harry?” Lily says, turning to Harry at the last part. Harry, too engaged in playing with his cereal to be paying attention, simply nods eagerly when he notices his mum has asked him a question. 

Since Lily isn’t at work at the moment, Harry doesn’t need to go to nursery which means no chance to catch Remus at drop off which means Sirius is sent into town to ask him about Christmas. 

“Why can’t you just message him?” Sirius whines as James practically kicks him out the front door. 

“Because this was your idea and that’s less romantic.”

“There’s nothing romantic about this situation! I am inviting him and his child round to his child’s best friend’s parent’s house because his holiday plans fell through!”

“Yeah but you want it to be romantic, don’t you.”

“I never said that .”

“You didn’t have to say it.”

Sirius just shoots him a glare and James’ grin softens. “It’s no bad thing if you do, Pads. He’s a decent bloke and you obviously care about him at least a little.”

“Well, even if I did it doesn’t matter, he doesn’t.”

“I think he does,” James says, suddenly very earnest. “I saw the way you two together at the fete, I’m not blind.”

Sirius lets James’ words play over in his mind as he makes his way to meet Remus. Because Sirius isn’t blind, he knows Remus is attractive - the way his lip quirks up and eyes sparkle when he laughs; or the way his brows furrow in concentration when he’s thinking or listening to Teddy explain something; or how the highlights in his messy curls catch in the light and he runs his hand through his hair. 

And okay, so maybe he does have a bit of a crush on Remus, but it’s nothing more than that. 

Remus looks up when Sirius enters the shop. He’s leaning on the counter, head resting on one hand and leaning over an open book. 

“Did you forget another present?” he asks, smirking as he raises his eyebrow. 

“Ha ha,” Sirius mutters as he sidles up to the counter. “Ye of little faith, Lupin.”

“Well, what can I help you with?”

“Maybe I just wanted to hang out with you,” Sirius counters. 

Remus holds his gaze, matching his smirk and waiting patiently for Sirius to speak. 

He swallows. “Whatcha reading?” He asks after the silence has stretched out. 

Remus flicks the book over the show the cover - a scenic painting of a forest waterfall against the backdrop of mountains, with the ‘Fellowship of the Ring’ printed boldly across the top.

“Teddy's bedtime story is currently The Hobbit,” Remus explains.

“Kid’s got good taste.”

“I mean, he only picked it because our copy at home has a dragon on the cover.”

Sirius shrugs. “Valid reason, dragons are cool.”

Remus hums in agreement. He dogears the page and closes the book to give Sirius his full attention. “So,” he says 

“So,” Sirius repeats,  “Christmas.”

“Christmas?”

“Well, since you're not seeing your parents, you could spend it with us, if you wanted.”

Remus blinks at him, “I wouldn’t want to impose or anything.”

“You wouldn’t be imposing. There’s more than enough space and food for both of you.”

Remus still looks a little hesitant, “I mean, if you want me there.”

“I want you there,” Sirius insists. “And so does James and Lily.”

A shy smile slowly breaks onto Remus’ face, one Sirius can’t help but mirror.

Read in full || Part 1 || Part 8 || Part 10 (coming 23rd Dec)

@annaliza999 @marigold-hills @veganbutterchicken (If you do/dont want to be tagged in the next parts lmk <3)

[bwat5-blog]

The Pitfighter

**Spoilers For All of Arcane**

Two minutes, fifty-nine seconds. That my friends, is how long we spend with Vi during perhaps one of the most significant periods in her character's story. In the beginning of her story, Violet is a character who lives for those she loves. They are her tethers. To protect them and be with them is what drives her on, because as we will come to understand she does not see that she is worthy of that same love and protection. Not in the beginning.

And from the time we meet her after the time jump in season 1 until this point, we are seeing those tethers ripped away from her. The hope she has held onto of finding Powder and making amends, ended with her perched over her little sister as she told Vi she was ready to die, and that she was glad Vi was going to kill her.

Her hope and belief in Caitlyn, who rescued her from that hellish darkness from which she had no chance of escape, for whom she put on the uniform, ended as the only Enforcer to ever show her kindness struck her, and told her she was no different than the woman who killed her mother. Walking away from her as she cried.

Her pride and identity as one of the of the fissure folk, has been tarnished and betrayed by her own hand. She tried to do the right thing, but at the end of the day, she wore the symbol of her people's oppressors, and did violence in the streets of her birth.

There is nuance and depth to all of these situations, but my point in listing them this way is that Vi has had everything holding her together taken away. This period, which there is so little detail about the best I can find for an official length of time is "a few months", is Vi falling through darkness without end.

And as we know, it is from that darkness that she rises stronger and more resolute. She comes to love her sister as the woman she is now, not the ghost Vi was holding onto. She protects Jinx and Isha from Warwick until they get through to Vander allowing their family to know even a brief moment of joy. She is able to trust, and believe in Caitlyn after the time spent seeing the good in her sister. It is not that this period of her life is important because it does not end, but because it does. It is the ending of who Vi was, and the beginning of who she becomes.

"Is there any question of the meaning of what we were shown? It's clear what she is going through and that's enough"

"Some people don't understand the meaning of show, don't tell"

"If you need everything spelled out for you this level of adult media is not for you"

I have seen these points. I have discussed them with some of you, and some of you who have been kind enough to keep up with my writing share some of these beliefs. And that is your right. I don't mean any disrespect to you, or the wonderful and immensely talented people who brought us this story. But, simply and plainly put. I do not, and cannot agree. If all that you require of a story is to understand the plot than I have good news my friends. Hang up your spurs and open Wikipedia. The plot summary should be all that you require.

I understand the value of show don't tell. Truly I do. And its use in this show gives many of our most wonderful moments. The softening of Caitlyn's eyes the moment after she hits Vi... the horror on Violet's face as she sits on top of Jinx preparing to end her life, and sees Powder... There are countless more examples and the creatives behind this have used it to create a powerful story full of meaning that has infinite rewatch value. And I said, it's not that the meaning is not conveyed here.

Her muscle mass is decidedly less as it goes on, showing us she is taking worse and worse care of herself.

There are multiple flashes of Jinx in the crowd, watching her, (in my mind she is watching over her in the best way Jinx can process but I suppose that is up to interpretation)

Vi is ticking away the time on her wall like she is in a prison cell

She stops cleaning off her makeup after a point

None of her hallucinations of Caitlyn are in her strike team phase. They are all of the Caitlyn who was kind and loving to Vi.

There are more details I could list that many others have. Again, and I cannot emphasize this enough, it is NOT that they do not accurately and completely convey the meaning of what is occuring. But that is just not all that matters.

Those of you who keep up with my grouchy unhinged rambling, have seen my use the same phrase repeatedly in one form or another.

"Stand up for the stories that matter"

I believe the story of Arcane matters. Not because of the magic, or the fun creatures, or the cool steampunk technology, but because at it's core, it is quite possibly the most achingly human story I have seen in many years. Each character's story has been crafted with such care, their struggles and hopes and dreams layering together in such a way that they have captured the attention of people all over the world.

I have corresponded with people who have shared truly inspirational changes in their lives, because of the way in which this story connected with them. It matters. And I came here and started discussing this incredible saga with all of you because I have believed that since I was very young, and I always will. So I say this with all of the respect in the world. Feel free to condescend all that you wish, about the need of those who feel as I do to have the story "spoon fed" to us. The desire to fully understand the weight of the heroes' journey, will always be a step to the betterment of humanity.

Let me also say, that I truly have endless respect for those who brought this story to us. I should think it is quite clear from the amount of writing I have done these past several weeks, that I have deep love for what they have done. And I fully and completely admit that in real world application, there are endless complications and restrictions that resulted in the pacing and decisions of season 2, that an average person like myself does not understand. I am not in any way speaking on whatever production decision lead to this being handled in this way. And I can admit that it may be there were such restrictions, that meant it was impossible for this to be handled in any way.

But for the weight of this moment in Violet's story, for its importance in the journey of a character who cannot put herself first to the point it harms her, to sit with her in that moment where all that is left is her pain... two minutes, and fifty-nine seconds.

"There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you" - Maya Angelou, I know why the caged bird sings (1969)

[tannerkohli]

For almost as long as she could remember, Tanner had been a part of Ian's family. The day she and her mother had come into their lives, everything had changed. They found a home, a family, people that cared about them, and now it felt like everything was falling apart. "Talk to your fucking cousin about it. He's the fuckhead here, not me," she stressed again with a shake of her head. She didn't want to drag his family into whatever drama had happened, but it was almost impossible not to. What had happened that day with her and Ian had been complicated, a situation where they both held some level of fault, but neither was willing to talk about it. Her lip twitched at the fact that Solana still talked to Ian, a part of her yearning to ask how he was doing, to make sure he was okay, but the other part of her just sinking further into an anger that he was still avoiding her. The realization of what she'd said sunk in quickly, sobering her up quicker than anything else might have. Her head immediately dropped to her hands, cringing as Solana started to cry. "Fuck. Sol - I didn't...-you know I didn't mean that," she mumbled back, eyes squeezing together tightly as she tried to mentally scramble out of her drunkenness enough to say anything that wasn't completely horrid. Grabbing the blanket that was thrown her way, Tanner stayed quiet for a beat longer, her head now hanging in front of her. "I shouldn't have said that." An almost apology, but perhaps the best she could muster in her current state.

@solanaxortiz

Solana only shook her had as Tanner hissed the words back in her direction. It wasn't true, was it? Was Solana so delusional that she thought of Tanner like family and it were never the case? As Tanner said that it was Ian that decided they were no longer the case, she didn't know what to believe. Ian hadn't gone into full detail, always saying that he didn't want to spoil her friendship with Tanner, but she knew that couldn't be the whole story. Could it? "After all these years, that's it? Just done?" Solana nodded her head, "We do talk, yeah," at least, when he had the time. It was few and far between with their busy schedules but she didn't hold that against him. She watched as Tanner flopped onto the couch, parting her lips to say something else when her mind when completely blank at the woman's words. "W-what?" Solana snapped, her eyes growing wide. "Tanner, are you -" she threw her hands in the air, "that's low, Tanner, really fucking low." She would give anything to have Vance in her life again. Solana turned around, the tears now spilling down her cheeks as she went over to the other couch to grab a blanket. "Get some sleep," she tossed the blanket at her, biting down on her tongue to try to keep a sob from breaking out, "I can't believe you of all people would say something like that, Tanner." @tannerkohli