#sorry if someone else pointed this out already

[transgender-mothman]

I didn’t say D&D alone has those features:

I said ANY ttrpg does. My first ttrpg systems and campaigns (in which I was a player) were fate, fantasy age, and d20 modern. Then I went into 3.5 as my first actual d&d game.

I also did mention using other systems:

And regarding contributing to a monopoly by continuing to play things I already own… this is ludicrous. I’m not running an actual play channel and promoting WotC, I’m playing a private game with my friends using books we already have, playing the way we want to that’s fun for us. If people want to get rid of things they already own/enjoy because the creators have been outed as problematic, that’s their choice to make. But I don’t think anything but wastefulness would come from me throwing out my 5e books, particularly when I still use them and am no longer financially supporting the company. I support indie games and other ttrpg devs actively by playing and buying their games when I can and when they are in my wheelhouse. I’m sorry that’s apparently not enough for you.

Ptba is definitely more straight forward than d&d, and many games are, I agree. But that doesn’t mean no one should play or enjoy 5e. I’m not equating all non-d&d games with being kooky weird arthouse by using my movie analogy, I’m talking about brand consciousness. If someone hasn’t ever heard of d&d, there’s low likelihood they’d know of pathfinder. Same as how if someone has never heard of Saw, they probably haven’t heard of, I don’t know, the Coffee Table. So if i show them Saw, which is easily accessible, and they like it, i can then show them other things similar from smaller creators. I am fundamentally saying the exact same thing as you with your example of Skinnamarink. I think if people start with 5e and like it, that’s a gateway to trying a ton of other things they might like as much if not more. The point is that without the more known brand, chances are that lots of people wouldn’t be swayed to try something else that is talked about less in the mainstream.

Ultimately, my main point still stands: people can do whatever they want with things they have, and play however they like to. No one needs to or should have to justify using homebrew or modifying the game to suit their needs. Playing a game with like minded people in a way that works for all of them, is not a moral or ethical or intellectual failing. It’s just people playing a private game for fun, and deciding to let a couple of rules slide or allowing some interesting play that bends a rule in-game is not a crime. Should more people try stuff that isn’t 5e? Absolutely they should. Are people who vocally refuse to play anything but 5e missing out? Yes. They are. But again, that’s their prerogative, even if it’s unfortunate that they’re closed minded.

I hope you find your audience. Developing games is a hard thing to do, and it’s increasingly an uphill battle to be noticed. Good luck.

I think an important part of the "D&D is easy to learn" argument is that a lot of those people don't actually know how to play D&D. They know they need to roll a d20 and add some numbers and sometimes they need to roll another type of die for damage. A part of it is the culture of basically fucking around and letting the GM sort it out. Players don't actually feel the need to learn the rules.

Now I don't think the above actually counts as knowing the rules. D&D is a relatively crunchy game that actually rewards system mastery and actually learning how to play D&D well, as in to make mechanically informed tactical decisions and utilizing the mechanics to your advantage, is actually a skill that needs to be learned and cultivated. None of that is to say that you need to be a perfectly tuned CharOp machine to know how to play D&D. But to actually start to make the sorts of decisions D&D as a game rewards you kind of need to know the rules.

And like, a lot of people don't seem to know the rules. They know how to play D&D in the most abstract sense of knowing that they need to say things and sometimes the person scowling at them from behind the screen will ask them to roll a die. But that's hardly engaging with the mechanics of the game, like the actual game part.

And to paraphrase @prokopetz this also contributes to the impression that other games are hard to learn: because a lot of other games don't have the same culture of play of D&D so like instead of letting new players coast by with a shallow understanding of the rules and letting the GM do all the work, they ask players to start making mechanically informed decisions right away. Sure, it can suck for onboarding, but learning from your mistakes can often be a great way to learn.

[pbaz7]

CROSSING THE LINE — PART FOUR ♡

paige x azzi

word count: 5.5k

A/N: Alright this chapter is a little shorter than the other one's but the next few will be longer! We finally get to see the outcome of Azzi leaving 🫣. Please keep leaving comments and live reactions, they seriously make my day.

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November 2023

Paige had tried calling Azzi that morning, her fingers hesitating over the screen before she finally pressed the call button. The phone didn’t even ring before going straight to voicemail. She frowned, trying again, only to be met with the same result.

Frustrated but not willing to give up just yet, Paige decided to try Caroline, figuring Azzi might have told her where she was or needed her help if she did go somewhere. But when Caroline answered, her tone was firm, almost apologetic. “Paige, I can’t tell you,” she said. “Azzi asked me not to.”

“Seriously, Caroline?” Paige snapped, her voice sharper than she intended.

Caroline sighed. “Look, I’m sorry. I just… I can’t. You’ll have to wait until she’s ready to talk to you, she just told me she needed to get away.”

Paige ended the call feeling even more irritated, a bitterness creeping into her chest. So she moped around the suite for the rest of the day, her phone always in hand, checking it incessantly. Every notification made her heart jump, only to have her disappointment and hurt settle deeper when she realized it wasn’t Azzi. At one point, desperate to get her mind off of things, Paige tried going to the gym. She pushed herself through a far too intense workout, hoping the burn in her muscles with each set would drown out the ache she felt in her chest, but it barely made a dent in her mood. 

By the next day, when she still hadn’t heard from Azzi, her frustration had morphed into something darker. She didn’t want to admit how much it hurt—how much Azzi’s absence left her feeling hollow and unsettled—so she did what she always did when she didn’t want to deal with her emotions.

She found someone else. 

The girl showed up that evening, and while Paige went through the motions, it was different this time. Her actions were almost mechanical, her words borderline cold. She made it clear from the beginning that this was just for sex, no strings attached, and she stuck to it. When they were done, there was no lingering, no casual conversation, no pretending like she would call her. Paige stood up from the bed and handed the girl her clothes without hesitation.

“You can go now,” she said casually, her tone devoid of any warmth, of any emotion at all for that matter.

The girl looked taken aback, but Paige didn’t care. By the time the door clicked shut behind the stranger, Paige was already strolling into the common area, her expression unreadable, acting as if nothing had happened.

This pattern repeated over the next two days, Paige’s encounters becoming increasingly detached and transactional. She barely even looked at the girls as they left, her mind elsewhere entirely.

Wherever Azzi had gone, the damage would already be done by the time she got back. Paige’s hurt had hardened into something sharper, and she wasn’t sure if she was angrier at Azzi for leaving or at herself for caring so much that she did. 

…

Azzi stepped into the suite late Monday night, three days after she had left, with her bag slung over one shoulder and a determined expression on her face. She was tired from traveling back from wherever she had been, but the weariness didn’t dill her resolve. She needed to talk to Paige. 

The sound of buttons being furiously pressed drew her attention to the couch, where Ice sat with her headphones on, deeply engrossed in the game in front of her. Azzi gave her a small nod as Ice looked up.

“Hey,” Ice greeted, briefly pausing the game.

“Hey,” Azzi replied, as she glanced toward Paige’s closed door.

Ice noticed the look on Azzi’s face and raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything at first. Azzi turned away, heading straight for Paige’s door. Her hand was already on the knob, ready to open it without knocking—something she’d done a hundred times before.

“I wouldn’t,” Ice said kind of frantically, her voice cutting through the quiet.

Azzi paused, glancing over her shoulder with a confused frown. “What?”

Ice leaned back on the couch, her game forgotten for the moment, and gave Azzi a serious look. “Just… trust me. Knock.”

Azzi hesitated, the unfamiliar warning sending a feeling of unease through her. Still, she trusted Ice enough to take her advice. So with a quick exhale, she knocked on the door.

For a few moments, there was only silence as she waited. Then the door swung open abruptly, and Azzi found herself face-to-face with Paige for the first time in days.

Paige stood in the doorway, her expression unreadable, almost stoic. The usual warmth in her blue eyes was replaced by a cold detachment that sent a pang of guilt through Azzi’s chest. Azzi opened her mouth to speak, but before she could get a word out, her gaze shifted past Paige to the girl lying on her bed.

The girl was half-covered by a blanket, her hair messy and her body language far too comfortable. When the sight hit Azzi she  immediately felt like she was about to throw up and whatever words she’d been about to say died in her throat as she just stood there.

Paige’s expression didn’t change, her blank eyes meeting Azzi’s as if daring her to react. “What?” Paige asked flatly, her voice devoid of emotion.

Azzi’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. Her hurt was too sharp, too raw to translate into words. Instead, she just stood there, stunned and speechless

Paige scoffed, the sound harsh and dismissive, and without waiting for a response, she slammed the door in Azzi’s face.

Azzi stared at the closed door, still lingering as if she could somehow push through the moment. But the sight of Paige's expression and the girl on her bed played on a loop in her mind, each replay cutting deeper.

Ice watched the whole thing but didn’t say a word. She just watched Azzi, her usually teasing demeanor replaced by quiet concern. As Azzi turned away from the door, Ice’s gaze followed her retreat, but she made no move to intervene.

Azzi walked past Ice without meeting her eyes, her shoulders stiff, her thoughts racing with everything she had planned to say but couldn’t. Ice let her go, sinking back into the couch with a sigh, silently bracing herself for whatever fallout was brewing between the two. 

…

The tension that had settled between Paige and Azzi after that wasn’t just a passing thing. It was a slow burn, spreading through every practice and team event. For the past week and a half, everyone witnessed the shift. Nothing overly dramatic, nothing that caused an outright scene, but something was different. The chemistry that once seemed unshakable between Paige and Azzi had been replaced with an uncomfortable distance, one that made even the simplest things feel like obstacles. 

Nika and Aubrey worked tirelessly with one another in practice to offset the forced movements, calling plays and adjusting to shifts in defense. But the connection between Paige and Azzi was broken. The fluidity they had once shared was absent, and the team could feel it.

It wasn’t just the lack of contact between them at practice; it was the silence that filled the space between each word they exchanged. When Geno called out instructions or made them do something together, their responses were clipped, their focus seemingly more on avoiding the other than executing the plays.

Some of the team tried to pry, casual questions about how things were going between them, but each attempt was quickly shut down. Paige would just brush it off clipped comments that were emotionless, and Azzi wouldn’t say anything, simply turning away, her usual warmth replaced with a wall that many of them hadn’t seen before.

It wasn’t that Paige didn’t care—it was that she cared too much. She just didn’t know how to express it. She couldn’t even look at Azzi without feeling the ache in her chest, the gnawing sense of loss that had taken root after that morning when she woke up alone with no explanation. So, she continued to fill the void, as she always had. She barely even noticed the girls anymore, but she kept bringing them around, hoping that doing something, anything, might help drown out the silence between her and Azzi and stop the thoughts from swirling in her head.

She couldn’t quite articulate why she did it to the few teammates that asked—it wasn’t because she was interested in any of them and she definitely didn’t get anything from the exchanges. It was just that they provided a brief distraction her mind clawed at in desperation to ease the dullness she was feeling through her entire body. 

Each time Paige came home with a new girl in tow, Azzi’s irritation only deepened. She would be on the couch or in the kitchen, trying her best to remain composed, but the moment Paige walked through the door, it was as if the air shifted. Azzi’s eyes would narrow, her jaw tightening, and if she was already sitting, her posture would become rigid. Sometimes, if she was on the couch, she’d roll her eyes so dramatically that it seemed painful, the silent judgment lingering between them. She’d scoff under her breath, but never utter a word to Paige, as if silence alone could speak louder than anything she could say. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to confront Paige; it was just that the words never came.

The hurt was so clearly written on Azzi’s face every time, but Paige couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge it. Her own heart was in too much turmoil to even care about whatever Azzi was feeling. The silence, while deafening, was easier than facing the rawness of everything they’d both been avoiding.

One morning, after another night spent at a girl’s house—another night of doing absolutely nothing this time around—Paige walked back into the suite, hoping to slip in unnoticed. Azzi was already in the kitchen, a mug of coffee in hand. She didn’t look up when the door clicked open, but the second Paige stepped inside, Azzi’s voice cut through the stillness.

“Nice at least you had the decency to actually stay the night with this one.” Azzi’s words were sharp, her tone biting.

The comment hit Paige like a jab to the ribs, the weight of the unspoken accusation hanging in the air between them. She froze in the doorway for a moment, the anger building in her chest before she exhaled sharply, her eyes narrowing.

Paige’s voice was cold, her usual tone with Azzi these days. “You don’t really get to speak about that, considering your history Azzi.”

Azzi’s eyes snapped up, her expression twisted in confusion and irritation. “What the hell are you talking about?” she shot back. “I’m not the one who’s sleeping with the entire campus.”

Paige scoffed, the sound bitter as she shook her head. “Niice let’s pull the whole Paige sleeps around card” she muttered, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Whatever Azzi.”

Without another word, she turned on her heel and walked into her room, slamming the door behind her, the sound echoing through the quiet apartment.

The silence that followed was harsh, until the faint shuffle of footsteps broke it. Ice stepped out of her room, brow furrowed as she took in the tension that had been hanging in the air. She glanced between Azzi and the door to Paige’s room, clearly concerned.

“What happened?” Ice asked, her voice low, but carrying the weight of her worry.

Azzi didn’t even look up, her gaze fixed on the empty space in front of her. “Nothing. Just another day,” she said, brushing off Ice’s question, trying to sound indifferent.

Ice crossed her arms, clearly not buying it. “Azzi, come on. I heard the door slam. That’s not ‘nothing.’ What’s really going on?”

Azzi exhaled sharply. “Ice it’s nothing I want to talk about, alright? Just drop it.”

Ice, who had spent days walking on eggshells around the two of them, wasn’t having it this time. She stepped forward, her expression soft but firm. “Look, Azzi, I get it. You two are in a rough spot right now. But I’m telling you, whatever you did to her you need to fix it.”

Azzi’s chest tightened at the implied accusation. She lifted her head, her tone defensive. “Why are you assuming I’m the problem here? I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Ice’s gaze softened, but her voice remained steady. “Look, I'm not trying to accuse you of anything. I’m just putting two and two together Az. Paige was the one drowning herself in drinks that night. I had to basically carry her up the stairs when we got here. The next morning she came looking for you and she’s been like this since then…so.”

Azzi’s jaw clenched as the words sank in, but she didn’t let herself show how much they were affecting her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ice,” she muttered, eyes diverting from Ice’s gaze.

Ice let out a soft sigh, her frustration giving way to genuine concern. “Azzi You might not see it because you’re pissed at her right now or whatever, but you know Paige is the sweetest most selfless person we know. But whatever happened that night... it turned her into someone I don’t even recognize anymore. She just looks so sad or angry all the time and the few times she does crack a smile at someone it seems forced and out of obligation. That’s bigger than whatever argument you two are having. So please just fix it.”

Azzi’s breath hitched at Ice’s words, and for a moment, she felt a flicker of guilt and doubt about what she should be feeling. But she quickly shut it down, unwilling to listen, unwilling to accept that maybe she had played a part in all of this. Her mind set on her version of events. “Like I said, it’s not my fault,” she said sharply, as though trying to convince herself.

Ice’s voice grew softer, really trying to get through to Azzi. “You know Paige would do anything for you. She’d turn the whole damn world upside down if it meant you would be happy, and I know you know that because you teased her about it all the damn time. But right now whatever is going on, whatever happened I can tell she feels like you’re just... another person she’s lost and you know how she gets in her head about stuff like that Azzi.”

Azzi froze at Ice’s words, her heart beating harder in her chest. A part of her wanted to believe it. A part of her knew just how much she meant to Paige, But the bitterness inside her that had to watch Paige go back to sleeping around with random girls like it was nothing refused to let go. So she shook her head, a hard look in her eyes. “Paige treats me like every other girl she gets bored with, Ice. I doubt she’s as broken up about us not talking as you think.”

Ice didn’t even react to Azzi’s words. She had seen enough to know that they weren’t true. “Come on, you don’t even believe that,” she said, her tone calm but pointed. “You know exactly how she feels–you’re just not ready to admit it.”

Azzi didn’t respond. Instead, she let out a small, frustrated sigh and walked toward her room, shutting the door behind her without another word.

…

Even though Paige and Azzi weren’t in the best place—both of them carrying an unmistakable anger toward one another—they still cared about each other more than anything in the world. It was like they were tethered by an invisible string, a constant pull that neither could escape. No matter how far they drifted, they always came back, surfacing for a quick breath of air when they knew the other needed it most before going back under.

That’s why, when Azzi’s birthday rolled around, Paige couldn’t bring herself to ignore it. She knew how much Azzi had been dreading this day. They spent hours talking about it one day during the summer, the time where they would spend everyday getting to know one another. Azzi was spending her birthday without her family for the first time. So it didn’t matter how hurt, angry, and confused Paige was; she couldn’t let the day pass without doing something.

Azzi stepped into her room, the quiet stillness pressing against her in a way she hadn’t expected. Birthdays had always been bittersweet, but this one felt heavier—emptier. She had tried not to think about it all day, pushing the pang of loneliness aside. No family. No big celebration. Just another busy day of her telling the team she didn't want to celebrate. 

Her gaze drifted toward her bed, and she stopped in her tracks. Sitting squarely on her pillow was a small, carefully wrapped box. The wrapping paper—adorned with the smiling faces of Elsa and Olaf—brought an involuntary laugh to her lips, soft and tinged with nostalgia. She knew instantly who it was from.

The memory of forcing Paige to watch Frozen—not once, but maybe 10 or so times—brought a bittersweet ache to Azzi’s chest. With a shaky breath, she walked over, picking up the box. The wrapping wasn’t perfect, corners slightly crumpled, but it was clearly Paige’s best effort. Azzi ran her fingers over it, a sad smile creeping onto her face.

She sat down on the bed, careful as she tore open the paper. Inside was a small jewelry box. When she opened it, her breath caught in her throat. Nestled in the box was a beautiful silver heart pendant, simple yet elegant, glinting softly in the light from her room.

Azzi’s fingers traced the smooth surface of the heart, her thoughts inevitably drifting to Paige. The way she smiled, the way she laughed, even the way she annoyed her most days– every detail of the blonde seemed to live in this small necklace. But her attention was soon drawn to the card that also rested on her pillow. Her chest tightened as she opened it, already bracing herself for what was inside.

The handwriting was unmistakably Paige’s—slightly messy but deliberate ‘Happy Birthday Az.’ But what truly made her breath hitch were all the signatures and words around. They were all from every single member of her family.

Tears welled up in Azzi’s eyes as she read the words they had written, her vision blurring. Paige had somehow managed to reach out to Azzi’s family—miles away—and have them all sign the card. She couldn’t even fathom how much effort Paige must have put into this, knowing how much it would mean to her.

A single tear slid down her cheek, followed by another, until they came freely. She clutched the card to her chest, her emotions unraveling as she whispered into the empty room, “God, Paige… why can’t you just let me hate you for a minute.”

In that moment, all the pain, the distance, the walls they’d built between them seemed to crumble just a little. Even when they weren’t talking, Paige had cared enough to remind Azzi she wasn’t alone. With trembling hands, Azzi unclasped the necklace and slipped it around her neck, fastening it securely. The weight of it against her skin was both comforting and overwhelming. And that, more than anything, left Azzi completely destroyed.

Despite this, the silence that lingered between them stayed the same. Both of them were experiencing feelings they had never felt before and couldn't find it in themselves to talk to one another. No words seemed like enough to express just how broken each of them were, just how much they both felt.

There was a hesitance that lingered between them, like an invisible wall neither knew how to break down. Pride? Fear? Hurt? Maybe all of it at once. Conversations that used to flow so naturally now felt like a daunting task, weighed down by all the unsaid feelings and misunderstood actions. 

So, Paige and Azzi continued to exist in the same space, but their silence had become the loudest thing between them. The atmosphere in the apartment wasn’t as heavy but it still lingered and they both bore it in their own way. Paige had stopped bringing girls home, though it wasn’t out of any sense of compromise—more like resignation. They didn’t hold her attention, and it was more draining than anything to sit there and pretend to listen to whatever it was they had to say. The season kept her occupied, and though UConn had won their first two games, the chemistry between the players was strained. And it was clear to everyone—especially Paige and Azzi—that they were capable of so much more.

Then came the third game.

Despite the fact that UConn had won, Azzi played a game far beneath her usual standard. Missed shots. Bad decisions. A lack of the confidence that had once been her trademark. It wasn’t a total collapse, but it was jarring to watch it unfold. And everyone could feel it. The team had pulled through, but Azzi’s performance lingered in the air, like an unspoken question no one could answer.

Back in their shared suite, Azzi was isolated. She’d retreated to her room after the game, a rare moment when she didn’t have the usual fire in her eyes. The slow loss of her confidence throughout the game had been too much to handle, and as she scrolled through social media, the criticism rained down on her. The comments, the posts, the critiques—they all hit harder than they should have. The self-doubt crept in, overwhelming her. She knew she was better than this. She knew she could do better—but tonight, it felt like the world was telling her she couldn’t.

Paige, knowing exactly how much Azzi struggled with this kind of pressure knew Azzi would internalize it all, even when she shouldn't. So Once again coming up for a breath of fresh air even with the silence that lingered between them, Paige silently made her way to Azzi’s room, her hand reaching to open the door.

When she stepped inside, the sight of Azzi laying on her bed with her phone in hand, eyes red-rimmed and filled with tears, knocked the air out of her chest. Paige didn’t say a word. She simply moved toward Azzi, gently taking the phone out of her hand. Azzi didn’t fight her, didn’t protest, her hands too weak to stop Paige’s gentle movements. Paige locked the phone and set it aside before crawling under the covers next to her.

Azzi didn’t immediately respond. She kept her distance, staring at the pillow, her breathing shallow. Paige hesitated for just a moment before she carefully pulled Azzi on top of her, guiding her head to her chest. It was an unfamiliar gesture—but the silent bond they shared, the deep connection that tethered them to one another, made it feel like home the moment Azzi rested her head on Paige’s chest. Paige rubbed slow, soothing circles on Azzi’s back, her hand tracing over the familiar patterns as Azzi finally gave in, burying her face deep against Paige’s chest as the tears began to flow freely.

The silence between them was thick, but it wasn’t empty. It was filled with everything they couldn’t say. Azzi’s emotions—about the game, about herself, about everything she had been holding in—poured out in the form of quiet sobs. Paige didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. She just held her, feeling the warmth of Azzi’s body pressing against hers, reminding her of everything they still had, everything they could have.

As the time ticked by, Paige continued rubbing soothing circles on Azzi’s back, her touch slow and steady. The tension in Azzi’s body began to fade, her cries growing softer with each passing second. Paige could feel the weight lifting from Azzi’s shoulders, even if just a little, as she finally started to relax. Eventually, Azzi’s breathing evened out, slow and steady, and before long, the crying ceased altogether. The silence in the room deepened, and Paige felt Azzi’s body become still in her arms.

When Paige finally realized that Azzi had fallen asleep, her breath soft against Paige’s neck. Paige hesitated, a portion of her brain not wanting to disturb her, the other portion loving the way Azzi felt against her chest. But as much as she wanted to stay, to keep holding Azzi and never let go, she knew she had to leave. Slowly, carefully, Paige tried to extricate herself from Azzi’s grasp.

As she moved, Azzi, still in a deep sleep, unconsciously gripped onto Paige’s shirt, her hand clutching the fabric tightly, as if trying to keep her there. This made Paige’s heart ache. She could feel the pull of Azzi’s need, but as much as it hurt to tear herself away, Paige knew she couldn’t stay.

With a quiet sigh, Paige gently unwrapped Azzi’s hand from her shirt, and though every part of her wanted to stay in that bed, stay in that moment with Azzi, she slowly slipped out from under the covers. She stood beside the bed for a moment, looking down at Azzi’s peaceful face, before leaning down and placing a soft kiss on Azzi’s forehead. It was a kiss full of tenderness and care, an unspoken promise that, no matter how broken they were, there was still something between them that could be fixed.

She pulled away, her heart aching, and shut the door softly behind her.

As Paige walked toward her room, she caught sight of Ice standing in the hallway, her eyes immediately locking with Paige’s. The concern in Ice’s gaze was unmistakable, but it was the sadness in Paige’s blue eyes that struck her the hardest. Ice saw it. She saw how badly Paige was hurting, even if Paige was trying to hide it.

Without saying a word, Ice opened her arms, a silent offer of comfort. Paige hesitated for a moment, her chest tightening, before she reluctantly stepped into the embrace. She forced herself to hold it together, unwilling to break down in front of anyone. She stayed still, but her arms were stiff, her mind racing with all the things she wanted to say to Azzi, but couldn’t.

Eventually, Paige pulled back, the hug lingering just a moment longer than she wanted, and gave Ice a weak smile, barely more than a fleeting, pained expression. Without another word, she walked past Ice, retreating into the quiet of her room.

…

After that night, the silence between Paige and Azzi clearly wasn’t one of anger anymore. It was much softer, filled with longing, a quiet understanding that neither of them could fully name. They missed each other. 

It started off slow. It went from both of them keeping their doors shut all day to them leaving them open. They would sit in the common area, not speaking, but neither one of them moving to leave. It was as if the space between them was hanging on a delicate balance, each of them too cautious to disturb it. 

Paige would catch glimpses of Azzi absentmindedly playing with the necklace she had given her, the one she only took off for games and practices now. It was a small gesture that spoke volumes. Every time Paige saw it, a slight smile would tug at her lips. 

They both had waved the white flag, they just didn’t know how to break the silence. 

Paige now sat on the edge of Nika’s bed, her hands pressed into her lap, fingers twitching with restless energy. She couldn’t meet Nika’s eyes, even as her twin studied her with a knowing gaze as she was trying to get Paige to finally talk about what happened. 

“Paige,” Nika said again softly, her voice a calm counterpoint to the hecticness that had been brewing inside of Paige. “I know something’s been bothering you. It’s been weeks, just talk to me so we can figure it out.” 

Paige just shrugged, eyes flicking to the window as if the answer could be found in the dull gray light outside. “It’s nothing. I’m fine, Nika.”

But Nika wasn’t convinced. Besides Azzi she knew Paige better than anyone, knew the signs when Paige was holding something in. This wasn’t the usual “I’m fine.” This was different—subdued, like Paige was a thread stretched too thin, about to break.

“Paige,” Nika insisted, her voice softer now, “stop shutting me out. I can tell something’s been going on with you. We’ve been through too much together for you to hide it from me.”

Paige’s lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes darting to the floor. There was a tremor in her chest, and she fought to keep it contained. She wasn’t ready to talk, wasn’t ready to let anyone see the cracks in her armor just yet. 

Nika didn’t push too hard, but she didn’t let up either. She sat down next to Paige, close enough that the warmth of her body was a quiet comfort. “Come on,” Nika coaxed, her voice gentle but insistent. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but you’re not fooling anyone anymore. Definitely even me.”

Paige exhaled sharply, then, almost as if the words had been building up in her chest for too long, she whispered, “We slept together.”

Nika blinked, not sure if she’d heard her correctly. She tilted her head, voice steady but curious. “What? Who?”

Paige’s gaze snapped to the floor, her throat tightening as she repeated it, a little louder this time. “Azzi. Me and Azzi…we slept together.”

Nika absorbed the words, the weight of them sinking in slowly. She had seen the chemistry between Paige and Azzi for a while now, had seen the way they glanced at each other, the quiet touches when they thought no one was watching. It wasn’t surprising, exactly, but hearing Paige admit it was different.

“I... I don’t know what to say,” Nika said, voice soft but not judgmental. “Why is that a bad thing? It should be good, right?”

The question hung in the air, and that was when it happened. A single tear, slow and hesitant, escaped from Paige’s eye, tracing a path down her cheek; because yes, it should’ve been good. It should’ve been amazing. Paige’s hand instinctively went to her face, as if trying to catch the tear, but she couldn’t stop it. She felt it—felt everything—the confusion, the hurt, the abandonment all spilling over in that one small, silent tear.

Paige’s chest tightened, her breath catching as her walls finally crumbled in the quiet of Nika’s room. “She was gone the next day,” she whispered, her voice cracking. The words felt like rocks in her mouth, heavy and painful. “She... she just left me. When I woke up, she was gone.”

The floodgates opened then, the words pouring out faster than she could contain them. Her shoulders shook as another tear slipped free, and then another, until the tears were flowing in uninvited yet unstoppable. Paige’s chest heaved as the weight of it continued to press down on her, the pain she had been holding in finally spewing out. 

Nika didn’t say anything at first. She simply reached out, pulling Paige into her arms with a tenderness that only she could offer. 

“It’ll be okay, twin,” Nika whispered, her voice barely audible. “It’ll be okay.”

Paige couldn’t answer. She could only let herself break, the sobs wracking her body as Nika held her close, whispering assurances over and over again. The comfort of Nika’s arms right now was the only thing that kept Paige from completely losing herself to the turmoil inside her, she missed Azzi so much.

After a while she fell asleep in Nika’s bed, the weight of her emotions finally easing in the stillness of the room.

Nika didn’t disturb her. She let Paige sleep, knowing how much she needed the rest. After a few minutes, Nika gently moved away from the bed, making sure not to wake her. She grabbed a piece of paper from the nearby desk and scribbled down a quick note:

Wanted to let you sleep. Text me if you need anything. I'll be around. -Twin

With a soft sigh, Nika placed the note on the pillow next to Paige before she quietly exited the room.

The rest of the suite felt too quiet as Nika walked to the common area, her mind racing trying to figure out how to fix the situation. She needed to do something. There was only so much she could do by offering comfort. She needed to handle the bigger picture. 

She pulled out her phone, her fingers moving with purpose. Within seconds, she created a group chat with the rest of the team, making sure Paige and Azzi weren’t included. The message was simple:

Team meeting in 20 minutes. Can’t be in my suite.

[chanelnumbermine]

2024 f2 boys when someone else compliments you | f2 grid picks x gn!reader

since u liked the previous part so much, i decided to write a little more and added franquito! he has a special place in my heart after this season (mentally i’m still in imola sprint). i’m very open to learn about more drivers and add them to the list! have a nice read!

pairing(s): ollie bearman x gn!reader, kimi antonelli x gn!reader, zane maloney x gn!reader, paul aron x gn!reader, pepe marti x gn!reader, luke browning x gn!reader, franco colapinto x gn!reader;

warning(s): itty bitty possessive behaviour, mostly cuteness!!

ollie bearman | prema —> haas f1

squeezes your hand and smiled politely

"thank you. they really do light up every room."

he says dryly and tries to shrug off this weird feeling in his chest

becomes a little stiff and after a while he asks

“do random people compliment you like that often?”

you shrug and smirk, seeing he’s a little jealous

“they were right, you look stunning. i should say that more often”

andrea kimi antonelli | prema —> mercedes amg pertronas

he’s already a little flustered because you came over to see his family

you click with them instantly

"uh, thanks mom. i say it every day."

to him you’re the sweetest prettiest person ever and he sometimes forgets that other people can also see that

it’s just hard to remember about the whole world when he’s in your presence

you’re his and he’s fully yours, and he’ll spend the rest of the day clinging to you

he’s nott that good with words, but very good at making you feel loved

paul aron | hitech —> bwt alpine reserve driver

i bet it was one of your friends who complimented you

and paul? tries to outdo the other person with compliments

"you're not just radiant, darling, you look literally ethereal. you know, your eyes ere like the moon. so big and shiny."

thinks he's smooth

he's not

but he's adorable as hell, grinning like and idiot and spewing nonsense just to make you laugh

you'd have to kiss him to shut him up

“i was supposed to make you blush, not the other way around…”

zane maloney | rodin —> formula e

awkward as hell

could be even a little insecure

why would anyone dare compliment you? do they think they have a chance with you?

he tries not to show it, but is not good at it

"aww, are you pouting?" you teased him

he chuckled and scratched the back of his neck nervously

"what, me? you're seeing things"

please reassure him!! he’s the sweetest bunny

pepe marti | campos, red bull academy

"yeah, of course my baby looks beautiful tonight."

goes full on protective mode

could become sarcastic, maybe even passive-aggressive

"i knew this day would come. i have to fend off other admirers."

you laugh and poke his arm

"must be so hard having a beautiful partner, huh?"

huffs playfully and kisses your forehead

luke browning | hitech —> f2

he was joking around with his friends when one of them made an innocent cute comment about your looks

“i know, right? they make me look better just standing next to me”

tries to divert the attention from you

on the outside he seems quite normal, but inside he’s seething with jealousy

like, why would anyone feel the need to point out the obvious???

sneaks his arm around your waist

peppers your face with kisses when you have a little time alone

franco colapinto | mp —> williams racing

whatever the circumstances, he goes into full yapping mode

franco takes seizes every opportunity to brag about who he managed to pull

"right!! you see, mom, they bake the best cookies. one time, when we were in madrid, we ate those cinnamon buns i like so much and..."

he just wants everyone to know you're the best person he's ever had the privilege to meet

he wants to share all the best memories with his family! and has no filter

"no, sis, we weren’t drunk that much… oh, you’re totally right amor, we were, sorry”

the compliments are flowing from both sides, its very natural and franqui doesn’t get worked up at all

masterlist

[revelboo]

Greetings, could we please get more of "My Favorite Accident"?

I really love this fanfic!!!

Sure!

My Favorite Accident Pt 6

TFP Knockout x Reader

• “You’re scaring off the business.” Scowling at you as you wash glasses, you just arch your brows at him. And yeah, he has a point with that look. The guy that had been hurling in a bush when you’d arrived had wandered inside and fell asleep, head on the bar, his toupee long since in the floor, looking like a dead squirrel. And he’s the only holdout, your two other drunks having wandered back home. Or at least somewhere else. For all you know, they’re passed out outside in the gravel, but as long as they’re outside, they’re not your problem.

• “I keep waiting for you to explain the joke,” he mutters, his patience slowly fraying watching you go about your ‘job.’ Because at this point, he’s more angry than anything else. And this has to be a joke, one that’s already run far too long. It’s insulting that you work here. Part of him wanted to just leave you here to figure out your own way home, but he’d stayed out of morbid curiosity and because, after defending you from being groped three times, he’d realized you’re too oblivious to survive without someone watching over you. Feeling someone pinging him, he growls.

• “Bills are no joke,” you say, banging a glass on the bar hard enough that the remaining patron nearly falls off his stool when he startles awake. “Last call.” Tone all saccharine sweetness as he blearily looks around and then struggles to get down and get to the door, legs spread like a man trying to keep his footing on a heaving deck in rough waters. He’s definitely going to go water those poor, dead azaleas again, chunky style. “So, mind explaining why you camped at my home and then stayed here all day? I’m assuming you have some important, secret alien robot agenda. You know, something better to do than slum it with me?”

• “You have no idea,” he grumbles, hesitating as that ping comes again. Dividing his attention between the holomatter avatar and his real body, he hears your disgruntled ‘are you kidding me right now’ as the avatar gets glitchy. And half listening to your tantrum, he answers the ping. “Where are you? Megatron’s hunting for you,” Breakdown’s voice growls at him and he shifts on his shocks. Because if the big boss is on the warpath and needs something, he can’t be kept waiting. Or he’ll take it out on his hide with his big fists.

• Watching him have a conversation with himself, that weird, expressionless avatar staring with dead eyes at nothing. Creepy. Still can’t figure out why he’d hung out with you when he really must have better things to do. You don’t think it’s that he’s lonely. Only that he’s decided you need him to watch after you, though how he’d reached that conclusion, you’re not sure. You’ve done fine on your own for years. You’ll be fine after he gets bored of messing with you.

• “Stall,” he says. “I’m coming.” Aware that he and the avatar are both saying the words when you lean away from him, frowning and he ends the communication. “Sorry, but you’re going to have to find a different ride home. Try not to die while I’m gone,” he adds, glancing around to make sure there’s only the two of you in the bar before letting go of the avatar, hearing you screech about security cameras before he goes. You’ll be fine. After he pacifies Lord Megatron, he can come back. Make sure.

Previous

[shiny-jr]

Dear author, I’m so sorry that someone plagiarised your work especially since you work so hard on your stories 💔😞

We want to help the plagiarised book get taken down so can you please share the link?

If enough people report, the fanfiction site admins will finally listen and take down the plagiarised book, instead of the plagiarism claim being buried.

I hope this issue gets resolved quickly and I hope you have a better day.

UPDATE! Based on this and that and also this.

Thank you, anon. I appreciate your words, but as I stated in one of my previous posts, Wattpad reports are finicky. I believe at this point, we're at day thirteen of dealing with this plagiarizer and day four of it being public and yet despite it all, the plagiarizer has still yet to budge.

So, I thought I'd give another update and give the information we discovered in our findings. As to what we know is copied and from who. Keep in mind, one of these four copies stories has already been taken down and done with. I'll specify which in a moment.

Before I proceed, if you happen to be one of the original writers mentioned in this post and you want your portion removed from this post for whatever reason, let me know. I do not want to upset anyone, except the plagiarizer. At this point in time, I care little for their feelings on the matter when they've had plenty of time to make things right.

The plagiarizer: Kristynaka1

FIRST.

Obviously, the first story that was discovered was mine, with all the information linked in the posts at the very top. I was made aware of this by the inbox from a kind reader. Ever since then, I've been dealing with this plagiarizer.

My mutuals and I found it weird that somehow, the plagiarizer had relatively good grammar with few mistakes in the story. Yet every little note or message they sent, had many spelling mistakes and was sometimes difficult to read. It was inconsistent and strange, and we couldn't make sense of it until we had a theory which some readers in the comments here have already suggested. We theorize that the plagiarizer began to use AI.

Of course, we can't prove this but how else would a user who can't format and type proper messages be able to write whole paragraphs that are actually legible and understandable?

ChatGPT was available to the public sometime in 2022. Before 2022, many of their "stories" were copy and pastes from Tumblr. After 2022, there were differences in the copied stories that made it harder to find the original story and connect it to the original writer. Differences in writing that I doubt the plagiarizer wrote themselves if we go by their messages like:

So yeah. Onto the evidence.

SECOND.

After a few days, one of my mutuals began to suggest searching for the origins of other stories as they doubted any of the posts belonged to the plagiarizer. Low and behold, we found three others. The first of which belonged to @monst and their post. Just by comparing the first paragraph was enough to confirm that.

I won't go into too much detail as the links pretty much say all you need when you actually look at the evidence.

THIRD.

Not even an hour later, we found the second copied story from that oneshot book. Thankfully, there were only two stories there, so there aren't any more copied parts from that series they claim is theirs. The original is @ppsycho and their post. This one again looks like a direct copy, even the image is the same.

FOURTH.

This is the one that was already deleted, thankfully. So there is not many good screenshots I can present, except one before it was gone. So the original writer is @mint-yooxgi and their post.

Here is the only screenshot I have of the wattpad version, just to showcase that it did in fact exist, and it was copied.

So yeah, that's everything for now. If you check out the plagiarizer's profile and recognize the other stories I did not name, please let me know. We thought we found one of them on Quotev, but it wasn't.

Please continue commenting discouragements and reporting the account!

I think I'll leave this off with something I typed last night in a chat:

In whatever way this ends, know that it will end badly for the plagiarizer. They can choose to ignore, but that won't make everything go away. People will remember, I will remember. If they go radio silent and try to forget everything but keep the stories up, comments will still be there. If they try to delete the comments, new comments will just be made. The comments will serve as warnings to others that might stumble across their account, and it will immediately make them click off the account or story because no one wants to read a plagiarized story. The account we see now will just be empty of real readers, so it will remain a miserable little place where each comment will serve as a reminder as to why plagiarism is bad.

Even if they do decide to delete and make another account yet again, whether they decide to copy the same stories they did before or pick entirely new writers to prey upon, it doesn't matter. Readers will either recognize them from before or new readers will notice the plagiarism taking place. It doesn't matter what they do. They will be found and dealt with in some way, shape, or form.

I hope those two or so years of small internet fame were worth it while they lasted.

[zaine-m]

first responders arcane AU.

they get a call about a man about to jump off a bridge.

The paramedics arrived first Viktor immediately gets on the ledge with him and tries to talk to him about his mental state. Jayce is shitting his pants with fear, what if Viktor falls, what if this guy pushes Viktor off. The rest of the first responders don't know what to do and are just preparing possible rescue if he jumps but he gets mad when anyone else tries to come close.

After a bit of talking the man still decides he wants to die and Viktor offers his hand saying "you wouldn't want to die alone, would you?". Jayce is running in circles trying to find something to do to stop this.

The man looks at Viktor and asks "why would you do that?", "nobody should be forced to go through these troubles alone". He finally turns around and begins to climb back onto the bridge.

Jayce runs to Viktor full sprint and lifts him over the railing, "oh my god, never do that again. There are procedures. You could have died", "eh, this method has never failed me before" "...what do you mean before?"

Jayce finds Viktor later that night smoking, "you shouldn't be doing that, you know with your lungs and all"

"eh cancer would take at least 5 years to develop then another year for it to kill me and by that time... I'd already be gone"

Jayce pauses and looks deep into Viktor's eyes, staring off into the night.

Viktor continues "I... yeah... don't tell Heimderdinger. He only let me take this job because I told him my health was improving"

"god, I'm so sorry. I had no idea"

Viktor puts out the cigarette on the pavement "no point ruining your lungs too... I wasn't worried today because I knew it didn't matter. I die on some bridge or I die in a hospital, either way i died without making any impact on this world, nothing for people to remember me by"

"Viktor, what you do every day matters. All those people will remember you"

"I spend half of my time assessing colds and checking in on old people"

"And the other half you spend being there for people on their worst days. They might not remember your name but they'll remember seeing your face and knowing that someone was fighting for them to live. And I'll... I'll make sure your name is remembered" Jayce places a hand on Viktor's cheek, "I'll never forget your name Viktor"

"Thank you, Jayce" Viktor closes his eyes softly as he sees Jayce begin to lean into his face. The kiss they share is soft and gentle in a way that makes Viktor forget the dread of his diagnosis and want to stay in that moment forever

[starkeynation]

I love you, I’m sorry

A letter from reader to Rafe

Content: Angst, like PURE sad, the lamp looks weird, based on the song I love you, I’m sorry by Gracie Abrams (may or may not be accurate)

A/N: about that cliffhanger and happy ending, I changed my mind… also ignore any writing mistakes if there’s any and this was kinda rushed so I hope it still turns out good

Masterlist

dividers from @anitalenia

Rafe,

It is Saturday night. I should be out doing something, partying or whatever to enjoy myself, yet here i am, pen in hand, finding myself writing to you again. I know this letter will never reach you- it’ll end up crumpled at the bottom of my drawer or burned to ashes. Still, I can’t seem to stop myself.

It has been exactly two august ago since everything fell apart. I remember the way I laid it all out, raw, I wanted to be real, hoping that honesty would mend us. We weren’t perfect. Hell, we were far from it. We fought like fire and gasoline, burning everything we touched. Jealousy leads us to mistrust each other but even then, I didn’t think it would end the way it did. I never thought that fight would be the last..the final, devastating blow before you ghosted me and blocked me everywhere.

I swear it wasn’t my intention to break up with you, I thought by exposing the cracks, we could patch them together. Instead, the truth just ended up pushing you away. When you drove off in your Benz and left me standing at my gate, it felt like everything had stopped. The time, the world, my heart…everything froze. I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to scream, I wanted to stop you, beg you to stay, to tell you that we could still save us but you didn’t look back, and i was too late.

Now, i watch you from a distance as you become successful, helping your dad doing business, running Cameron’s development like you were born to do it. I heard your name whispered in admiration at the club where I work, how you charm people the way you trained for. And you know what? I’m so so proud of you Rafe. I always knew you had it in you. I’ll be rooting for you always, even from the shadows.

Maybe two summers from now we’ll be talking again at some point, exchange smiles, our lives untangled and we’re cool again. I can picture you’ll be in your family’s jet, travelling, and me, on my boat moving on with our own lives. By then, i hope..im actually ready to move on. I know you’ve already moved on- I mean, why wouldn’t you? Still, there’s part of me wish that you wouldn’t yet, and maybe, just maybe, you would take me back.

But that’s just selfish isn’t it? I was selfish when we were together too. I made everything about me, i was inconsiderate, I turn something small into raging battles. I didn’t listen, didn’t see you for who you were. I’m ashamed of the person I was, of the mistakes I made. After everything i did, I’m surprised you haven’t send someone to kill me yet.

Lately I find myself sitting on the porch, watching sunsets like we used to, with a glass of something strong in my hand. I laugh at myself, at the crash I made, because what else can I do? It’s a twisted kind of coping—laughing at my own heartbreak. It doesn’t feel real and it’s really hard to let go but i guess that’s just the way life goes.

I know i was a dick, Rafe. I had too many flaws to count but as sick as it sounds, I loved you first. You’ll always be my first love. You were the best and the worst thing that ever happened to me, a storm that left me shattered but alive. Your love had impact me deeply, it is carved in my soul. No matter where we are, i want you to know that I’ll carry the past and the weight of my mistakes with me. Trust me, it will always, haunt me.

I regret every second for not treating you well, for not being the person you needed. Lastly, i want you to know that I still, truly, deeply, love you, I’m sorry.

*Ding* you heard the bell rings. You rush downstairs to answer the door.

“Pizza delivery”, says the delivery boy standing in front of you. You almost forgot you ordered one, an hour ago. You take your prepaid alfredo chicken pizza and thank him. It was Rafe’s favourite pizza, you’re not sure if it’s still his favourite though. After shutting the door, you walk to your kitchen.

Just two seconds later, *ding* the bell rings again. Did the delivery boy forget anything? You thought.

You open the door, “yes-“ you pause. You couldn’t believe it, standing right in front of you,

“Topper?”

“Topper what are you doing here?” you ask, your voice laced with confusion.

He then steps aside and reveals a man behind him, lying on the steps of your porch- a man whose silhouette you’d recognize anywhere. “Rafe,” you whisper.

“Shit I’m sorry to bother you but this dumbass got into an accident for driving while he’s high,” Topper blurts out, panickly.

Your brow furrowing and your confusion deepens. You walk closer to Rafe and spot the blood dripping from his head, “Accident? What? Then why do you bring him here instead of the hospital?” You ask, your voice sharp, slicing through the chaos of the moment.

“He won’t let me. He insisted I bring him here to see you,” Topper explains.

“Y/n,” Rafe speaks up, his voice low and strained.

Your heart skips a beat. It’s like the universe has stopped spinning again. This is the first time you hear him calling your name after two whole years.

“Hey Rafe, you’re bleeding,” you say, your voice mix with feelings.

“I’m fine,” he says, giving a soft, disarming smile while trying to sit up.

You instruct Topper to go find some cloth to stop the bleeding. As he dissapears, you sit on your knees facing to Rafe, “Rafe, what happened? Why are you here?” you ask, still have no clue of what’s going on here.

“I wanted to see you,” he replies, putting on that damn smile again, the one that’s always managed to unravel you. “I miss you, y/n.”

Your face goes pale, your eyes widens, the words hang in the hair, heavy and unexpected. “Rafe, you’re drunk,” you accuse, trying to make sense of what’s happening right now.

“No, I’m not, i swear I’m very conscious right now,” he insists, his voice firm. You’re still not sure if he’s telling the truth or not. “I really miss you, y/n,” he continues, his voice low but still clear for you to hear it.

Your heart aches, torn between disbelief and the undeniable pull of his words. “How hard did you hit your head? God, you’re still bleeding. We need to see a doctor,” you say, trying to stand up, but he grabs your hand, pulling you back down.

“Stop it, I’m fine i swear…this is nothing,” he says waving off the concern. Just then, Topper returns with a towel in his hand. He hands the towel to you and says, “dude, are you sure you’re okay? When i saw your car there were smokes everywhere. Looks like you hit that tree pretty hard,” his voice fill with concern.

“I’m fine Top, just go. I need to talk to y/n,” Rafe says with a dismissive wave. Topper hesitates, he looks at you for confirmation as if you’re the one in charge here. You nod at him, signalling an approval, “s’okay Top i can handle this.”

“Okay, just call me if anything happens,” he says. “Thank you,” you mutter softly to Topper as he’s leaving towards his car.

With Topper gone, you shift your focus back to Rafe. You take the towel and start dabbing on the blood on his forehead, “we still need to get this stitched up,” you say. Rafe then grabs your wrist, his grip firm but not forceful, “look at me,” he demands.

You look at him straight in the eyes, drowning in his blue eyes. It’s overwhelming- staring at the man that you love but no longer yours.

“I do mean what i said, i miss you y/n and i wanted to see you,” he says, his tone steady and sure.

“But why now?” You ask, your voice breaking under the weight of the question.

“Sar..Sarah told me tonight that you’ve been writing letters about me. She found them stashed under your bed,” he says, hesitantly.

Your stomach drops and you shake your head in disbelief, “God…i knew it there was something wrong. She was acting so weird when she left this morning,” you mutter.

“So it’s true? You’ve been writing about me?”

Your face is turning red, you’re struggling to find the words. “I- yes…I’ve been writing letters. Pretending like I’m gonna send it to you but i never do,” you stutter.

“Why didn’t you just send them?” He presses, his voice low, almost pleading.

“You know why Rafe…you’ve moved on. You blocked me few months after we broke up. You’re thriving now with your job, you got your whole life together, and I- I was the reason why we broke up. I can’t just crawl my way back into your life like nothing happened,” you shatter, your voice breaking as you’re struggling to control your tears.

Rafe shakes his head. He brushes his thumb over your knuckles and kisses it. “You’re wrong y/n, you’re absolutely wrong. I’ve been doing nothing over the past two years except than trying to forget about you. That’s why I’ve been doing all these jobs, thinking it could distract me, but no,” he shakes his head again. “Nothing could make me stop thinking about you.”

His confession leaves you breathless, your tears streaming down your face as he continues. “About the blocking and disappearing, I’m really sorry, I was a coward. The truth is, that day i came to your house to apologize. Then, as I stood outside, i saw you were laughing with jj through your window. I knew you guys were not together cause after jj left, I may or may not have confronted him…” he then mouthed sorry. “But then, I remember the way you looked so happy when you’re with him. At that time, I knew I had to let you go cause you deserve someone better and you deserve to be happy so that’s why I blocked you..as if that makes any difference.”

You idiot,” you scoff. “I never wanted anyone else, only you Rafe, only you. You’re the only one who could truly make me happy.”

His eyes glisten, his smile soft and hesitant. “Please forgive me y/n, I swear I’m a better person now and I love- I love you, so much. I still do.”

You reach up, caress his cheek and pull him in for a kiss. “I love you too Rafe,” you whisper. He cups your face and returns the kiss. The kiss is passionate, slow and tender. His lip is so soft and only god knows how much you miss this. The world fades around you, leaving only the two of you, two broken pieces finding their way back to each other.

You pull away from his face and let out a giggle. “Why are you laughing?” He asks, can’t help but let out a soft giggle too.

“Before you came I was actually writing another letter for you,” you admit, a shy smile appears on your face.

“Oh really? Tell me about it baby,” he smirks. Your smile widens at the sound of the nickname that rolls out from his mouth. “Mm I miss that. You, calling me baby. Anyways, it’s in my room, wanna come in?” You ask.

He shakes his head, pulling you closer as he leans back against the stairs railing. “Hmm in a bit sweetheart, you can tell me here while we stargaze. I missed your porch- and mostly you, of course,” he replies with a faint smile.

So you do. You talk to him about the letter while your head rest on his shoulder and your fingers intertwined. “Lastly I wrote, I love you, I’m sorry,” you say, explaining the last content of the letter. But then, you realise he has gone quiet. His stillness unsettling. You glance up to him, “Rafe?” He’s not responding. You check his pulse but there is none. Panic sets in as you shake him, calling his name.

“Rafe”

“Rafe, wake up”

“Wake up!”

“Wake up!”

“Y/n”

“Y/n”

“Y/n, wake up”

You gasp, your heart is pounding like a drum. You’re sweating all over your body as reality crashes down. It was a nightmare.

“Hey..baby you okay?” You turn your head to your right and realise it’s Rafe. He’s okay, he’s alive and he’s sitting on the bed next to you. Relief floods through you like a tidal wave.

“Is it the nightmare again?” He asks. You nod, signalling him that he’s right.

“It’s okay baby I got you. Here, come back to sleep,” he says, gently pulling you into his arms. You smile and cuddle him, clinging to the illusion of safety his embrace provides. You close your eyes again trying to fall back to sleep till your alarm suddenly rings.

You wake up with a tear running down your cheek. You hit the snooze button and realise that was a dream and this time, it’s the true reality. You look to the other side of your bed, it’s empty. It always has been for quite a while now. The truth is, that night after Rafe collapsed, you called for an ambulance. On the way to the hospital, they try everything to make his heart beat again, but nothing works. It was too late. He had lost too many blood before that you weren’t aware of and that same night, Rafe had died in your arms.

It’s been 3 years since the tragic. You keep having the same dream almost every night. Part of you is grateful that you and Rafe had ended in good terms but another part of you knows that the truth is you’ll never get the chance to redeem yourself and be a better partner. There’s nothing remaining other than the memories that will haunt you forever.

Rafe, if you’re hearing this, I love you, I’m sorry.

Like and reblog if you want to kys after reading this😇☺️

[avelanlorelay]

Sorry to bother with questions but do we ever find out where Cardan was when he didn't return to bed with Jude those few nights? As he seemed to be avoiding the question when she asked. Was he with someone else?

Questions never bother me, I love to talk! I assume you're talking about that TQOF scene after Jude's presentation banquet. Feel free to disagree with me, but I think that to think that Cardan is just a womanizing boy is not to understand even half of his personality, especially when (I've already posted about this) he's the most sensitive character in the series.

In my view, it's implied in the book that Cardan's vice is drink, not sex. I'm not saying that he's a pure boy who didn't like taking part in orgies, but there are some points that show that it wasn't his priority. For example: Cardan isn't seen making dirty jokes or analyzing women's bodies like Valerian (except with Jude). He never had two lovers at the same time like Locke and Nicasia (I'm not saying that the intention of these two was just sex, but obviously there was a lot of desire for Jude on Locke's part and for Locke on Nicasia's part too).

And the main point for me, is that we see in TWK, when Jude invades Cardan's chambers at Balekin's behest, he is completely alone in bed, that is, at a time when he is worried about Jude and the situation of the kingdom is delicate, he doesn't have time to think about sex or anything like that, so to think that Cardan is still the same boy who only thinks about the pleasures of life and hasn't matured is to ignore his evident change in the second book. It's clear that in important situations, such as when the Crown of Blood is at stake, he no longer maintains the behavior of enjoying himself like a member of the circle of grackles.

It's not exactly proof, but on the same night that Jude breaks into his rooms, he confesses that Balekin forced him to take part in orgies, meaning that his perverted behavior was practically forced on him by his brother. It's no wonder that when he met a girl he liked, Cardan immediately committed himself to an engagement. And here, we all have to agree because it's obvious that he was always faithful in his commitment to Nicasia, their relationship was totally monogamous, otherwise he wouldn't have been so heartbroken by her betrayal.

Which brings me to the conclusion of your question: Cardan was faithful to Nicasia because he loved her and the two of them were engaged, in other words, they had a solid commitment. And he remained faithful to her until the engagement was broken. Cardan respects commitments, he has many faults but he is one of the few loyal characters in the books. So, throughout TQON Cardan and Jude had a real commitment, they were married by fairy law. Whether the marriage was consummated or not, I believe that he remained completely faithful to her. 1- Because he loved Jude and was completely fall with her.

2- Out of respect for their legitimate marriage.

3- Because he was too busy worrying about Jude's exile, her whereabouts after Madoc's invasion, her health and, most importantly, how to win her love. He wouldn't let himself be carried away by frivolous desires, especially when his greatest desire was her. I believe that when Jude asked where he was, Cardan didn't imagine that she might be jealous, so he answered without bothering to give details. Even when Jude expresses her feelings in words, he is still unsure and in doubt. Perhaps he was too embarrassed to say where he stood, or he was just a little slow to be objective. Someone here on tumblr already commented that he was probably in the Court of Shadows and I totally agree. And I would add that he probably spent nights drinking, playing cards and worrying about Jude's recovery and how to win her heart.

I think that sometimes, like Jude, we overcomplicate Cardan's thoughts and intentions, when in fact he is simple and even naive in his actions lol. Sorry for the long text, I hope I've answered your question 💗

[deezee112]

The worst ending 6 : The Lion’s Lament

The worst ending 5 | The worst ending 7

Yandere!Leona Kingscholar x GN!Reader

A/N : I'm starting to feel sorry for them. I mean, y/n, you've been dying in every route. Bear with it a little longer, there's only 21 rounds left.

Warning : possessiveness , obsession , and emotional manipulation. , Depictions of toxic relationships and controlling dynamics. ,Themes of death , grief , and emotional distress. , Scenes that may be unsettling or triggering

Tags :

@iris-arcadia

If you want me to tag you please tell me.

English is not my first language.

“ Well. ” you muttered to youself as the boy sat up, his amber eyes green with intelligence. “ This is going to be... interesting. ”

The boy stretched languidly, his sharp teeth peeking as he yawned. He gave you a slow, assessing glance, as if judging you worth.

“ I’ll name you Leona. ” you decided.

He tilted his head slightly, but said nothing.

“ cool. ” you muttered, crossing your arms. “ You look like trouble already. ”

Raising Leona wasn’t easy.

From the start, he showed signs of stubbornness and pride, as if he were born believing he was king of the world. He would ignore you calls, sulk for hours when reprimanded, and refuse to admit when he was wrong. But for all his arrogance, there was something endearing about him.

He was fiercely protective. When you burned your hand on the stove, he hissed at the pot as if it had personally offended him. When you worked late into the night, he’d drag a blanket over your shoulders, muttering, “ Don’t catch a cold, idiot. ”

Still, there were moments you could barely tolerate his antics.

One night, You woke to find your chest feeling unusually heavy. Groggily, you opened your eyes to see Leona sprawled across your body, his head resting on your stomach, his tail lazily flicking.

“ Leona. ” you groaned, trying to push him off. “ Get off me! ”

“ Meow. ” he replied, deadpan, refusing to budge.

“ Don’t ‘meow’ me! You’re not a cat! ”

“ Could’ve fooled me. ” he muttered, eyes still closed.

“ Leona! ”

He finally rolled off you with a dramatic sigh, flopping onto the bed beside you. “ You’re so uptight. You should be honored I chose you as my pillow. ”

“ Honored, my— ” you cut yourself off, glaring at him as he smirked smugly. “ Just go to your room! ”

“ Nah, too far. ” he replied, closing his eyes again. “ Night, herbivore. ”

Despite your irritation, you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. He could be insufferable, but moments like this made you feel... less alone.

As Leona grew older, his attachment to you deepened, but so did his jealousy.

He despised seeing you interact with others, especially men. The few times someone came to visit you, Leona would sulk in the corner, glaring daggers until they left.

“ Leona, what’s your problem? ” you asked one day after a particularly tense encounter.

He shrugged, not meeting you eyes. “ I don’t like them. ”

“ You don’t even know them. ” you pointed out.

“ Don’t need to. ” he replied, his tone clipped.

“ Leona— ” you began, but he cut her off.

“ They’re not good enough for you. ” he said firmly, his green eyes meeting you with startling intensity. “ No one is. ”

You sighed, ruffling his hair. “ You need to work on that temper of yours. ”

But Leona didn’t see it as a temper. To him, it was justice. No one else deserved you time, you attention—you affection.

The day everything fell apart was supposed to be ordinary.

You had gone out to a local gathering, leaving Leona at home. He had asked to come with you, but you insisted he stay. “ It’s just a few hours. ” you said. “ You’ll survive. ”

But he didn’t feel like he could.

Every minute you was gone felt like an eternity. The thought of you laughing, smiling with strangers, made his blood boil. By the time you returned, he was pacing the living room, his tail swishing furiously.

“ Leona, what are you doing? ” you asked, frowning.

“ Where were you? ” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

“ I told you, I went to a gathering. ” you replied, setting down you bag.

“ With who? ”

“ Does it matter? ”

“ Yes, it does! ” he snapped, his voice rising.

You stared at him, taken aback. “ Leona, you’re acting ridiculous. ”

“ Am I? ” he growled, stepping closer. “ You just leave me here, alone, while you go off and— ”

“ Enough! ” you interrupted, you tone sharp. “ I am not going to justify myself to you. You’re not a child anymore, Leona. You need to grow up. ”

His claws extended involuntarily, his anger bubbling over. “ You don’t get it, do you? You’re all I have! ”

“ And that’s the problem! ” you shot back. “ You can’t keep clinging to me like this. It’s not healthy, Leona! ”

The words cut deeper than any blade. For a moment, he froze, staring at you as if you had just betrayed him.

And then he snapped.

Leona’s claws swiped out before he could stop himself. The force of his strike sent you stumbling back, you hand clutching your side where his claws had torn through you shirt and skin.

Blood seeped through your fingers as you stared at him in shock.

He took a step back, his green eyes wide with horror. “ I... I didn’t mean to— ”

You collapsed to the floor, you breaths shallow. He dropped to his knees beside you, desperately pressing his hands against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

“ Don’t die. ” he whispered, his voice trembling. “ Please, don’t die. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t— ”

You hand reached up, weakly brushing against his cheek. “ Leona... ” you murmured, you lips curving into a faint, forgiving smile. “ It’s okay. ”

But it wasn’t okay.

You hand fell limp, your eyes closing as your body went still.

Leona sat beside you grave, his head bowed, his hands trembling.

“ I killed you. ” he whispered, his voice raw with guilt. “ You were the only one who ever cared about me, and I killed you. ”

The wind rustled the leaves above him, but no answer came.

For the rest of his days, Leona carried the weight of his actions, haunted by the memory of the one person he had loved—and destroyed.

In the end, he was a king without a kingdom, a lion without a pride.

And it was all his fault.

[clarkeyhill]

English Love Affair |George Clarke

Smut. Fluff

The second day in London had been a whirlwind of sights, sounds, and the kind of quiet exhaustion that comes from trying to soak up a new city in a short time. By the evening, though, I felt rejuvenated—excited, even. Max and Andrew had invited me to a bar, promising good drinks, great company, and a chance to unwind. It sounded perfect.

When I arrived, the bar was already buzzing, its dim lighting and low hum of conversation wrapping around me like a warm blanket. Max waved me over enthusiastically, Andrew grinning beside him. With them was—George.

He stood out immediately, not just because of his dark, fitted jacket or the way he seemed to command attention without trying. It was his aura. There was a quiet openness to him, like he was unafraid of being seen for who he was, yet something about him remained distant, guarded. His voice carried a calm dominance, each word weighted with intent.

We exchanged introductions, and he gave me a small, knowing smile that sent a jolt through me. It wasn’t flirtatious, not exactly. It was something else entirely, something I couldn’t quite place.

The first round of cocktails came quickly, and we fell into easy conversation. Max and Andrew were their usual lively selves, recounting old stories and poking fun at each other. George was quieter but sharp, his occasional interjections landing with precision. He seemed content to let the others talk, his eyes lingering on me more often than not.

As the night progressed, the drinks flowed, and so did the laughter. But somewhere along the line, George’s demeanor shifted. His laid-back calm gave way to something more intense, more present. When I stood to go to the bar for another drink, he was suddenly beside me.

“I’ll get it,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I blinked at him, taken aback. “Oh, it’s fine, really. I can—”

“I insist,” he said, and there it was again—that sense of quiet dominance. Before I could protest further, he was placing the order, his body angled just slightly between me and the rest of the bar.

When we returned to the table, I noticed it wasn’t just me who had picked up on the shift. Max raised an eyebrow at George as he slid my drink in front of me. Andrew exchanged a look with him that was part confusion, part concern.

The moments that followed only heightened their curiosity. George seemed hyper-aware of my every move, his eyes scanning the room whenever someone got too close or lingered too long. At one point, a man bumped into me on his way to the bar, and before I could even react, George stepped in, his tone cold and clipped as he told the man to watch where he was going.

Max and Andrew weren’t subtle about their skepticism.

“Alright, George, what’s the deal?” Max asked, leaning back in his chair. “You’ve known her for what? Not even 24hours whats with the whole bodyguard act?"

Andrew nodded, his gaze flicking between George and me. “Yeah, mate, it’s a bit much. You’re acting like she's your… I don’t know, responsibility or something.”

George’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might brush it off. But then he looked at me, his eyes softer now, almost apologetic.

“I’m sorry if I’m coming on too strong,” he said, his voice low. “I just… I don’t like the idea of anything happening to you. London can be unpredictable.”

It was a strange answer, vague yet loaded. Max and Andrew still didn’t seem convinced, exchanging another look. I felt their concern, but I also couldn’t ignore the strange pull I felt toward George.

He was acting like he had some claim over me, and while a part of me bristled at the notion, another part—one I wasn’t ready to examine too closely—didn’t entirely mind. There was something undeniably magnetic about him, something that made me feel both protected and exposed in ways I hadn’t expected.

As the night wore on, Max and Andrew continued to watch him carefully, their protectiveness of me now matching his. And George, for all his guarded nature, seemed almost… possessive. It was disarming, intoxicating, and confusing all at once.

When we finally stepped out into the cool London air, George offered to walk me back to my hotel. Max and Andrew hesitated. But I found myself agreeing, curiosity and something deeper urging me to see where this strange night might lead.

As we walked, the city quiet around us, George’s earlier intensity seemed to fade. He spoke more freely now, his voice gentler, though still carrying that undercurrent of control.

“Tonight… I might’ve overstepped,” he admitted, glancing at me. “But there’s something about you. I don’t know what it is yet, but it’s there.”

I didn’t know what to say. His words were bold, startling, and yet they resonated in a way I couldn’t deny.

The night had started as a simple outing with friends, but it had turned into something else entirely—something charged, unexpected, and impossible to forget. As I reached the door of my hotel, I couldn’t help but wonder what the rest of my time in London would bring—and whether George would be part of it.

[moirasdolly]

I don’t want to be a greedy bastard but if at some point you feel inspired to write more mtf!JQ I would 👹❤️😩💀👹🎀🥹😩❤️👹🎀👹👹🩷🎀🩷🫵😚😩👹🎀🩷

Junker Queen with a Housewife Reader ˖ ࣪ 𝇋♡︎𝇌 ׂ

Contains: NSFW (men and minors dni), fem reader, trans jq, fucking on the kitchen counter, reader is wearing a frilly apron, jq is kind of rough

Listening to ♪ ིྀ: Stargirl Interlude - The Weeknd and Lana Del Rey

Notes: It’s been TOOOOO LONG since this request i’m sorry I’m just barely getting to it T^T, I hope these hcs suffice though !! I love my buff wife

• Your wife had been coming home stressed everyday, and as much as she claimed your presence alone helped her, you wanted to do something extra… special for her.

• Ever the sweet, kind hearted, angel you were, you decided to doll yourself up for her. Going all out you were adorned in a little, pink, frilly apron and matching lacy panties that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. A velvet choker wrapped around your neck snuggly and thin ribbons decorated your hair. Your long lashes framed your pretty doe eyes that absolutely drove Dez insane when you looked up at her towering form. And your favorite part (hers too) were the thighs highs being held up by snug garters.

• She adored you anyway you looked, but she couldn’t deny that she loved when you got all done up for her.

• You were at home cooking her favorite meal for her when she had finally returned. A slam of the front door, and the sound of her heavy boots echoing down the hallway rang in your ears before you heard her stop in her tracks.

• You hummed softly as you continued your cooking, not bothering to shoot her a glance to rile her up. Dez was too predictable because not even 5 seconds later, she was pressed against your backside, clearly personal space was something she did not get the concept of (not that you cared.)

• “Hi, Dez.” You finally tossed her a look over your shoulder, pressing a sweet little kiss to the apple of her cheek. Instead of an answer back, her hands trailed to your hips, holding you snuggly. A gasp escaped those pretty lips of yours when you felt her bulge pressing against you. “Someone’s needy today…” You teased with a smile.

• She cursed at the sound of your honey-toned voice, “Fuck, darlin’. You’re killin’ me here.”

• You were trying sooooo hard to keep it together while you prepared dinner, but your wife’s hands were just holding you so tightly, almost with bruising strength. And she was grinding her hips into you so temptingly. Those grunts being pulled out of her throat were just too distracting for you to think about anything else.

• The tell-tale sound of her belt unbuckling and fabric hitting the floor made you bite your lip in anticipation. You wanted to buck your hips back, eager to feel her, but you steadied yourself in anticipation. Instead, you felt Dez’s length slide between your thighs. With a heavy hand she smacked your ass, “Squeeze ‘em, doll.” Obedient as ever, you pressed your thighs together, leaning over the counter to expose yourself for her.

• Her cock was already slick with her arousal as she fucked your thighs, using you to her own liking. Her pace was brutal from the start and she didn’t plan on slowing either. The friction on your clit was barely there and you were whining Dez’s ears off about it. So she took matters into her own hands. Literally. She shoved her middle and index finger into your mouth, shutting you up effectively. “That’s more like it.” She muttered, using your thighs together get off.

• “Gonna cum between those thighs of yours…” She rasped out, grunting in your ears as she painted the inside of your thighs and the kitchen cabinet with her release.

• Her hips stilled and her fingers slid from your mouth with a string of saliva connecting them together. You knew she wasn’t done with you though. Her hand trailed up your body before settling in your hair, grabbing a fist full of it and pulling your head back. “Beg for me.”

• Your brain was already mush, you had no problem begging and pleading for your wife to absolutely destroy you, and to your delight, she had no problem complying.

• She gave you no time to prepare before sliding into your inviting cunt, cursing loudly as she did so. Her grip on your hair didn’t falter either, if anything she pulled you closer. Her free hand pressed against your stomach as she fucked you into the counter.

• Dirty, lewd words were growled into your ear as she fucked you dumb. She was absolutely relentless, but you loved it. Wet squelches, deep grunts, and your high pitched whines were the only noises to be heard and Dez was absolutely eating it up.

• She was hell bent on making you cum without touching your clit, and you were quickly approaching your release.

• With a few final thrusts, your body shook with pleasure, your knees almost buckling beneath you. If Dez wasn’t holding you so tightly, you would have fallen. Not too long after Dez came, releasing into you.

• She slumped forward, her body eclipsing your own. “My pretty baby, ya did so well.” She spoke after a moment, untangling her haha from your hair. When she pulled out you pouted at the empty feeling she left.

• She let one of her hands knead your ass softly before giving you one last smack. You whimpered softly as you felt Dez’s cum dripping down your thighs as you struggled to stand up.

• Your wife scooped you into her arms, peppering your face with soft kisses. It was a 180 from how she was handling you just moments before, but you knew your wife adored you and you loved the soft moments between you two.

• “Let’s get ya cleaned up, baby.”

• Let’s just say once the stove was turned off, whatever you were cooking was forgotten. Dez would rather eat something else for dinner.

[kat1nkulta]

Hi i’m reaching soo hard but.

It’s not a 1-1 match, moreso about the habits? Nervous arm clutch, leaning forward when mad, clasping hands a lot, the smug side lean. Loop shares the most similarities with Siffrin, but I like to think they picked up some habits from the party too (after all they had a looong time to memorize those😁)

[erythroniumlily]

Until I am proven otherwise, I’m choosing to believe that Huzzle Mug is the one who created the Megapon for King <3

The word “huzzlajig” from Cap’n Hauzer really stood out to me upon replaying the demo, and upon closer inspection, I realized that the Megapon is actually pretty Huzzle-shaped!

I don’t think it’s super far-fetched to believe the god of innovation had its hands in creating something as interesting and wacky in-concept as the Megapon :-)

[torahtot]

you can always tell when someone doesn't have maga men in their life and god it makes me angry.. "if you're nice and compassionate you can be the one woman that makes them realize women aren't mean!" my mom bent over backwards for my dad for 25 fucking years he has plenty of other women kissing his ass and it never changed anything. do you really think that before being radicalized they never knew a single kind woman? they were never friends with a nice girl? alt-right men's problem with women isn't just that they've experienced too many mean women and they need to be shown that women can be nice, it's that they think women are inferior and don't deserve rights and don't understand anything so you can do what you want with them. and it takes a lot more than being nice to show someone that you aren't inferior. this isn't a case of being nice even when it's hard for the sake of deradicalization, it's about spending every fucking interaction with someone trying to get them to see you as a human being with value and a functioning intellect while they just laugh and show you that's never going to happen.

i cannot stress this enough: random women are not just going out and Being Mean to men. ur average guy interacts with plenty of women throughout his life- close women amongst their friends and family, casual interactions etc. most people don't start out being shunned by women, they start out being treated as NORMAL. & when they show their disrespect in normal society, it isn't tolerated, but when they go to alt-right spaces (which they're pushed towards online) they're told they're allowed to be as horrible as they want with no consequences because they're entitled to everything. it isn't "women aren't welcoming and the alt-right is so friendly so i'll become alt-right," it's "women don't let me disrespect them and the alt-right tells me fuck them, do whatever you want, you're entitled to it all" and why would you choose the group where you have to be a normal accountable person when there's a group that will reward you for being a shithead who gives no fucks?

the alt-right can afford to be more friendly and welcoming because they can allow bigotry. this can't work the same way for progressive spaces because we can be as kind & welcoming as possible but at the end of the day we have lines where we have to say "this behavior/speech isn't allowed in this space," and for certain people, that just can't win against a space where you can be as nasty as you want. these posts always end with a disclaimer saying "of course being kind doesnt mean you need to tolerate their bigotries" but what they don't realize and what drives me crazy is that women not tolerating bigotry IS the "women are mean" that radicalized them in the first place. they perceive you pushing back on any bigotry or bullshit as you being a meanie and treating them like they're ontologically evil. the 'kindness' they need to be deradicalized is you letting them walk all over you.

idk what the answer is to deradicalizing them and im sure relationships are part of it but you can be as kind as you want and all it will do is destroy you ime. i cant stand to see people (who have never even successfully deradicalized any man by being nice btw they always speak in hypotheticals and not from experience) double down on telling women to do things that will see no results and only hurt them, especially when any woman who has tried can tell you exactly how it went

[malleleothreesome]

UM????? HE’S BALANCING ALL OF THAT ON ONE HAND????? 👁️👄👁️

[lastmidtownshow24]

Two songs named Fourth of July in which the singer is calling someone their Versailles