#(newsflash: they're not. they're dumb)

[troonwolf]

True actually because if you’re not morally opposed to endogenic systems then you don’t understand how their ideology is inherently anti-recovery, pro-psuedo-science, and essentially just another new age internet cult that causes people to deny themselves mental health treatment.

OP is right but not for the reasons they think. :3

Whenever I see someone say “I’m not against the concept of endos I just think blablabla” my conclusion is they don’t fully understand the damage endos cause. You should be morally opposed to endos as a concept, in the same way you’d be morally opposed to anti-vaxx as a concept.

[imaginespazzi]

You Weren't Mine To Lose

They think they're so good at pretending when all they're really good at is pining.

(In which a masochistic writer puts her beloved ship through hell until giving them their much deserved happy ending)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining and a teensy bit of Fluff

Words: 8.2K (idk how this happened but oops? 🙈)

TW: Implied sexual content, mentions of panic attacks, small mention of blood, alcohol, and lots of swearing

“I think that maybe we should end this.”

Azzi Fudd had been on the receiving end of plenty of harsh sentences. And she’d been certain that there wasn’t a sentence left on this planet that could hurt her more than the one the doctor had used to tell her about her torn acl. Until now, until Paige Bueckers, eyes drifting everywhere but towards the girl in front of her, had said those eight words. 

“I just,” Paige pauses, rubbing her face, “I think I need something else.”

The words hit Azzi like acid rain, burning into her skin and infiltrating something she can’t quite explain in words. This wasn’t what she’d planned when she’d come searching for her best friend. No, she’d had an entirely different conversation in mind. She swallows the I love you, let’s be more, that had been on the tip of her tongue and chases it down with the carefully constructed speech of wanting forever and happily every after she’d written in her mind. The voice in her head shouts I fucking told you so, she was never yours and Azzi wants to scream. 

But what comes out is a quiet, feeble, “okay.”

“That’s it? Okay?” 

“Okay,” Azzi repeats, clearing her throat, trying to make her voice sound cavalier, “we said no strings and that means you can end it whenever you want. You don’t owe me any explanation and I won’t ask anything.”

“Right. No strings.” 

It had been Azzi’s idea really, her stupid dumb self-preservationist idea that had led her to this moment. They’d been drunk the first time it had happened but she remembers it clearly. 

Remembers the way an inebriated Paige had clung to her, eyes shining with lust. 

Remembers the way Paige had whispered her name, desire clinging to each syllable.

Remembers the shivers that had crept up her spine as Paige’s hands had gone on a journey starting at her shoulders, and then down her arms, before finally rubbing circles around her waist. 

Remembers the moment she decided fuck it. 

But most of all she remembers the morning after, remembers the questions written all over Paige’s face, remembers making another decision. Just best friends who occasionally fuck, no strings, just fun. She’d been stupid to think that if she ignored them, the strings just wouldn’t exist. That if she pretended it was just sex, that she wasn’t so completely in love with her best friend, she would get over it. Newsflash: she hadn’t gotten over it. 

“Well that’s that then,” Azzi says with a brightness she doesn’t feel, as she heads towards the door, desperate to get away, “I forgot Carol needed help with something so.”

“Azzi.”

She hates the hope that rises in her at the sound of her name. Tell me to stay. Tell me you didn’t mean it. Tell me you love me too. 

“We’re still us right?” Paige asks quietly, her voice filled with uncharacteristic vulnerability. 

“Of course Paige,” Azzi says, her back still turned towards Paige, knowing if she turns, if she lets Paige see her face, her best friend will see her words for the lies they are, “we’ll always be us.”

***

Azzi doesn’t know how she manages to get to Caroline’s room without falling to pieces. Her legs feel like they’re a second away from giving out and her arms shake uncontrollably. The dull beat of stress headache pounds in her skull. 

“Ah Mrs. Bueckers,” Caroline smiles jubilantly as Azzi lets herself in, “did you guys finally figure it out?”

It takes her a second to catch her breath and to understand the meaning of Mrs. Bueckers. And then, Azzi breaks. Laughter erupts from her body and suddenly she’s cackling like a woman possessed. It sounds like shattering glass to her own ears and this is it, she thinks, I’ve officially reached peak madness. But she can’t stop, her body doubling over as she clutches at her stomach, tears beginning to leak from her eyes. 

Caroline’s eyes widen, her smile slowly slipping off as the realisation that something has gone very wrong settles in. 

“Azzi, fuck, what happened,” she asks, unsure of wether to approach the distressed girl, who, instead of answering, starts laughing harder, “shit, should I get Paige.” 

Something shift’s at the mention of Paige’s name. The laughter dies away and instead, an unsettling panic takes birth in Azzi’s stomach at the idea of Paige seeing her like this.

“No,” she chokes out frantically, “don’t get Paige.” 

Caroline’s concern grows at that. It had become a rule of sorts, if one of Paige or Azzi seemed to be going through it, then the best thing to do was to go find the other. They knew each other’s wants and needs better than anyone else could ever hope to. And what they wanted, was usually the other to hold them through the pain. So this, Azzi not asking for Paige, Azzi actively denying her need for Paige, this was bad, very bad. 

“What happened Az?”

“She ended it,” the words leave Azzi’s mouth in tandem with the air leaving her lungs, “oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. She ended it. Fuck. She wants something else, something more and that’s not– I’m not– oh my god.”

“Az-”

“I knew this was a bad idea but- oh my god. She ended it,” tears wrack through her body as reality crashes and burns around Azzi, “I was so stupid, so, so stupid. I told you this would happen Caroline. I told you she didn’t feel the same. Oh my god, I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe.”

“Azzi,” Caroline grabs at the brown-skinned girl, spotting the tell-tale signs of panic attack, “breathe with me Az, come on, it’s okay.”

“No it’s not,” Azzi manages to get out, gasping for air, her body vibrating with sobs, “it’s not going to be okay because she doesn’t love me. She doesn’t love me and I don’t know how to live with that because all I know is how to love her.” 

Azzi feels the energy leave her body as she goes limp in Caroline’s arms, letting the taller girl anchor her. She’s not ready yet, not ready for tomorrow when she’ll inevitably have to play pretend. She’ll have to stand in the same room as her best friend and put on a smile and pretend that she wouldn’t rather be anywhere but there. She’ll have to bicker and tease and laugh with the girl who broke her heart and pretend that she’d never given her the power to break it in the first place. And Azzi would do it all, because that’s what she’d promised Paige. She’d looked in the blonde girl’s eyes at the age of fifteen and swore to her that no matter what happened, the two of them would always be them. They would always be okay. And Azzi was going to do everything in her power to keep that promise

***

The first few days are fine and Azzi almost deludes herself into believing that she's okay. They fall into their old rhythm of being just best friends almost seamlessly, at least they do when they’re with their teammates. She’s not ready to confront the fact that they haven’t been by themselves, just the two of them, since that night. And if Paige notices the way Azzi avoids being alone with her, she keeps it to herself. 

The same way they didn’t tell anyone they were more, they don’t tell anyone they’re less. They don’t need to; the team just knows. Even the coaches, who knew but never said a word, can tell something’s off. It’s in the little hesitations before the smiles, the moments of pause before saying something. But most of all it’s in the way Paige and Azzi don’t touch at all anymore. There’s no more Paige making it a mission to find ways to let her hands linger just a little longer on Azzi’s body when she’s in defending her, no more not-so-subtle brushes and linking pinkies as they walk past each other in the hallways, no more “just another one” pecks in the training rooms as everyone else waits for them. 

Nothing changes on the court. Paige passes the ball, a pass only she could see, and Azzi shoots it, a shot only she could get off. They play in tandem, their backcourt chemistry still perfect. But the slap of their hands after the ball goes through the hoop, is half-hearted and formal, like teammates. Less. So, maybe Azzi’s wrong. Maybe they haven’t really fallen back into their old patterns and maybe everybody knows it. But in the bright lights of the gym, as she and Paige argue over a defensive play, and the game of basketball keeps them tethered to each other, she thinks that this will have to be enough. 

***

And then, things go from okay to very much not okay. It’s after practice and they’ve chosen Paige’s apartment as their relaxation spot, except Paige isn’t there. She’d snuck away after practice and Azzi had pretended, it’s all she seems to do these days, not to notice. She’s not used to not knowing where Paige is but she’d quenched the overwhelming need to ask the blonde girl where she was going while completely ignoring the part of her that wanted to ask if she could come along. 

“And that’s how your brain eats itself,” Amari finishes a long winded explanation with a triumphant smile. There’s dead silence as the rest of the team looks at each other before they all burst into laughter. 

“How the hell do you even know that?” Aaliyah manages to get out through peals of laughter. 

“Y’all don’t google?” Amari asks incredulously, and the way her face scrunches up causes a brand new wave of giggles to flood the room. 

“We google,” Azzi says and she hasn’t smiled like this in days, “we just don’t google things like that.”

Amari lets out an indignant squawk at that and Azzi feels a sense of calm that she hasn’t in a while. It lasts about a minute until two voices, one unfamiliar, one too familiar, begin to invade the room. Paige stumbles in a second later and fuck. Azzi’s breath catches in her throat as she desperately tries to look away from where Paige’s hand is firmly intertwined with someone else’s. It’s a mistake because her eyes land on Paige's face instead and that might be worse. She’s met with a glowing smile and bright eyes, none of which are directed towards Azzi. Instead, all of Paige’s happiness is for another girl.

“Layla,” she hears Aubrey say and oh. Because Azzi knows exactly who Layla is, or at least who she was. There had been a freshman Paige that Azzi had never really known beyond the phone calls and facetimes with her Paige. But she’d known that Paige had gotten around and she’d heard of Layla. They told each other everything and hookups fell right into the scheme of things. Layla had been Paige’s go-to on nights she’d been too tired to go looking for someone else. She’d been such a constant, that she’d slowly become a friend. Things had changed gradually from the moment Azzi stepped on campus. Even before they’d brought sex into it, all of Paige’s time had been Azzi’s, well, until now. 

“Hey guys,” Layla smiles and is greeted back with a chorus of not so enthusiastic “hello’s” 

“Lay, let’s go,” Paige whines impatiently. 

“Give me a second Bueckers, I’m trying to be polite,” Layla rolls her eyes but Azzi doesn’t miss the fondness in them and everything burns again. 

“Be polite later,” Paige tugs on Layla’s hand. In turn, Layla gives the team a slightly apologetic smile before letting the blonde girl pull her away. The bang of Paige’s door closing behind the two of them reverberates around the pin drop silence of the living room, that had been filled with laughter only mere seconds ago. 

Azzi finds herself suffocating under the sympathetic glances her teammates send her way. She digs her fingernails deep into the palm of her hand, forming dents she knows will bleed. If it hurts, she doesn’t feel it over the reckless thumping in her chest. One, two, three, breathe, she counts to herself, refusing to break down in front of her teammates. 

“It’s called phagocytosis,” Amari says after a second, trying to fill the silence, “and I mean it’s not really the brain eating itself but it feels like it.” 

“So you just technically lied then.”

“I did no such thing. It was a slight exaggeration maybe.”

“Phagocytosis sounds like a really weird disease.”

“Yeah, maybe Amari has it.”

The team dissolves back into giggles, not quite as rambunctious as before but it’s enough. Enough for them to be distracted. Enough for Azzi to escape. Not enough for Caroline to not notice but Azzi knows her friend will give her a moment. She takes the stairs almost three at a time, flinging the door to her apartment and then to her room. The force of it creates a circle of wind around her and for a second, to her dizzy brain, it feels like Azzi’s floating. She doesn’t bother with the lights, flinging herself onto her bed. Pressing her hands to her forehead, she desperately tries to block the constant stream of thoughts in her head about Paige and Layla. It doesn’t help. And in the familiar comfort of her bedroom,  Azzi curls into herself, and lets herself fall apart.

***

The ball passes right through Azzi’s hand and rolls out of bounds. Azzi curses to herself as she hears Coach yell her name. It’s almost the end of practice, and she can hear the disappointment in his voice as he subs her out of their scrimmage.  She’d been distracted the whole time, a step too slow on both sides of the ball. It was a novel thing. Azzi had bad games sometimes but she rarely had bad practices. As she walks off to the side, she can feel Paige’s eyes glaring at her. It had been her assist after all that Azzi hadn’t converted. She shrinks into herself, disappointment and shame colliding into one, because they’d done such a good job at not letting their personal havoc impact their game. And she’d blown it. 

“What the hell was that,” true to what she’d expected, Paige turns on her the minute they enter the locker room after practice. They’ve barely spoken in the last couple of days and Azzi closes her eyes, letting herself revel just for a second in the feeling of having Paige so close. 

“It was an accident,” she replies, turning her body so she’s face to face with her best friend. 

Paige scoffs, “which one?”

“Excuse me?” 

“You heard me. Which one was the accident? That perfect pass you just let go to waste? Was it that wide open three you missed? Or the blind drive to the basket into three defenders for no reason? Oh wait, maybe it was when you completely lost yourself on defence?” Paige rants, anger coating every word. It’s not new for Paige to hold Azzi accountable and god, maybe Azzi’s even missed it a little bit but she can’t help feeling annoyed that this this is what had triggered the old Paige. 

“I had a bad day. It happens,” Azzi’s voice is colder than she means for it to come out but all the emotions she’s been suppressing are bubbling at the top of her throat. 

“Well it can’t happen. You do that in a game and we’re fucked,” Paige retorts. The rest of the team continues to do what they’ve been doing, occasionally glancing at the two arguing girls. It’s another of those unspoken rules, don’t interfere when Paige and Azzi are fighting. 

“I didn’t do it in a game.”

“But you could. And if you keep practising like that you’re going to end up embarrassing yourself in a game.”

“Again, it was one bad day Paige, I’ll keep it in mind and I’ll be better tomorrow,” frustration seeps into her tone and Azzi hopes that her words are enough for Paige. 

“You better because that can’t happen again Azzi,” Paige says. 

“I just said it wouldn’t,” Azzi’s voice rises, throwing her hands up in irritation. 

“Don’t yell at me, I’m-” 

“Paige?” a new voice cuts in and both girls reluctantly look away from each other to see Layla, “hey, you okay? You wanna get out of here.”

“I-” Paige lets out a breath, looking back and forth between Azzi and Layla. And Azzi waits, waits for Paige to tell the new girl not to get in between Paige and Azzi, like she always had when anyone else had tried to step into their fights. She waits for Paige to tell Laya that she’s fine, and that she and Azzi just need to talk it out. She waits, and it never comes. 

“Yeah, yeah I do,” the blonde girl says instead, giving Layla a small smile. She looks over at Azzi, something unreadable in her eyes, before grabbing her stuff and walking out. 

“Shit,” Caroline whispers under her breath, a sentiment clearly echoed in the rest of the team’s faces. Paige and Azzi didn’t leave arguments unfinished. They'd been in uncharted waters with the two girls for a while now, and this feels like yet another turning point. 

Anger and frustration course through Azzi’s veins. She just left her brain sneers at her. The hurt and pain fade to the back of her mind, as Azzi lets these new emotions settle all over her. She’s cried more in the last couple of weeks than she ever has in her life and she realises slowly, letting this new volatility swarm her, that she has no more tears left to give. She left. And then a new voice enters her brain, and you let her go. 

***

A knock on the door shakes Azzi away from her thoughts. The book on her lap that she’d been pretending to read, falls unmajestically to the floor. Through bleary eyes, she sees the 10 o’clock on her watch and confusion settles into her. She’d been clear before leaving the locker room that she wanted to be alone tonight and while her teammates had protested a little, they’d eventually agreed to give her space, although Caroline had been adamant on coming to wish her a good night. It was far too early for that. She sighs, ready to huff at whichever of her teammates had ignored her pleas. Instead she’s met with the sight of a sheepish looking Paige. 

“Hey,” the blonde girl smiles and it’s small and slightly cautious but it’s so genuine.

“Hi,” Azzi says softly. 

“I think I owe you a little bit of an apology,” Paige says. 

Azzi’s eyebrows furrow at that, “since when do you apologise for holding me accountable?”

“I- well,” Paige stutters, “Layla said I should.”

“That’s what Layla says is it?” Azzi can’t keep the bitterness out of her voice. They’d never apologised for critiquing each other’s games or practise before and suddenly Layla had said Paige should and Paige had listened. Azzi hates everything about that. 

“Is me apologizing a bad thing? What’s with the attitude?”

“No,” Azzi sighs, not having the mental stamina to deal with right now, “I’m just tired. I appreciate the apology and I’m sorry too.”

It sounds so formal to her own ears, like two acquaintances writing emails to each other. As they stand face to face, separated by mere inches, Azzi realises the depth of the chiasm between them. And she doesn’t know if she has the strength to build a bridge to go over it. 

“Do you want to watch a movie,” Paige asks finally, her voice tinged with hope. 

“I don’t know Paige. I’m tired and-”

“Please,” there’s desperation in Paige's voice now, “we haven’t done anything just you and me in a while and,” she stops, her eyes wet as they come up to meet Azzi’s, “I miss you.”

I miss you too, Azzi wants to stay. She wants to throw herself at Paige and wrap herself in the comfort of her arms. She wants to massage away the stress lines on her forehead and kiss away the tears threatening to fall from her blue eyes. Instead, Azzi simply manages to nod and steps away so Paige can come in. She’s rewarded with a smile so bright, it makes her heart ache.

As Paige enters the room, Azzi’s reminded of the last time the two of them had been there together and she can’t help the faint blush that rises up her neck into her cheeks. That night had been different, Paige had been softer, slower. She’d taken her time with every touch, every kiss; her every move had been sinfully deliberate. Through all of it, she’d kept her eyes locked with Azzi’s, making sure she could see how desperately Paige needed her in that moment. And Azzi, hands fisting sheets, had let her take whatever she wanted. She wonders if Paige knew that would be their last time, if she’d already decided to end things. I’d have held on longer if I knew. 

Paige’s eyes linger on the bed for a second, before she decides to sit on the couch and Azzi follows her lead. They both curl up as close to the arm rests on their side as they can, leaving an unfathomably large amount of space between themselves for two basketball players who had been attached at the hip since they were fifteen. The awkwardness is palpable as Azzi picks a random comedy movie, the two of them making a subconscious decision to not revert to their normal routine of arguing about what to watch. 

It takes a quarter or so of the movie before they find some semblance of normalcy. Paige finally lets out a laugh, after having reined it in during previous funny scenes and it sets Azzi off. And then they’re both giggling messes, feeding off of each other’s infectious laughter. The tension eases and they both unconsciously let their bodies uncurl, letting their legs tangle with each other. It comes so naturally, they don’t even really notice that they’re touching for the first time in weeks. They’re too busy laughing, and when they’re not, there’s a comfortable silence and it’s just, it’s them. Azzi doesn’t know when she falls asleep, she just knows it’s the best sleep she’s had in a while.

***

Azzi stirs awake to cold hands caressing her face, Paige’s touch ever so familiar. She keeps her eyes closed, scared it’s a dream. She’s had a lot of those lately.

“I wish you felt the same,” Paige whispers, pressing her lips to Azzi’s forehead and Azzi swears she feels a teardrop fall on her face. But before she can react, before she can reach out for the figure she can feel hovering above her, she feels it retreat away from her. 

When she finally opens her eyes, she’s all alone.

***

Azzi’s on edge. The team had chosen a bar in a random town in Connecticut tonight, instead of going to Ted’s as usual. It was meant to be a change of scenery and they were unlikely to be as recognized in such a random area. In theory, it sounded like a good idea, but the combination of a brand new place with people she’d never seen in her life, made Azzi far more tense than she had thought it would. On top of that, she hadn’t wanted to go out tonight in the first place. It had been two days since Paige had left her cryptically, and with the way the blond was vehemently avoiding her, Azzi was partially convinced, maybe she had dreamt the whole thing. The exhaustion of it all had desperately made her want to simply lie in bed and do nothing for hours. But if she’d stayed, one of her teammates would stay behind for her and if there was one thing Azzi didn’t want, it was to be an inconvenience. 

And then there was the Layla of it all. Because apparently Paige didn’t go anywhere without Layla anymore. Remember when it was you, Azzi’s brain reminds her scathingly. From where she sits at a table with the rest of the team, she has a torturously close view of the two of them dancing together. It’s nothing scandalous, in fact to anybody else it’s probably the definition of friendly, but Azzi’s head is clouded with jealousy, and the three shots of vodka she’d already downed to ignore it.

“I think I need another round of shots,” she announces, noticing Paige and Layla start to make their way back to the table, “one of you come with me.”

“Is that a good idea?” Caroline asks tensely. 

“Of course it is. Shots are good. Shots are fun,” Azzi wraps an arm around Caroline’s shoulder, her words coming out slightly slurred, “come with me pretty please.”

“Come where?” Paige’s voice interrupts. 

“Nowhere you need to be,” Azzi retorts harshly and a flicker of hurt passes across Paige’s face. Azzi almost apologises, hating seeing Paige sad, but then her eyes focus in on where Layla’s hand is carefully placed on Paige’s bicep, and the sorry dies on the tip of her tongue. Instead, she roughly grabs Caroline and pulls her to the bar. She doesn’t get drunk often, hadn’t planned on doing it tonight but she’s so tired of feeling. 

“Maybe we should cut you off,” Caroline says softly and Azzi pouts, “c’mon Azzi drinking so you don’t have to deal with your feelings is never a good idea you know that. You know I’m right.”

“I’m really tired of doing what’s right,” Azzi says despondently, waving the bartender over, “a shot of tequila please.”

Caroline sighs but seems to think better of trying again, shaking her head no when the bartender asks if she wants a drink of her own. She watches silently as Azzi downs the shot, concern and sympathy for her friend keeping her from snatching the shot away from Azzi. 

“On me,” a deep voice echoes in Azzi’s ear as she pulls out her card to pay for the shot. She loses balance trying to turn around, but a pair of unfamiliar hands grab at her waist to keep her steady. Through the fuzziness in her brain, Azzi finds herself staring into green eyes; green eyes that belong to a pretty girl with blond hair and strong arms. And she’s tall,  a voice in her brain says appreciatively. She looks just like Paige, well except the eyes, another less-amused voice points out. But she’s not Paige is she, the other voice reminds her snarkily. 

“Oh you don’t have to do that,” Azzi hears Caroline say from behind, her voice weirdly pitched. 

“I want to,” the pretty girl says, eyes never leaving Azzi, as she hands her card over to the bartender “I’m Stephanie.”

“Azzi.”

“And is the girl behind you, your girlfriend Azzi?” Stephanie asks, but her tone suggests she already knows. 

“Who? Caroline. Oh absolutely not. Just a friend.” 

“Good.”

“Good?”

“I don’t dance with pretty girls with girlfriends,” Stephanie says, emphasising the word pretty. 

“We’re not dancing,” Azzi replies dumbly. 

“Well let’s fix that,” Stephanie whispers and oh, she’s flirting, Azzi realises. It’s not that Azzi’s never had anyone hit on her. No, there’d been plenty of men but there hadn’t been a girl before, well never a girl that wasn’t Paige, “dance with me Azzi.”

Behind Azzi, Caroline chokes on air. 

“Azzi,” she hisses, her eyes flickering over to where Paige is sitting, back turned to the bar. The point guard hasn’t seen what’s happening yet but Caroline knows the moment she catches wind of it, things would go up in quite literal flames. 

Azzi stares up at Stephanie’s expectant eyes, before letting her gaze move to Paige, Paige who’s engrossed in a conversation with Layla, who’s laughing at something Layla said. She turns back to Stephanie, a shy smile playing on her lips. 

“I’d love to dance,” she says softly, ignoring the groan Caroline lets out behind her and letting Stephanie pull her to the dance floor. Two can play the move on game. 

Dancing with Stephanie is different. Her hands feel different against Azzi’s skin, a little too rough and yet still too soft. Her smile is different, sexy and sultry but missing an innocent frivolity that Azzi had become used to. But most of all it’s the eyes. The mysterious green, a sharp contrast from the calm, familiar blue. She pushes the comparisons to the back of her mind, determined to enjoy the way Stephanie twirls her around then pulls her in. And then they’re suddenly so close, noses almost touching. Azzi knows what’s going to happen and she can’t shake the feeling that it’s not right.

“I’m going to kiss you,” Stephanie whispers and the voices in Azzi’s head battle, her heart beating to a chorus of she’s not Paige. But the final nail in the coffin is an image of Paige and Layla that her brain conjures up and in an envious drunken haze, Azzi makes another of her not so great decisions. She nods her head yes. 

It takes a second of Stephanie’s lips pressing against hers for Azzi to know it’s all wrong. As she starts pulling away, the sound of shattering glass wreaks havoc in ears. Eyes blinking rapidly, she follows the path of familiar voices shouting to locate the noise. Paige stands, a little distance away from the dance floor, face fuming red. A litany of broken glass shards surround her feet and a gush of red flows from the patch of skin where her left thumb meets her left palm. 

“Paige, fuck,” concerns flows through Azzi but before she can make her way to the bleeding girl, Stephanie pulls her back in. 

“Meet me outside in a bit yeah,” she says with a devilish smirk. She doesn’t give Azzi a chance to respond, before disappearing out of sight. Azzi blinks dumbfoundedly at the spot where the girl had previously been, the alcohol catching up to her brain. 

“Paige oh my god you’re bleeding,” Nika’s voice shakes Azzi out of her trance, “can someone get a band-aid please.”

The crowd parts seamlessly as Azzi rushes towards her best friend, grabbing for her injured left hand. 

“What the hell Paige?” she’s incredibly sober now, as she inspects Paige’s hand before it’s yanked out of her grip. 

“I should ask you that. What. The. Hell. Azzi?” fury laces every word as Paige stares her down. 

“I– what?” Azzi asks quizzically, still focused on trying to grab Paige’s hand again but the blonde girl is determined, despite wincing, to keep it out of her reach. 

“Tell me, was she a good kisser?” Paige asks, eyes narrowing dangerously, “did you enjoy the kiss?”

“That’s–I–it–that’s not important,” Azzi stutters, “you’re bleeding Paige.”

“And I’ll keep bleeding till you answer the damn question,” the blonde girl says, unveiling a side of herself Azzi's never seen, “so tell me Azzi, was it a good kiss?”

“Paige,” Caroline says firmly, noticing the crowds that are building up around them, “I don’t think now’s the time.”

“No, I think it’s the perfect time actually. If she can kiss a stranger now, she can answer a question about this kiss now too,” Paige sneers.

“You’re making a scene,” Azzi whispers. 

“I’m making a scene?” the laugh Paige lets out is borderline manic, “I’m making a scene? You’re the one borderline dry-humping a stranger in the middle of a random bar and I’m making a scene?”

“Excuse me?” Azzi recoils. 

“Just telling the truth. Where’d she go then? Is she waiting for you outside?” when Azzi doesn’t reply, Paige find her answer in the silence and let’s out another laugh, “she is, isn’t she? Well then what the fuck are you doing here Azzi?”

“Paige,” Azzi says softly, eyes brimming with tears now, “you’re bleeding. Let me help you.”

“No, I don’t need your help Azzi.”

“Paige,” she tries again. 

“No Azzi. I don’t need you. Go get fucking laid,” the words snap something in Azzi that has been on the edge of breaking since Paige had told her she wanted something else. She steps back from the blonde girl, blood boiling. 

“You know what Paige,” her voice is far stronger than she feels, “maybe I fucking will.”

***

“Fuck,” Paige curses, fisting her palms and then hissing when her left hand aches. Regret pulsates through her head. She hadn’t meant it, any of it but especially not the last part. The last thing she wanted was Azzi to go after that girl. 

Watching Azzi kiss someone else had been enough torture, the idea of her doing anything more would be the end of Paige’s sanity. It was ingrained in her brain now. She’d been laughing with Layla, hands encased around a beer bottle and then her teammates had gone oddly quiet, their eyes focused on something behind her. Confused, Paige had turned and immediately wished she hadn’t. 

Standing in the middle of the dance floor was her Azzi, in somebody else’s arms. Layla, the saviour she’d been the last couple days, had immediately tried to distract her but Paige’s gaze was transfixed on Azzi. Her best friend twirled on the dance floor and a dagger twisted in Paige’s heart. And then, time seemed to slow down as the other girl brough Azzi impossibly close to her. Don’t you fucking dare Paige had thought, squeezing the glass bottle like a stress toy. On the dance floor, someone else, someone who wasn’t Paige, pressed their lips to Azzi’s and on the other side, Paige’s hands crushed the glass bottle into a thousand pieces. 

When Azzi looked over, her lipstick slightly smudged, her eyes glassy, Paige had wanted to die. And when the girl had the audacity to pull Azzi back into her, Paige had wanted to commit murder. Misery and fury raged a battle in her head and when Azzi had rushed over, the gentle touch of her hand had been too much. And then Paige had taken it too far. 

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” she repeats, ignoring her teammates as she fights through the crowd to chase after Azzi. Some people move easily, others glare and some flat out yell at her but Paige doesn’t care; she focuses solely on getting to the girl she’d just let go. 

“Azzi?” she calls out, stepping out of the bar into the cold breeze, “please, please, please don’t go. Azzi?”

She scans the parking lot for the brunette, frantically pacing around the entrance but there’s no sign of Azzi. Paige hasn’t cried since the night she’d ended it, throwing herself in work and basketball and Layla but as the realisation that Azzi left, that maybe it’s too late, hits her, the tears she’d so carefully kept at bay, traipse down her cheeks like a never ending waterfall. 

***

The whole team is silent in the living room as Nika bandages Paige’s left hand. The tension in the air is palpable as Amari paces the room, the sounds of her feet moving matching the rhythm of Aubrey nervously snacking on a packet of chips. 

“Are you going to explain yourself,” Aaliyah breaks through the quiet, her question directed at Paige. 

“It was an accident,” Paige doesn’t mean to get defensive. She’s aware she fucked up tonight but there’s too much going on and her head is still stuck at Azzi. Azzi, who had left with a random girl and only texted Caroline the words I’m fine after Caroline had blown up her phone with concerned texts. Paige’s I’m sorry, hadn’t gotten any reply. 

“An accident,” Aaliayh says slowly, raising an eyebrow, “that’s what you’re going with?”

“I didn’t purposely break a glass bottle and fuck up my thumb Aaliyah.”

“Coach is going to kill you,” Aubrey says nervously, “this is not good Paige.”

“Did I miss the gang up on Paige memo? Because why am I the one being yelled at right now?” 

“Who’s yelling?” Amari supplies unhelpfully. 

“That’s not the point,” Paige glares at the taller girl who puts her hands up in defeat, “Why am I the one getting this responsibility lecture? I’m not the one who just made out with a random stranger in a bar and then just fucking left with them. We don’t even know where the hell she is.”

She knows she sounds bitter but the hurt of the night still stings and she doesn’t have the mental capacity to deal with her teammates being mad at her rightnow. Tomorrow, she’d apologise and own up but she’s feeling reckless tonight. Her teammates are silent and Paige thinks, maybe they’re going to drop it too. And then Caroline speaks, her voice steely in a way that doesn’t match her normally soft sweet self. 

“And what’s wrong with that?” she meets Paige’s eyes with an unexpected fierceness, “she’s single. Stephanie as far as I know is single. Azzi’s a grown adult who can hook up with whoever the hell she feels like. It’s not just something you can do.”

“That’s not the point,” Paige growls, “”you guys always know where I-”

“I know exactly where Azzi is actually,” Caroline rebuts , “so what exactly is the problem here?”

“She– I– It’s,” Paige bumbles on, not having an actual answer. 

“You’re the one who ended it,” Caroline says, her voice accusatory, and the whole room seems to hold their breath at that, “you ended it and you don’t get to question what she does now. It’s over Paige and that was your decision.”

Paige gapes at Caroline, “how can you, of all people, say that to me?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“You’re the only one who knows Carol,” Paige says slowly and it’s Carol’s turn to be confused now. The rest of the team shoots each other questioning glances, things suddenly seeming even more puzzling than before. 

“I heard you that night,” the blonde girl says, her voice breaking a little, “I heard you and Azzi.”

“Paige,” Caroline says, always quick to catch things, “what exactly did you hear?”

“I heard enough,” Paige says, closing her eyes because she can still hear that conversation in her head, “I heard her telling you she was going to end it, that she was tired of our arrangement. That she wanted– she needed– something else.”

“Oh Paige,” Nika says softly, putting an arm around Paige’s shoulders and her twin practically melts into the comforting touch. 

“But I know her. She’s not good at that stuff. Always such a people pleaser. It was gonna be too hard for her to say it to me, so I said it for her. I broke my own heart, so she didn’t have to.”

A heavy silence follows Paige’s words as the blonde girl lets the tears fall for the second time that night. Her teammates are lost for words, the gravity of the situation, of Paige’s feelings, too much for all of them. A myriad of emotions flitter across Caroline’s face before finally settling on a saddened sympathy. 

“Paige,” she says softly, coming to sit in front of the sobbing point guard, “you didn’t hear the whole conversation. God you’re such an idiot, the both of you are honestly.”

“Talk about kicking me when I’m down Carol,” Paige jokes. 

“That’s not– Paige I can’t tell you the whole conversation because you deserve to hear it from her and she deserves the chance to say it to you. But Paige, Azzi wasn’t going to end it because she wanted less, she was going to end it because she wanted more. From you, for both of you,” Caroline says, hoping against hope that Paige understands what she means. 

The realisation hits Paige in waves. She wants more. The words echo through her head and carve out a place in her heart. She wants more. Azzi had wanted more and Paige had wanted more and oh, they’d been so fucking stupid. 

“I pushed her too far though,” Paige says as another realisation, the fact that Azzi isn’t here hits her, “she’s gone. Fuck, I need to be alone.”

“No Paige wai-” Caroline begins but Paige is gone out the door before she can tell the girl where Azzi is. She considers going after Paige but decides that maybe she’s revealed enough today. Maybe they could figure out the rest of it by themselves. 

***

She’d meant to go to her own apartment, to her own room but her feet had a mind of their own, bringing her to Azzi’s instead. It was muscle memory really, her finding Azzi when she needed to be held. Except, there would be no Azzi to hold her tonight. Still, being in her room, where it smelt like her, Paige could pretend. She’d gotten pretty good at that. 

The door opens smoothly as Paige slides into the room. And she almost gasps. 

In the dim light of the night lamp, Azzi lies curled up in bed. She’s cuddling a pillow to her chest, her blanket pulled up to her neck with one hand slightly out of it. And she’s wearing one of Paige’s shirts, 

She’s the most beautiful girl Paige has ever seen. 

Carefully, trying to make as little sound as possible, Paige creeps closer to the sleeping girls. She can vaguely make out the tear tracks running down Azzi’s face and the guilt of it runs through Paige. A part of her thinks, maybe she should leave, wait til tomorrow. But she can’t. Instead she grabs one of Azzi’s shirts that lay scattered on the bean bag chair placed at the end of the bed. Quietly, she changes into it, breathing in the scent of all things Azzi. 

“Paige.” Azzi whispers groggily as Paige slips underneath the covers, lying down facing the sleeping girl. 

“Yeah,” Paige replies softly, caressing Azzi’s cheeks, “it’s me.”

“It’s not,” Azzi says wistfully, eyes still closed, as she wraps an arm around Paige’s torso, “it’s just me dreaming again.”

“You dream about me?” Paige asks, hating the hurt she can hear in Azzi’s voice. 

“Mmm,” comes Azzi’s answer as she snuggles further into Paige, “all the time. I’ll take you however I can get you Paige. Even if it's a dream. Even if you’re not here in the morning.”

“I will be tomorrow. I promise,” Paige presses a kiss to the top of Azzi’s head and the darker skinned girl lets out a content sigh but Paige can tell she still thinks she’s dreaming, that she still thinks she’ll wake up alone tomorrow. 

But Paige Bueckers doesn’t break promises. She’d be right there with Azzi tomorrow morning and if things went the way she wanted them to, then she’d be there for every morning after.

***

It’s the best sleep she’s gotten in weeks and Paige wakes up in a complete state of serenity. It doesn’t last long when she blindly feels around the bed for Azzi’s warm body, only to find the cool of empty sheets under her head instead. She jolts up frantically, mind going million miles an hour thinking up the worst possibilities. Her heartbeat begins to calm down as she finally finds the brunette curled up on the bean bag chair with her knees pulled to her chest. 

“Hey,” Paige breathes out, unable to stop the smile that spreads across her face. Azzi doesn’t smile back

“What are you doing here Paige?” Azzi asks warily and Paige is instantly defensive. 

“What are you doing here Azzi? Didn’t you say you were going to get laid?” 

“And what if I did?” 

“Well it must not have been very good if you came home that early and put on another girl’s shirt,” Paige says pointedly, amused by the pink that appears on Azzi’s cheeks. She knows the other girl’s lying, it’s just a matter of how long she’ll keep up the ruse. 

“I grabbed whatever was closest.”

“Is that so?” Paige quirks an eyebrow, “I wouldn’t stand for it, letting the girl I’d just fucked wear someone else’s clothes. You know that.”

Azzi’s blush intensifies and she’s quick to change topics, “does your girlfriend know you snuck into another girl’s room last night?”

“I wasn’t aware I had a girlfriend,” Paige says, confused by the question. 

“So what exactly is Layla then?”

“She’s a friend.”

“Yeah right,” Azzi scoffs, rolling her eyes. Paige stares at her best friend, wondering if she’s gone insane. Her and Layla? Even thinking about it felt a little insane. Sure, she’d slept with the girl a couple of times her freshmen year but even that had felt insanely platonic.

“Az,” she says softly when the realisation sinks in, “Layla is not my girlfriend. She’s– well, I guess she’s my escape? I just– I needed a friend who wasn’t also your friend and she was there and it was easy. You really thought she was my girlfriend?”

“What was I supposed to think Paige?” Azzi says miserably, voice rising with each word, “you said you needed something else and Layla’s something else so I put two and two together and apparently came up with five.”

“I didn’t–,” Paige takes in a deep breath, it was now or never, “I thought you were gonna break my heart.”

“What?”

Paige sighs at the incredulity in Azzi’s voice, “I overheard you telling Carol that you were gonna end it with me, that you needed something else.”

“Oh,” she can see the clogs in Azzi’s brain turning, remembering exactly which conversation Paige is talking about. 

“Yeah. So I ended it before you could. I couldn’t let you– I didn’t want you to break my heart,” Paige says, averting Azzi’s eyes. 

“So you broke mine instead?” Azzi whispers and Paige doesn’t have to see the girl to know there are tears in her eyes. 

“I didn’t realise it was mine to break,” Paige shrugs brokenly, eyes finally looking at Azzi through wet eyelashes. 

They stare at each other in silence, hearts beating erratically, both of them waiting to see who’ll make the first move. Finally, Azzi stands up, and for once second, the fear that she’s about to walk away, that it really was too late, fogs Paige’s mind. But she doesn’t and instead Paige watches mesmerised, as Azzi slowly climbs onto the bed and then onto Paige’s lap. She arranges her legs so she’s straddling Paige’s thighs and her arms fall naturally around Paige’s neck. Immediately, Paige’s hands move to grip Azzi’s waist. They stay there like that for a while, foreheads resting against each other, basking in the warmth of finally being so close. 

“I haven’t been with anyone since you,” Azzi confesses finally and Paige lets out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, “I thought about it but then I was in her car and all I could think about was you. I think you might have ruined me for anyone else.”

“Good. Because this is it okay? You and me forever,” Paige juts out a pinky and Azzi immediately links it with her own. 

“Forever,” Azzi whispers back and it’s not clear who surges forward first but then they’re kissing and it feels like a brand new adventure and coming home all at once. They melt into each other, gripping each other as close as possible, the overwhelming need to be touching everywhere taking over their senses. 

“Azzi,” Paige pulls away and almost laughs at the way Azzi pouts, “I need you to say it.”

Azzi’s eyes twinkle with happiness, a spark only Paige can bring out in them. She leans in, the feel of her breath sending shivers of anticipation up Paige’s spine.

“Wanna play ball?” she whispers sensually. Paige lets out an irritated whine and Azzi bursts out laughing, hiding her face in the crook of Paige’s neck. 

“Seriously,” Paige groans, pinching Azzi’s waist, but she’s unable to keep the amusement out of her own voice. She hasn’t seen Azzi this happy in so long and if Azzi’s happy, well then everything in Paige’s world is going right. The younger girl’s giggles slowly subside, as her face takes on a more serious expression. 

“Paige Madison Bueckers,” she says, cupping Paige’s face, “you’re my best friend, my soulmate and I’m pretty sure you’re the love of my life. And I’m about to be real cliché here so don’t laugh but baby, I want your face to be the first thing I see every morning and the last thing I see every night. I want you at your best but even more at your worst. I want everything as long as it’s with you. Because I am so completely, and utterly and ridiculously in love with you.”

“When did you become such a poet Azzi Fudd,” Paige says, her smile widening when Azzi laughs again, “I’m so completely and utterly and ridiculously in love with you.”

Paige recaptures Azzi’s lips with her own, pulling her girl as close to her as she can. The kiss is sweet and a little salty from the happy tears running down both their faces. It’s innocent and lazy, and still sloppy and passionate. It’s everything.

“If you ever break up with me again, I’ll kill you,” Azzi says, only half joking. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Paige promises, “you’re stuck with me for life.”

***

A/N: Congratulations on making it to the end of that! I'm ngl, I love the concept but I don't think I wrote it out particularly well but I had fun writing it so hopefully y'all enjoyed reading it. I promise the next one will be more happy. But for now, I hope this was worth it <3.

[bootblackhooves]

🌸 Yaoi vs Yuri Discourse

Sorry not sorry, the discourse over Yaoi vs Yuri on the part of Yuri fans is dumb af. Imagine trying to force people into writing stuff they're not interested in just because you are too lazy or uncreative to write for yourself.

It's misogyny

It's lesbophobic

You must hate women

Are the most common things I hear in refence to this. Newsflash, it's not misogyny, it's not lesbophobic, and no, we don't hate women for not liking Yuri. It's very entitled to think that people should write for free, just because you demand it. Fanfic is a hobby that people do out of love and passion, and because it's a hobby, people are going to write what they enjoy-- and guess what? Many people that write fanfic are either trans men, straight women, or just straight up attracted to men. Not to mention, maybe some people don't want to deal with the purity culture around Yuri and want something that is devoid of women/being afab as an escape from reality. If you want your Yuri so bad: write it yourself, pay someone to do it, or enjoy what's there instead of hoping that your complaining will guilt someone into making things for you.

Purity culture in Yuri->

[cielettosa]

Popularity does matter and helps measure a characters worth. If they are written well then they generally will be the most popular. Also you should care about popularity seeing how that keeps a conversation going and keeps that character relevant and keeps the fanarts and fandom works coming.

Levi is no longer popular and that just goes to show that he fell off as a character. He had potential to be something great but just left many disappointed. This is why he's no longer the face of aot or the most popular in his show. (Eren took that shit back!!!) This is why he's losing polls to characters like Gojo. He's just not relevant anymore. You're more likely to see Eren and other characters on anime fan creator pages than Levi now. Levi barely pulls in the interactions and likes on twitter whereas Eren and Mikasa are bringing in the numbers. You see Levi used to be the talk of the town and the anime IT boy. He used to be everywhere and if you spoke against him you'd be swarmed. Now that doesn't happen. People just don't care. If you have a character that was that popular and now they're barely talked about, you know something went wrong. You know they fell off and disappointed people because their writing was lacking. So yes I do actually think popularity measures the worth of a character.

Hey, angry warrior.

Here is the thing about throwing shade from the anonymity – it takes about as much courage as a moldy banana peel challenging a hurricane. If your opinions are so earth-shattering, why hide behind anon messages like a frightened internet ghost?

I find it hilarious that you are saying Levi is the one who "had potential to be something great but just left many disappointed" when in reality it is Gojo who has left many disappointed. (Not hate)

Let's talk popularity. You act like it's some holy grail of character worth, this infallible judge of quality.

Newsflash: popularity is fickle. It's a vapid internet windsock, blowing whichever way the latest meme dictates.

Sure, a well-written character with depth can grab attention, but sometimes pure entertainment value steals the show.

The goofy dumb hero with a tragic backstory might not win a Pulitzer, but they keep the popcorn tubs overflowing, right?

Trends shift faster than Kardashians change their hairstyles.

Characters dominating discussions today are yesterday's news tomorrow.

Guts is one of the most well written character of all times, but we rarely see him dominating popularity polls. Because popularity is a snapshot in time, not a mark of quality.

Are Kaneki and Light still relevant online? Maybe, but probably not the first name that pops into someone's head when they think "hottest anime character." Why? Because Tokyo Ghoul and Death Note are not the shiny new toy everyone's playing with anymore.

That doesn't make them bad characters now, does it? Just means Jujutsu Kaisen is the new kid on the block.

Popularity reflects the current hype, not some objective measure of quality.

Now, about that "Levi isn't popular anymore" claim.

Here's a little fact for you: Levi is declared the most popular anime character of all time. Still riding high on My Anime List at number 2, with Eren trailing behind at 13th and your precious Gojo at a respectable 16th.

Funny how you cherry-picked one popularity poll to fit your narrative (Anime Corner 2023), isn't it?

Bet that pinches a bit in your anonymous little corner.

I don't use Twitter (X) now, because that platform lowers the IQ of the entire internet by several notches. Who cares who's trending there? It's a chaotic mess of fleeting opinions and manufactured outrage.

Attack on Titan season four took a sharp turn, shoving Eren into the villain spotlight. His descent into darkness was undeniably intriguing, and I can see why it grabbed people's attention (and mine too). Let's not forget Eren is the protagonist. The entire story revolves around him. Of course his character development and tragic romance with Mikasa would be a focus!

But here's the thing – Levi's popularity doesn't magically disappear because Eren's on the rise. They're both compelling characters in their own right.

In fact "Bad Boy" manga that is going to be released is revolved around Levi.

So, instead of anonymously whining about a perceived decline, why not ditch the negativity and have a real conversation? What makes a character truly tick for you? Is it the emotional depth, the badassery, the hilarious quirks? Let's dissect what truly makes a character shine, instead of resorting to schoolyard taunts about a fictional character.

In the end, Levi's legacy in Attack on Titan is undeniable. He's a fan favorite, a symbol of unwavering strength, and a character who continues to inspire cosplay, fanart, and endless debates. Maybe the hype has shifted a bit, but his impact and popularity on the anime world remains. So, take your anonymous complaints and channel them into something constructive. The internet could use a little less negativity and a lot more genuine discussion about the characters we love, flaws and all.

[saltminerising]

brother ain't nobody say they're entitled to a light sprite. we're just saying that it's dumb as hell that they're not putting the year 1-3 items in joxbox for no real reason other than "we said we wouldn't unretire them" when newsflash, they have said that shit before and then gone back on their word. also putting that stuff in the joxbox likely wouldn't drastically alter their prices. Look at the light halos. it just make sense to put those items in atp

[nickssidewitch]

Since, so many people are hating on the triplets, I want to tell y'all something.

The main reason they get hated is because they call women names. A lot. Which I agree with totally, and people who aren't fans and just randomly come across their content might think otherwise. I think they don't mean to disrespect them, it has just become a bad habit and sometimes they curse without even realizing.

I'm not saying this makes their actions justified, but I think they mean no harm. Non fans or new fans won't understand this too. They are also quite oblivious, and also seem to have an inflated ego. They don't listen to their fans, reasonably so, the majority of them are children. So no one calls them out, and those few that do, go unnoticed. They complain about their young fanbase, yet don't bring any change to it which will attract older fans. Not to mention; empty promises.

In their last video, they were playing a children's game and were calling other players "dumb bitch", "bitch" even going as far as to say "slut". I understand, that sometimes people curse, but they were relentless and they were children too. That was really insensitive of them, especially Nick.

They have the potential to change, and be more mindful of their surroundings and the situations sometimes they're in. But who will tell them?

I understand your first points! Using the word “bitch” is ingrained in their vocabulary. Cursing itself is ingrained in their vocabulary. I understand the point that it can be distasteful to those who are unfamiliar with their content and/or those who take offense to the word itself. A lot of women, especially, take offense to the word “bitch” since it has been used to degrade women since the dawn of the word’s creation.

However, I disagree with your comment about the randoms coming across their videos. if someone comes across their content for the first time and thinks their main use of the word “bitch” is to degrade or belittle women, then they can simply ✨fuck off✨ since everyone who has ever consumed their content, whether they are a fan or not, knows this is very much not the case.

Another point you bring up is they don’t acknowledge when people call them out, which I agree with, and a big example of that is them ignoring being called out for purchasing items from zionist stores and companies that people are actively boycotting from. That’s a big and major problem!! And I’m glad you brought that up! 🤍🙌🏾

The point about the last video though… 😭 I kinda have to laugh, I’m sorry.

The game is Dress to Impress. It’s competitive, and everyone there is pretty much anonymous (unless stated otherwise by them). Any one of any age over 12+ (which is the age stated in the app store) can play Roblox, therefore any one of any age over 12+ can play Dress to Impress. They’re adults— they’re gonna throw some curse words and words of anger out there because they’re simply being competitive and anger/rage is a part of it. It’s never genuine, it’s literally just competitive nature, which is in itself human nature. If there are some kids behind those screens, newsflash: they’re not hearing the boys yell at their screens 😭😭🤷🏾‍♀️ If they happen to see the video and see their characters were a part of the yelling and cursing, it just is what it is 🤷🏾‍♀️.

Nick’s vocabulary is straight outta gay culture and RuPaul’s Drag Race 😭. He’s saying “bitch” and “slut” not to be offensive at all. He’s literally just… a gay being gay. And I’m saying this because I’m also a gay… who is a gay. 😭😭😭 That’s just in gay vernacular, especially when competing. Of course, he can cool it down when he’s being competitive with women, as a lot of women and girls can very much be offended by some white gay man calling them those words. He’s gotta work on dialing that back a bit! 😭

If people take offense to those last things I brought up (other than Nick’s choices of words since that’s understandable at times), that’s on them to be frank. They’re playing a game, they’re being competitive, Nick’s gay, and that’s that. They can just not watch the video again and dislike it if they so please 😭😭🤍.

The triplets definitely need to do a better job with criticisms, of course. Let’s just make sure all of our criticisms hold enough substance. 😭 Much love to you, anon! 🤍🥰 Sorry for the long answer, but thank you for this ask!

[tyranno-solei-rex]

this is gonna get me killed but as a ND person who is a frequent caretaker for much of my autistic family, I think the integration of Asperger's into autism spectrum disorder has irreparably hushed and muted the voices of autistic folks with Any major support needs. people who get "severe asd" on the raads-r have turned a lot of what we perceived as autism into "I don't fit in with the social majority disorder", not "physical neurological disability". it parallels how the commonality of mild depression and anxiety in society masks anyone struggling with severe symptoms [e.g. "yeah well I have depression and my room isn't a trash heap with fruit flies in it, so something else must be wrong with you." or "erm well everyone has anxiety. if I can do it, you can. nobody's talking to you through the walls stop being dumb."]. newsflash, people: lots of individuals who have life-altering, significant autism DO NOT SCORE HIGHLY ON SELF-REPORT MEASURES LIKE THE RAADS. BECAUSE THEY LACK THE SOCIAL AWARENESS TO UNDERSTAND THE DEPTHS OF THEIR DEFICITS. THEY DON'T GET THAT THEY MISS SOCIAL CUES. i mean gosh dang it, my medium support needs, knows-the-independence-days-of-every-single-country, asks-for-the-full-names-of-everyone-he-sees, will-probably-never-get-married-or-live-independently cousin would get a lower score on the raads-r than me, someone who teeters on the edge of diagnosis, because he doesn't realize he's any worse at anything than neurotypical folks. if you understand your deficits, you have enough intelligence and social awareness to feel shame over them, which is a lot more than many autistic people have.

now I hate Hans Asperger. The man was a genocidal, child-killing eugenicist Nazi. but the simultaneous dissolution of Aspergers and the widespread growth of social awareness of autism has led to a mixture that makes people with the smallest of deficits to feel like they're on an even playing field with people like my family, who can't bathe themselves or feed themselves or talk or go outside without assistance. Just Because you have sensory-issues-and-hate-small-talk autism does NOT mean your opinions on autism are as valid or more valid than anyone with high support needs. you need to listen to those people. you and them are not the same. and you never will be. we as a disabled community need to work together, but the voices of those who have the slightest of issues cannot be allowed to speak over those who can't. anyways rant over. tchau

[archangeldyke-all]

heyyy this might sound so dumb but could i ask what a terf is if you don’t mind explaining, i googled it but it didn’t rlly explain it said a few different things

of course! i'm going to use very basic 'men' and 'women' terms, but obviously gender is a spectrum and this is just a generalization to keep things simple.

terf means: trans exclusionary radical feminism. it's a branch of 'feminism' (i'll get to why i put it in quotes later) that believes that gender is completely biological. that men are men because they have penises, and women are women because they have uteruses, and that's it, point blank period, the end.

this mindset completely disregards the existence of intersex people, it disregards countless cultures that have different interpretations and categorizations of gender, and... it's incredibly reductive. it's kind of what feminism has been fighting against this whole time: this strange idea that somehow men and women are inherently different creatures. that's the idea that allows patriarchy to work. the whole 'women are the child bearers, naturally nurturing, have maternal instincts, so men go to work and war because they're so strong and macho...' thing.

most terfs i've seen also fall under the impression that one of the distinct 'biological' differences between men and women is empathy. i've seen so many terfs online cite the horrible, unacceptable behavior of men in their lives as empirical proof that men are biologically incapable of acting right; rather than seeing it as what it is: a result of a horrible, misogynistic culture that allows boys to grow up without ever questioning how they impact the world around them. they call it misandry, like it's this radical act of hating men (newsflash, sisters, almost every woman hates most men, lmaoo) but it's really just a strange way of making themselves feel like the 'superior sex,' while also basically giving men a pass for their shitty behavior.

so, when terfs come to feminist conversations, they are focused on making sure that the only people being advocated for are cis women. now, let me be clear! there is absolutely nothing wrong with advocating for cis women's rights! but when we start getting exclusive with it: when we start saying the only people who should have access to abortions are women, rather than all people who can get pregnant; or we start to say that trans women can't experience misogyny because they can't get pregnant-- that's when things start getting terf-y.

i hope this helped explain some things for you!! also if ur reading this and i didn't include a point u think i should have, feel free to comment more!

[wajjs]

i hate b@tman stans sm...I don't want to see them in my hal jordan tag but they always ruining with b@tlantern (especially hal scared of robins and batfam or simping b so hard)

see the reason I am annoyed at them isn't for the shipping thing itself, even though the ship is literally the only notp I have. For that I can only recommend you to filter / block the tag (tumblr has a setting that lets you do that), and for those who don't tag properly, well, I personally choose to block their blogs.

What annoys me is the constant onslaught of posts that depict Hal as the butt of the joke because they need to make the bats seem cooler or greater or whatever. Or when they use the Batman punching Guy thing as a gotcha to show just how superior their blorbo is (it is not the gotcha they think it is).

The incorrect quotes wouldn't even bother me if they were actually funny!! But they're not!!!! Most of the time they flirt with the line between saying dumb stuff because you don't know the character and character bashing.

Newsflash, if you have to consistently dumb down/get wrong/make the butt of the joke other characters to show just how much better your blorbo is, all that says is that a) you don't know enough about your blorbo and b) maybe your blorbo is not as great as you want them to be 🤷

[adelle-ein]

i've trawled around on a few sites and twitter and reddit are both overwhelmingly making jokes and editing bill clinton with a kippah on and shit. this from people who would probably condemn kanye and claim that they're "allies"

newsflash if you only care about antisemitism when it's both explicitly overt and coming from a black person then you are an antisemite <3

i get not understanding what the guy said at first but once you know what it was i genuinely don't understand how you can mistake it as anything other than antisemitism. calling the clintons jewish is a VERY popular antisemitic conspiracy theory. no matter what info about this guy turns out to be true, that's a fact. he is currently being celebrated by nazis. and he just spouted it out onstage in front of a huge audience now blindly regurgitating it as a "joke" and "meme." and you guys are laughing about it. literally even if that somehow wasn’t his intention (pretty crazy fucking coincidence, but kids are dumb - if he is a kid/teen - and he could just be spouting off something he read online) it’s still extremely bad. it is not something to joke or meme abt. don’t know how much clearer i can make this.

also "reform orthodox" isn't a thing and is just him trying to squeeze more dogwhistles into a sentence. bc i've legitimately seen the most completely smoothbrained takes that "maybe he's jewish and he's just thinking bill clinton as his personal rabbi." "personal rabbis" aren't a thing in judaism and you are extremely stupid and grasping at straws to convince yourself you're not antisemitic for wanting to joke about jews. literally even if he is jewish (i do not trust the source claiming he is) so is ben shapiro. and again "personal rabbis" are not a goddamn thing, a rabbi is a rabbi and nobody would call their personal source of inspiration a rabbi. so that's just inane bullshit lying

even in the absolute best case scenario where a dumb kid said something dumb and was unaware of the implications - intent doesn't matter, nazis are celebrating this kid, and this is really really bad. if you expressed your "allyship" over what kanye said and are joking about this then ig i know how flimsy said allyship is

and no, you cannot "reclaim" this shit, especially if you're not even fucking jewish, and why would you even want to unless you just want open season to make horrible jokes about jews?

if you still want to joke about this then fuck off and block me please

[justsomeoneunordinary]

fanfic pet peeve that i can do nothing abt but just silently grind my teeth in frustration: when in anime fandoms the writers/or just the fandom on tumblr in general uses western-style order of the names instead of putting the family name first

i already hate that in anime dub (or even sub which is so stupid bc we can HEAR it's the other way around) they change it bc they assume kids are too dumb to understand that the family name comes first (newsflash: they're not. the kids would understand it pretty quick and just accept it actually)

but ough when adults in fandom do it? grinds my gears so hard. you know better damnit, why do you do it like this!!!

every time i read madara uchiha or tobirama senju i just sit here and shake in annoyance bc like. no. you are wrong

[kawamagi-crow]

Just saw someone i followed call that girl that explains everything in "girly terms" a "type of person that would claim to be feminist but also relcaim the word bimbo"

Do y'all know the amount of knowledge that takes to simplify complex politics indo metaphors that people can understand? y'all need to understand that not everyone can understand when you say complex shit, but they still deserve to understand the political climate we live in.

Like, girl, just bc it looks stupid to you doesn't mean its not spreading knowledge. not everyone has the political awareness y'all have, so if you went "Oh Capitalism is the opressive economical system that relies in exploration and separation of the workers from the means of production" not everyone would get it. She is explaining in terms that people that don't get it would get it.

Also not to mention the internalized misogyny some of y'all have in relation to hyperfeminine women, ive seen some of y'all say we need to "save women from the wave of hyperfemininity" and it sounds A LOT like what misogynistic men say about feminism.

Just bc a girl likes to "dress like a bimbo" doesn't make her less feminist, and newsflash, men don't like hyperfeminine women either, because guess what? they're regarded as sluts,bimbos and "dumb blondes". they don't dress for MEN, they dress for themselves, just like y'all do.

Liking to party, Having boyfriends and performing your femininity doesn't make you less feminist.

[anivynyx]

Prompt #1

Character A and Character B know eachother since childhood. A likes B but B thinks A is full of themselves, everyone compares them, they're alike in many things but different in many ways. Be it money, status, social status or anything that can be considered competitive.

They always cross eachother's path no matter how much they try to avoid eachother. A likes sports? Heck B likes it too, and like hell will they leave it just because A is there. B likes reading? Hell yeah A likes B and whatever B likes doing, and once they got into reading the stuff B likes, A was into it.

A for some reason was a clueless motherfucker. Yeah thier mothers are bestfriends, so why can't A and B be bestfriends too? A likes B and will do anything that they are capable of and beyond that if it means they can have B's attention or affection.

B never confronted A about disliking them. B just wanted to prove that they are better than A. But that only leads to A and B being the smartest and most achieving students in thier class.

But for all the disliking-ness for A, B can't stand EVER seeing A upset or crying. B can't stand A being sad. B will go on a rampage if A isn't by their side because... A has always been by their side, so why is A stopping now?

A couldn't help but feel the same for B.

A is a clueless motherfucker but isn't dumb, okay? A knows B for whatever reason is a little cold towards A. A gets jealous whenever they see others getting close to B, because why can't A be close to B while others can?

B notices some of these things here and there but doesn't say anything, afterall what can B say?

B likes to prank. Okay, B likes to prank A, because why not? A thinks that they're best at everything, well newsflash B is better.

(Psst. B only likes to prank A whenever B thinks A isn't giving them attention.)

A and B are like two sides of the same coin. They have been together, have known eachother, since B was with thier mother outside waiting while A's mother was giving birth to A.

Somehow A and B are always around eachother, like twin stars. If you see A, B is probably around somewhere but not far.

They were bestfriends when they were toddlers and growing, but over time they grew apart, or rather B started pulling away from A.

... And A? A can't not have B in their life, A will always chase after B, and nothing and no one can change that.

What will it take for B to realise their feelings for A?

This is just an innocent idea for a story?/fanfic/ or literally anything you want it to be.

I picked up some things from some shows and anime if you could tell, I just wanted to word/write it out.

Do tell if there are already stories like this dynamic out there I'd like to read it out.

I'd like it if you use it, but I'm pretty sure something like this is already out, but if not you can tag me in your post/story/reblog, if this gave you any inspiration for writing.

[m3r1m4r5u333]

(Okay I'm kinda copying my tumblr info here. It was kinda inspired by the 9-1-1 fandom so.)

I keep seeing these huffy posts about how the random has reacted to the sperm donor storyline. And how the fandom 'should' actually react.

A friendly reminder: the show is a DRAMA. People watch it for the drama. Because people ENJOY drama.

You may not be like me... but storylines about sensible people making politically correct, sensible choices freaking bore me. For example... I do not WANT every ship I follow to go through the same, sensible, healthy steps. You know:

1. They meet. 2. They become friends. 3. They fall in love. 4. They confess their feelings to each other. 5. They get married. 6. They have kids.

Wow, what a wild journey these relationship robots just went through! I'd send them a wedding gift but I can't because the boredom just killed me.

Seriously, people want STORIES. New stories! It's not a story if it always follows the same steps. Sure, I won't mind if those steps are the way to canon, but sometimes I'd actually be thrilled to see another, less well-adjusted, less explored, more unusual path lead to canon relationship.

So YES I will post wild, dumb shit like "ooh what if Buck donates sperm and ends up with the baby because the parents died horribly!! and then buddie gets together because they're now parenting two kids!!".

It does not mean I'm ignorant about real-life laws regarding guardianship and next-of-kin. It does not mean I think that biological parents are actually the 'true' parents in this scenario, or that I'm unaware of how cruel, misinformation spreading, or problematic my excitement is to you.

Newsflash: Sometimes people know the realities of some topic or another. Sometimes people know what's 'healthy' development for a character or relationship, and what's not...

AND THEN CHOOSE TO IGNORE THOSE IDEAS, WILLINGLY. So sue me... but the 'ignorance' I display is often an actual, informed ✨CHOICE✨. That I've knowingly made. Despite how 'problematic' it is to you or even me.

Because I am in fact a nerd. I do enjoy learning things. I do know stuff. But if we're talking about art, humor, stories, fandoms and shipping...?

I like to know the realities... and then find a route around them. No, I don't and won't always explain the leaps I've made to get to my wild scenarios. (I've got ADHD btw, people will always keep missing the mental leaps I make.)

That does not mean I'm automatically unaware I had to make some leaps and create some kind of a plausible head canon for why the characters are now growing apple trees on Saturnus of whatever.

So just consider the possibility that the people who sound so deranged/ignorant/'disgusting' to you may actually be fully aware of the issues and implications some choice or topic withholds.

Maybe people are excited by the struggles they know are likely to follow. Maybe they just trust that the writers know what they're doing. Maybe they have a better imagination than you do and have come up with something that makes the following storyline make sense. Maybe they don't actually mind if all goes to shit for the characters.

Whatever. My point is, get off your high horse. You're no better than the people who get giddy about a "messed up" storyline that's coming up.

Because everyone ENJOYS seeing fictional characters struggle. We often think we don't but really, if you wanted zero drama you wouldn't be watching the show, you'd be watching... Teletubbies. Or a wall.

Honestly, it's impossible to tell a good story without introducing a problem. Sometimes the characters win the struggles, sometimes they don't. Either way, it's a story.

And sometimes the characters learn from their mistakes and that's thrilling... But you know what, it's also interesting if they don't. Because even if a character makes bad choices and learns nothing... WE learn. It's a story. It's purpose is to keep the boredom at bay.

[snezhnayan-nights]

Ayup lads! 🌺 for ask game!

- Vale (osddtraumagenic)

If you could help the pro endo community understand one thing, what would it be?

Ooh man, unfortunate that it can only be one. So I'd have to hit multiple birds with one stone with this answer. Maybe I'll have multiple answers instead, screw what the question asked.

The first thing is well, not all information that supports you is true and/or reliable to use, and it's really not great to twist something vague/cut context out to suit you. I am very much directing this to the people who link "proof" of endogenic plurality being like, actually researched or "scientifically proven", using the DSM of all things, or something of the sorts.

Not to be mean or harsh, but I find it a little dumb and very ironic that they're trying to prove something they've always explained as something not medical and sometimes can't even be scientifically proven! And, what benefit do they get by proving DID/OSDD-1 aren't trauma-based? They talk about plurality not being medical and they're using medical stuff to prove it? Consistency where??

Second thing, sometimes even if you have to question whether you're something or not, does NOT automatically mean you are that thing (and that's okay). I hear this one, several times, and have said it before myself (as much as my ego hates to admit it). Newsflash, finding out whether you're a system or plural or whatnot, is not easy as you make it to be!

I'm still at the phase of "is this me being a system or is this something else", and also being frightened to be wrong because of what I like, learned and adopted when I first started getting into plural/system spaces. So like, no, pro-endo community, it's not as easy as you make it out to be.

Third thing; I understand microlabels are nice and all, but I don't think that would a -genic term, that would be a -based term. Like, a LOT of xeno-origins are described like -based terms (as in terms that are like x influences how a system functions, exists, etc, but is not its origin), and I just want to say it so badly, but I couldn't until now. Do they understand the difference between origin and influence? Can the xeno-origin coiners stop making me confused? (This one is just a minor pet peeve but I really wanted to talk about this at some point)

I think I can stop my rambling there. Thanks for the ask!

[aikoiya]

I read a comment about something recently & I'll be honest, I 100% agree.

Gender & preferred pronouns ARE being treated as personality & character rather than what they actually are, which are labels.

Your gender has very little to do with your personality. Your pronouns have nothing to do with the contents of your character.

They are just words to describe your biology.

They are impersonal.

There is no need to put so much weight behind them. They are unimportant beyond descriptors.

Gender is just a statement of biological fact & it contributes nothing to the discussion beyond the information itself.

It's the same as saying, "oh, he has red hair," or "she has blond hair." It means very little beyond a simple statement of biology & is thus unimportant beyond that simple statement.

Sure, there are a few things that being a guy or a girl can imply, but that doesn't make them correct.

Just like how saying redheads are feisty, blonds are fun, & brunettes are smart doesn't necessarily make it true.

All being a guy means is that you were born with a penis. All being a chick means is that you were born with a vagina.

THAT IS IT!!! That's all it means! It doesn't mean that you're locked into liking monster trucks even though you hate monster trucks! It doesn't mean that you have to watch Barbie movies even though you think Barbie is a dumb bitch!

It just means you have an outtie or an innie!

You should not treat gender as your defining character trait. Mainly because it isn't a character trait in any capacity. As such, if your entire personality, your entire existance, hinges on the fact that you're non-binary or tri-gender or cake gender, then you are a VERY sad individual.

In all honestly, gender is, quite possibly, THE least interesting part of a person. Sure, it might get you in the door as far as dating goes, but if you spend more than that initial half a second discussing it, then I am already on my way out the door because I can not be bothered. If you tell me your gender, then have to give me a story explaining your gender, then I do not have the bandwidth for it. Just goodbye.

In fact, the fact that you need to clarify what your gender is in the first place is already a red flag for me, so I might just be glancing at the exit already. These things should be implicit, so if there's any confusion about this at all, then already you are asking me to spend too much brain power on something that should barely even be thought about & I am not for that. I have other, more important, things to think about.

I should be able to just look at a person & be like, "ah! That is a woman" just from observing their overall appearance & be correct.

But, guess what?? You can't!

Here's a newsflash; IT DOESN'T MAKE YOU SPECIAL!! IT DOES NOT MAKE YOU UNIQUE!! AND IT MOST DEFINITELY DOES NOT MAKE YOU INTERESTING!! It just makes you another headache in a long series of headaches!

It also shouldn't matter what you identify as. If you have an innie, you go to the girls & if you have an outtie, you go to the boys. You wanna go to the other one, then I'm sorry, but you shouldn't be able to until you've had bottom surgery.

In fact, if gender is fluid & I can identify as whatever I want, then how about the next time I need to go to the bathroom, I decide that I identify as a pigeon, & that means that it gives me full clearance to shit on YOUR shoes & YOU can do nothing about it because that's MY TRUTH. And if you tell me that I can't do that because they're your shoes, then I'll just coo at you because, remember, pigeons don't talk & I'm specifically a wild pideon, so I don't understand human. From a pigeon's perspective, everywhere is their bathroom.

Sorry, I don't make the rules!