#but as of now I think I'm done with the show

[idestroysociety]

And not only that, but it's being hinted at by the writers that Shauna will overtake the role of Antler Queen anyway during this season. Or will at least be fighting Natalie over it... She would be losing her purpose in the only place she was ever even given one to begin with. Thinking about how the other yellowjackets ignored her during the pilot but she was eventually considered useful to them via the gun—the thing that also initially destroyed a sense of stability and structure for her (family). There is a lot to say about specifically her being the hunter and specifically her taking the role of a teacher/leader. To me, it does feel like the way her father died will be referenced in her relationship to Gen now... somehow. Maybe I'm reaching but the reason Natalie failed to kill her dad the first time was because she had to be taught how to use a gun by him. Her purpose being directly tied into death is, I'd say, also why she's the most visibly suicidal one out of all; death WAS to some extent her purpose, killing animals, people... her suicide attempt being carried out by a gun could be her returning to her purpose. Making herself useful by killing herself with it because her purpose was to kill things with it

like im sorry what do you mean natalie pulled her friends, her people, from starvation and winter into a flourishing community. what do you mean she taught gen to hunt and helped akilah raise animals and built them a garden. what do you mean she led her teammates out of fire and into a beautiful home and tried to help them put their hurt and pain behind them. and then they got rescued and none of that fucking mattered anymore. they got rescued and she lost her purpose. only it wasn't just her purpose as the hunter, it was her purpose as their leader, as their guide, as the one who brought them back from the brink. what the fuck.

[heyimkana]

Currently thinking about... how break-up sex would go with JJK men...

Like what if, even though you're both so in love with each other, the situation you're in right now forces you to break up with them. They'll try to fight about it, of course, you're crazy about each other, after all. But you insist on breaking up, even going as far as to tell them that you don't love them anymore just so they'll believe you. And before you say goodbye, you ask them to hold you one last time.

Satoru would be quiet. Sex was always fun with him. rough, fast, exhausting, but never boring. Sex with him was always filled with laughter, giggles, and playful kisses that would end with gasps and moans but your last time with him would be quiet. So quiet, in fact, that you could probably hear the sound of him gritting his teeth while he was fucking you from behind, all because he was trying to stop himself from saying, "This is a joke. This must be a joke. We play tricks on each other all the time. You're just trying to get back at me, aren't you, baby? There's no way you don't love me anymore. But even if you do, I don't care. I had let someone go a long time ago and I'd spent years of my life regretting it. I'm not letting you go, not now, not ever. You're staying. No, I'll make you stay." He wouldn't look at you when he fucked you, not once, as he was actually scared that you truly hated him then. But it wouldn't matter if you did. He was never going to let you go.

Suguru would listen with his stoic face intact when you told him that you wanted to break up with him. And softly, he'd ask you why, and you'd lie and tell him that you just didn't love him anymore and his eyes would turn cold as he looked at you, trying to read between your lies and you were scared that he'd know the truth. And if you told him that you wanted him to hold you one last time, he would smile and say, "Sure." but it felt so eerie that you had goosebumps breaking on your skin. Suguru would drag you out of the bed, tear open your dress and his grip was hard enough to leave bruises on your skin but he would still be smiling, even when you flinched in pain. "You like it better like this anyway, right?" he'd say as he fucked you standing up from behind with his fingers wrapped around your neck. He'd have you stand in front of a mirror, making sure to see the pathetic face you made every time he fucked you stupid. He'd show you that you were his in every way possible, making sure you understand that you were going to fucking regret it if you decided to leave him.

Yuuji would be so confused. He'd be confused when you kissed him after you said you didn't love him anymore. He'd be confused when you still hugged him afterward, and kissed his neck, and tugged onto his shirt before you pulled it over his head. He'd be confused when you asked him to hold you one last time, and he wouldn't say anything when you pushed him down to the bed. It was only when you sat on his lap, trying to slide his cock inside that he'd stop you. "No, wait, I can't do it," he would say, unable to look at you because suddenly, tears started to brim in his eyes. "If you're going to leave me after we're done, I can't do it. I love you. I don't know why you suddenly changed your mind about me, but I'm still in love with you and I don't think I can love anyone else but you. You'll break me if you do this, so please..." His voice would break and he would hug you close, his chin placed on your shoulder, his voice, sketched with the tears he was trying to hold back, reverberating right in your ear. "Please stop and tell me. I'm an idiot so I'm very slow at figuring things out and I don't know if I hurt you and I'm sorry but... I want to understand... Why...? Why are you leaving me? Am I... not enough for you?"

Megumi would not do it. He wouldn't kiss you. He wouldn't touch you. He'd only clench his jaw and ball his fingers into fists the second the words "I don't love you anymore" flowed past your lips. And when you tried to kiss him, he'd take a step back, his voice deep when he asked you, "Have I done something wrong?" You'd shake your head no, saying "It's not because of you, Megumi. It's me—" and he'd cut you off with a "Don't give me that bullshit." He'd raise his voice, but only because he was shaking inside. "If that's true, then tell me what it is! Whatever you did, I'll forgive you. If it's a part of you that you think is the problem, I'll accept it. If it's the situation we're in, let me know so I can fix it. Don't just show up and tell me you don't love me anymore, don't—" he took a breath, his voice breaking at the end. His face would twist in heartbreak when he finally gathered the strength to look at you in the eyes. His voice would soften when he continued, "Don't tell me you're leaving me. Please."

Yuuta would feel a thousand emotions at once. For the first few minutes when you told him you didn't love him anymore, he'd keep asking you, "Why? Was it something I said? What did I do wrong? How can I make this right? Please. Tell me. Tell me so I can fix everything." And you'd see tears glazing his eyes and he would look so frightened, so heartbroken, unable to believe that the love of his life was slipping out of his fingers. When you told him, "It doesn't matter, Yuu. I just can't do this anymore." Yuuta would panic, colors leaving his face and he'd start begging, "No, please, you can't leave me. I don't know what I'd do without you. You're my everything, please don't do this to me, please tell me how to make things right," and it was breaking your heart seeing him like this so you'd try to distract him by kissing him.

He'd whimper against your mouth, cupping your face with both hands, still whispering, "Don't leave me" again and again. He'd slowly regain his composure, his body melting under your kiss and when you started touching him, he'd respond with as much passion, love, and desire as he usually offered you, not knowing that it was going to be his last time with you. It was only when he was holding you in his arms, your legs tangled around his waist, his mouth slicked with your cum, his hips thrusting slow but deep, that you told him the truth, "This is going to be our last time."

Yuuta would freeze, his eyes turning round in both surprise and horror, but after that... You'd find your body folded in half, your head trapped between your knees, your jaw hanging low on your face, unable to even scream his name as he was fucking the breath out of you. His usually delicate moans would turn into heavy grunts, and he'd bunch the sheets under his fingers before he grabbed your wrists and pinned them to the bed, holding them with one hand as he used his other one to grip firmly onto the back of your thigh, pushing you up even further so he could bury himself deep inside you.

"You're not leaving me," he'd breathe out. "I won't let you. We promised each other we'd be together until we die. I won't let you break it." He'd kiss you, rough and messy, smothering you with it. He'd see a hint of fear written in your eyes, maybe you'd even cry a little from how rough he was being with you, but he'd kiss the tears away, his smile looking both beautiful and terrifying when he said, "Don't worry, Sweetheart. There's nothing to be afraid of. No one will love you better than me, I promise you. And if anyone dares to come between us," he'd angle your face to the side, lick a stripe up your neck before he let his smile graze your ear.

"I'll fucking kill them."

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 11

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, sexual content (smut), uhh badly proofread Wordcount: 7.7K A/C: hii i know i know i promised this yesterday but i nearly had a panic attack so i couldn't, my bad. i'm good now! please enjoy this before paige's last game at XL :((

-

Before London

“So as everyone can see, here we have a list of statistics showing the viewership per video and definitely can see an increase from last year, content with Paige seems to do extremely well like we…”

Linda’s voice blends into the background sounds of cutlery and plates and chatter filling the dining hall. For some reason my boss thought an impromptu media team meeting was in order and showed up to College Park Center unannounced. She wanted to catch up on what sort of content attracted most viewership, and to evaluate what worked and what didn’t. I couldn’t have cared less - all I knew is I was doing a good job, fantastic even. I’m not sure why I had to sit through something I already knew just to have Linda reiterate it to me. It wasn’t like me to be resistant to a meeting, or to praise from my superior but I was far too distracted.

My eyes involuntarily keep travelling to the table on the far right where Paige was sitting with her teammates, voice echoing around the walls of the building. A sound I fear I might never get tired of. The blonde is leaning back on her chair, chugging water, biceps more prominent than usual after spending all morning in the weight room. I knew this because she had driven me to work, despite having time off saying she needed to lift. I knew it wasn’t in her schedule as I had, almost accidentally, memorised it. Still there she had been, outside my door with a hazelnut latte, always somehow the perfect temperature whenever she brought me my coffee order. I hated when it was too hot.

As if sensing me, her blue eyes shift from Arike to me, locking with my gaze. Immediately I blush, trying to hide the smirk growing onto my face. But I can’t, so I cover my mouth with my hand to hide it from the team, particularly Linda, Paige’s mouth twisting into a bright smile in response. Yet we don’t break eye contact, keeping our eyes on each other.

Linda had been surprisingly credulous to my claims of a migraine when I missed work just a couple days ago. Since the night the blonde turned my entire world on its head. I hadn’t been able to think of anything ever since except the weight of her lips on my skin, her eager touch and starved eyes. I had been craving her every second since we drove back to Dallas. I needed more. As much as it pained me to admit.

With a grin on her face, Paige grabs her phone and types for a while, my screen lighting up with a notification.

Paige

Did i say how beautiful you look today yet

I blush, tapping underneath the table.

You did. A few times in the car.

Matter of fact she had been repeating it between sentences, and almost crashed the car twice because of how badly she had been staring.

Gotta tell you again

Takin my breath away all the way from over there

Finest girl I swearrrrr

I can’t help but smile.

You look like you’re breathing fine 🙄

I lift my gaze, seeing the blonde rubbing her chest and looking at her phone with a smirk.

Trust me ma

What Linda doin here?

Some sort of unnecessary meeting, I’m not sure why.

What time you getting off work?

I have a couple things to do after this but if you’re done you can go home, I’ll take a cab.

Fuck no i’ll wait

I could do some stretchin

You should join me

I let out a silent chuckle, shaking my head to myself.

Paige!!

What??? Would be good for those tense muscles yk

Could think of sum other stuff to relax you too 😏😏

With a scoff I glance at the blonde who’s already looking with a playful, devilish grin. I look at her scoldingly, watching as she raises her brows and bites her lower lip to kill the smile before pointing at her phone, showing me she wants me to reply.

Why do I have an idea of what that might be?

Yeah? 

“So what do you think Izara?” Linda asks, snapping me back to reality.

“Uhh… Of?” I murmur, placing my phone screen down onto the table, thighs burning with the memory of how good the blonde had made me feel just a few days before.

“Do you think we can reach our goal followers-wise or are we being too ambitious?”

I quickly pull myself together, though I’ve barely heard a word. “Certainly if we keep pumping out content every day.” I don’t actually even know what goal we’re talking about.

However, my answer satisfies Linda, her mouth twisting into a smile. “Excellent!”

“Excuse me,” I hum, getting up from the table to grab an extra bottle of water. Paige, who has been watching, does the same, unable to not take advantage of the opportunity to talk to me.

I feel a gentle bump on my arm, eyes immediately snapping to the girl who’s looking smug as I eye the bottles.

“Hey pretty girl,” she whispers, placing a hand on my lower back. I quickly glance back at the media team to make sure no one was looking. To my relief they’re all too busy leaning in to stare at Trey who’s showcasing our latest content on his phone.

“Hey you,” I reply, my voice soft, quiet so no one can hear. Paige stands behind me, eyes skimming the different bottles of drinks as if mulling over her decision on what to get. But I know better. She’s stalling to stay talking to me. We had barely had any time to spend alone, my mind too busy wrapped up with work, Paige spending every waking moment on the court trying to get her shot back.

“What are you doing tonight?” I ask, reaching over for the bottle and holding it in my hand. Paige thinks for a second, grabbing a bottle of gatorade. All I can do is stare at her hands, mesmerised. Perfect hands that made me feel so incredible.

“Uhh nothing, why?”

“I’m coming over.”

Paige’s ears turn red, as she clears her throat, the idea immediately getting the younger girl flustered.

“Y-Yeah okay Iz,” she whispers, voice trembling a little. The effect I have on the girl makes me smile. It pleased me to know I had so much power over her. Little did she know she held just as much power over me, I was just much better at hiding it. However, my cheeks turn a hint of pink thinking about the possibilities of what might happen once we get a moment alone.

“Okay Paige,” I smile, eyes stuck on her flushed face. “I’ll see you in a couple hours.”

-

Waiting a couple hours had turned out to be much harder than I had planned, the thought of Paige’s hands on my body enough to have me growing wet in a matter of minutes. I couldn’t bear to wait a moment longer to feel the younger girl on me. Paige had felt the same, which had led us to our current predicament, my back pushed against the door of the storage room, the girl kissing my neck feverishly as my hands roam her body. The door handle digs into my lower back painfully but I barely notice.

“Paige,” I whimper, but she silences me with a heated kiss, tongue slipping past my lips into my mouth. My kisses are needy, desperate, a quiet moan spilling out when Paige’s hand kneads my ass, my short skirt hiking up as she does.

“You’re so sexy ma,” the blonde groans, lips glistening as she pulls back to look at me. “Killing me in a skirt like that.”

“Wore it for you,” I tease. Paige melts, moaning just from my words.

My arms wrap around her shoulders as I pull her back into a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss by her hair. The blonde groans, lifting my skirt to squeeze the bare skin underneath, eyes opening to see the purple silk panties I was wearing. I hadn’t been prepared for the first time we slept together the way I liked to be, but after a meeting with my wax lady and a vigorous exfoliation routine last night I was prepared for her, my skin silky and smooth all for her from my head to my toes.

“Look at that,” she whispers, pulling back enough to admire the underwear sitting against my golden skin. “Goddamn.”

“Want you,” I hum, looking at her with round, pleading eyes. Paige takes a deep breath through her nose, groaning as she throws her head back. I know I’m driving her insane.

“We can’t,” she mumbles, rubbing the bridge of her nose in frustration. I’m taken back, slightly embarrassed. I never thought she’d reject me.

“Why not?”

Paige notices the surprise in my face, her blue eyes widening. “No, I want to. So fucking bad, you got no idea baby,” she starts, looking me up and down.

“Then what’s the problem?” I ask, getting annoyed which in turn makes my brows furrow.

“Iz I can’t just keep sleeping with you,” she sighs. “You’re more than that. You deserve more.”

I shake my head, pulling Paige back in by her sweaty T-shirt. She kisses me softly, nuzzling her nose into mine.

“I don’t care. I want you,” I repeat, the ache between my thighs nearly unbearable.

“I care,” the girl whispers, resting her forehead on mine. “Need to take you out on a date before we… y’know.”

I’m surprised, my eyes fluttering open.

“Need to do this right Izzie,” she hums, kissing the top of my head. “Need to take you out before I do all the things I’ve been dying to do to you.”

I nearly collapse at her words, grateful for the strength of her grip on my hips.

“Oh,” I say, feeling the blonde pull my skirt back down hesitantly.

“Please, lemme treat you right ma,” she pleads, kissing both my cheeks softly. “Lemme take you out. Been dying to, ever since I saw you. Please.”

-

Taking a deep breath, I look at my reflection in the mirror once more. White shorts and a white oversized button up, both neatly pressed not a single wrinkle on them. I’ve really gotten tan here. I lean closer to add the signature diamond studs onto my ears, smoothing over the hair slicked back into a low bun. I check my nails one more time, making sure each one is short and filed up to my standards. No, not mine. Up to Izzie’s standards. I look good, I wanted everything to be perfect for her. For my gorgeous, perfect London girl.

I grab the huge bouquet of white lilies and head downstairs, toying with my silver chain as I knock on the door. I don’t remember the last time I had been nervous over a girl before Izzie. So much for my plans to stay celibate this season. Like clockwork, the door opens.

I feel breathless when I see her. She’s wearing a bronze coloured satin dress, the perfect contrast against her skin, with spaghetti straps and a slightly plunging neckline, her breasts on display just enough to make me wanna look for a little too long. The dress isn’t too tight, clinging to her curves in all the right places, the hem ending at her calves. Her skin glows from her arms decorated with gold bracelets, all the way down to her calves and feet, beautifully arched in matching sandals. Izzie looks stunning, glowing with the power of a hundred suns.

I let out a low whistle, unsure what to say. I feel flustered, nervous in front of her. It was as if I was seeing her for the first time all over again, two months ago in this same hallway. 

“Whoa,” is all I can say, my palms sweating already.

Izzie giggles and then she does something I’ll never get over. She simply tilts her head, sharp eyes sparkling at me, slender fingers reaching over and fixing the collar of my shirt. And my knees nearly buckle.

“We don’t need to go out,” I mutter, leaning down to kiss the girl. But she tuts softly, pulling back and placing two fingers on my chin to stop me sternly.

“Lipgloss,” she grins, pushing my face back by my jaw playfully. “And yes we do, took me three hours to get ready.”

I can see that, every strand of her black hair carefully set in uniform waves running down her back. All I can do is stare at her, mouth open.

“Paige?” Izzie giggles.

“What?” I ask, cheeks bright red.

“The flowers?”

I glance down at the bouquet in my hand, handing them to the girl. “Oh yeah, these are for you,” I laugh awkwardly, nearly unable to look the girl in the eye.

“I love lilies,” she gleams, inhaling their scent and humming contentedly.  

“I know, you told me,” I smile, stepping in as she turns her back on me to put the flowers in a vase. My eyes travel from her hair downwards to the curve of her ass just for a moment, fighting the urge to pull up the hem and dive between her legs. I quickly glance up, trying to keep myself in check. Date first. Be respectful.

“You remembered,” Izzie smiles to herself, setting the flowers onto her dining table. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

The girl turns to me, throwing her hands around my shoulders and kissing me lovingly. 

“What about your lipgloss?” I mumble against her lips, one hand on her lower back, the other on her neck pulling her in.

“I’ll reapply,” she sighs. I loved the way she was, meticulous and disciplined. But my God did I adore the way she had loosened up around me, the way she seemed to have a newfound ease about her. How she arrived to work yesterday wearing pants and flats, giggling with her co-workers lightheartedly, the pearls of her laughter echoing around every room she entered. 

“Shit,” I pull back from the kiss with a struggle. “I got us a car baby, we should go.”

Iz whines in a way that pulls at my heartstrings, her brows furrowing in desperation, tracing her fingers up and down my arms, squeezing my biceps that had grown exponentially during my time in the league.

“You look so gorgeous,” Izzie hums, smoothing over my collar one last time, leaning close and pressing a kiss onto my collarbone. My eyes flutter shut momentarily.

“C’mon,” I sigh. “If we don’t go now we ain’t ever gon leave.”

-

“Paige,” I gasp as she opens the car door for me and I realise where we are. 

“What? You like?” The blonde grins, offering her hand to help me out and watching my face for approval. I step onto the pavement, wrapping my arm around hers as we walk into the building, the doorman letting us in with a polite smile. We step into the gorgeous, high-end restaurant, Paige smoothly letting the hostess know that we had arrived. 

I had mentioned Monarch countless times in conversation, brought up how the customer from Dallas that left an irrevocable mark on me made me swear to dine there at least once in my life. It was on the pricier side, and I’d grown used to a certain lifestyle which my current pay couldn't maintain so I had been burning through my savings - it simply wasn’t in the budget. Except now, with this millionaire girl on my arm I suppose it did. Truthfully, I would’ve been happy with less. But I won’t lie that she really hit the nail on the head with this one. I mean she listened. Remembering my brother’s name, my favourite flower, now this? She really listened to me. I didn’t know it could be like this.

“Paige,” is all I can mutter out with a happy sigh, my mouth twisting to a smile. Paige tugs at her silver chain absentmindedly, her eyes flickering around the room before always landing back on me.

I slide myself into the booth, Paige following behind me, making me laugh.

“Paige, your plate is on that side,” I giggle, pointing to the set cutlery opposite of me. 

“I’ll ask em to move it over here,” she mumbles, her arm snaking around my waist and pulling me close so my side presses into hers, the pressure of her thigh on mine.

“Isn’t that gonna look a little silly?” I chuckle, watching as Paige reaches over the table and moves her entire table arrangement next to mine. I blush, looking around hoping no one noticed. This was a nice place. I could tell it wasn’t the blonde’s scene. Something about that made this even more endearing. It was all for me.

“Ion care if it does, it’s too far from you,” she whines, entangling her fingers with mine underneath the table. My eyes land on her blue ones, her face only a few inches from me. Paige licks her lips, her gaze flickering to my lips. I feel a familiar ache between my thighs return just from the sheer proximity of the blonde, and the smell of her cologne.

“Wanna kiss you so bad right now,” she whispers, both our breathing growing heavy. I nod, wanting the same. But we both knew it was better not to. After Luka was traded out of Dallas Paige was one of the biggest athletes in the entire city. A household name easily. We weren’t just sneaking around behind Linda’s back, we had to keep this on the low from the whole world. It’s not like we had to talk about it - we both knew it.

“Gotta wait,” I hum, jumping slightly as the waiter interrupts the moment, looking to take our orders. Paige, in her American manner, orders multiple side dishes and salads for us to share, the table filled with Wagyu Carpaccio and Octopus. But the real star of the night is the lamb, which the customer made me swear to get if I ever ended up at Monarch.

“Oh my Gosh,” I groan quietly, letting the meat melt into my mouth. I smooth the napkin on my lap, the luxurious linen smooth underneath my palm. Taking a sip of my Merlot, I notice Paige beside me, cutting the gorgeous lamb into multiple bite-size pieces before putting the knife down and beginning to eat with the fork. I watch, astonished, amused and embarrassed at the same time.

“You are so American,” I laugh, swallowing the wine and covering my mouth. The younger girl turns to me, confused.

“Whatchu mean?” She giggles but I eye her plate, rolling my eyes.

“Can you not eat with a fork and a knife at the same time?” I ask, raising my brows. Paige huffs, though the small curl a the corner of her mouth tells me she’s basking in my slightly condescending tone, the scolding lilt of my voice.

“Guess you’ll have to teach me your fancy English ways huh?”

“Oh my Gosh,” I sigh amused.

“The fork is in the wrong handddd,” she complains, continuing to eat, fork on the right hand. I make a mental note to teach her table manners before she meets my parents. Then, realising that she never would, decide to stay quiet. This is just a fling, a summer romance at most. A rebound - it’s what I tell myself to ease the slight panic in my chest when I thought more about what the end of the season would bring, me going back home to London, leaving my American girl here. My one summer in Dallas, cruel and much too short. Just a few months is all we’d ever get. Against my nature, I try not to worry about it, hoving the anxiety to some deep, dark corner of my mind, under all the other things I didn’t want to deal with.

The moment I notice my glass is empty, the blonde is already reaching for the jug of water and pouring me some. I watch closely, heart fluttering with affection.

-

Dinner is amazing, a dream come true. The food, of course, delicious. But even better is the satisfied smile on the dark haired girl’s face. The way her eyes gleamed every time she looked at me. The sound of her sweet laughter whenever I did anything she redeemed “American”. The slightly condescending manner with which she corrected my table manners, praising me every time I did something right. Every cell in me wanted to please her. Hear more of her “good job” and “that’s it”. Feel the hand on my shoulder squeezing, affirming her words. I was ecstatic, even more so knowing that this was just the first of many dates. That I would get to take Izara out for years to come, hear her praises forever if I played my cards right. And I desperately wanted this to be forever. I know I was going way too fast. But I couldn’t help my mind from picturing her in a white dress, playing with our children, waiting for me at home after practice.

“I’m so full,” Izzie sighs, leaning back against the booth and rubbing up and down my arm affectionately. “You did so good with this darling.”

I melt, my eyes nearly rolling back at her praise, never mind the pet name.

“Lemme order you some dessert,” I nearly whine, my plate finished much earlier than Izara’s.

The girl leans over and checks the dessert menu, quickly skimming it over and scrunching her face.

“You too full baby?”

“Could we just go out and get some ice cream from a stand?” The girl asks, her green eyes fluttering at me. How could I ever say no?

“You sure? They got some nice dessert here. Fancy,” I ask, flipping the menu over in my hand. I wanted the girl to have whatever she wanted. I wanted to give her the entire world.

Izzie nods, placing her hand on my thigh. “Don’t want fancy, just want some ice cream.” I’m surprised, thinking the fancier the better. Maybe I was wrong.

-

The Dallas night is still as hot as the day, but there’s a pleasant breeze in place of the scorching sun from earlier. Izara looks even more beautiful in the glow of the city lights and under the twinkling night sky. I can’t tear my eyes away, nearly running into a pole from staring at her so much.

“Could I taste yours?” Izzie asks, handing me her chocolate ice cream cone. Wordlessly, without hesitation, I give her my strawberry cone, honestly ready to turn around and order five more of them for her.

I watch closely as Izara’s tongue darts out to taste the ice cream, a jolt running down my spine to my core, with dirty thoughts flooding my mind.

“Mmh, this is delicious,” she murmurs.

“Take it,” I say without hesitation. Izzie hums, accepting my offer quickly. Almost as if she expected it. Something about it drove me wild.

We walk around the city, hand in hand, easily blending in with the crowd, not worrying about familiar faces, making sure that with every turn I was walking on the street side, keeping her safe. I felt proud walking side by side with Izara, knowing that people walking by knew she was all mine. That I got a girl like this, far from my league. I wanted everyone to know that she’s mine - having to keep this hidden would turn out to be much harder than I imagined. Still, the idea of this being our little secret felt exciting.

The breeze and the ice cream cause goosebumps to form all over Izzie’s arms, a slight chill running through her. I curse myself in my head for not bringing a sweater, making a mental note to never go anywhere without one for her from now on.

“You ever miss London?” I ask, pulling her closer by her waist out of the way of someone walking by.

“No,” she quickly replies, surprisingly bluntly. I’m taken aback.

“Not at all?”

Izzie shakes her head. “Too many bad things in London.”

I immediately understand what she means. Jasper. At least the desperate phone calls had seemed to stop.

“You really don’t miss anything?”

The dark haired girl thinks for a while. “Well, I miss the chocolate. Nothing here tastes like Cadbury.”

We walk around, eager to finish the chocolate ice cream Iz ordered, but I slow down, trying to match the pace with which she’s eating out of politeness. My blue eyes roam her face, trying to memorise each little detail. Her dark, perfectly arched brows, long lashes darkened with mascara, plump lips with only a hint of the lipstick from earlier, fading from eating the ice cream. Her dark curls stick to her neck, desperate to escape the carefully shaped waves, golden necklace dangling at her collarbone. I reach over, my cold fingers making the girl jump when they adjust the clasp, dragging against her skin from the base of her neck to the back.

We come to a stop, Izara’s green eyes lined with black glimmering, her face turning different colors as ads flash red, blue, green on a screen by the sidewalk. The words spill from between my lips faster than I can think, let alone stop myself.

“I really like you Iz,” I murmur, looking into the girl’s eyes. “I mean, I think I’m fallin’ for you.”

Her breath hitches, eyes softening only for a moment, and then widening. With surprise? With panic? I’m not sure. I wouldn’t blame her. It wasn’t something you said on a first date. I wanted to smack the back of my own head for that. I quickly look up, in a momentary prayer hoping God would let me rewind just 20 seconds. But no one answers my request.

“Shit, I’m sorry if it’s too much. You don’t gotta say anything okay?” I tell Izzie, avoiding her gaze.

“It’s okay love,” she smiles, thumb brushing against my skin comfortingly. However, I see a hint of hesitation on her face. “But Paige I thi-”

“Look, let’s just forget I said that aight?” I ask, my chest aching, begging to God I didn’t just ruin this before it could even start.

“Paige,” Iz sighs, trying to comfort me. But I could tell she felt uneasy about something. “I think we just gotta remember that we need to be really careful about this, yeah?”

I sigh nodding. She’s right. “Yeah.”

“I mean the stakes aren't the same for you and me. If we get caught,” she starts, letting out a heavy breath. “I’ll be back in London in no time. You however would be completely fine.”

I nod, wanting the girl to know I was really hearing her out. “Gon be really careful okay?”

“No slip ups.”

“No ma’am,” I answer reassuringly.

“And you can’t tell anyone. Not a soul. Not Arike, not Lou, no one. They can’t know.”

“I agree,” I tell the girl. “Look, I meant what I said. Whatever you want me to be I’mma be.”

The girl smiles, for a moment I think there’s a hint of sadness there, but it’s gone just as fast as it appeared. “Today’s been… amazing.”

I bite my lower lip, hand coming to her lower back just for a moment. There was nothing in this world that felt as good as hearing her praise. Maybe winning the national championship. Top two things I’ve ever experienced.

“Wanted it to be special for you, Iz,” I hum, blushing a little. Just as she’s about to answer, her phone rings.

“It’s Trey,” she murmurs. Of course it is. I can’t help but roll my eyes, watching as she raises the phone to her ear and answers. That’s how we walk back to the car, the girl next to me talking animatedly on the phone about whatever, my irritation growing with each moment. I knew they were friends. But everytime she giggled or laughed at whatever the man on the phone was saying, my jaw clenched and breathing grew heavier.

“Okay, Trey I really must go. I’ll see you in a couple days,” Izzie, who had been trying to politely end the call, says. I hear Trey’s defiant protests all the way from the driver’s seat, making me want to grab the girl’s phone and hang up for her.

Iz laughs politely at whatever he said. “Treeyy, I’ll talk to you about this at work okay? Alright, bye now.”

Finally, she hangs up.

“I’m so sorry, I thought it might be about work but he was just calling to explain about some sort of couch he was considering getting,” Iz chuckles, finally turning her gaze to me.I feel my annoyance settle down the moment her eyes land on me. Having her attention just had the effect of soothing me. Still, it bothered me that the girl was so oblivious to Trey’s obsession with her. I sigh, chewing on the inside of my cheek. 

“What?” Izzie asks, noticing my irritation as we sit in the parked car.

“You know he likes you, right?”

Izara rolls her eyes. “Don’t start with that again.”

“It’s true.”

“It’s not.”

I turn to her, raising my brows. “You prolly don’t see it but I do. He’s always calling or texting you, following you around or tryna touch you. All the time. He obsessed, trust.”

Izzie scoffs, turning to me. “I think you’re just reading into it too much.”

I shake my head. “He likes you.”

She looks like she's about to get defensive, but then her face softens. “Well, even if he does, I don’t care.”

“You don’t?” I ask, my voice growing needy.

“No darling,” she hums quietly, reaching over and placing her dainty hand on mine. “I couldn’t care less about Trey.”

My heart flutters, the warmth in my chest spreading all over my body, chills forming underneath her touch. All the frustration and annoyance that had been growing are replaced with affection now that I feel reassured

“Yeah?” I ask carefully, nearly flinching at how whiny it comes out.

Izzie smiles, leaning over the center console and kissing my cheek. I catch a whiff of the pear and lavender notes of her perfume, my head spinning.

“Yeah.”

I lean over too, my lips finally crashing against hers, both hands holding her face gently like a baby bird, doing everything in my power not to disrupt her. Her lips taste like strawberries, and a hint of red wine from dinner. The wine had loosened Izzie up, her body turning into putty in the passenger seat just from one kiss. 

Her hands wrap around my neck, scratching at the back of my neck to pull me impossibly closer. I groan, arousal growing quickly between my thighs. A passing car honks, reminding me of our surroundings and the fact that the windows were not tinted. At the sudden realisation, I pull back abruptly, wiping my lips. 

Izzie looks breathless, cheeks flushed and lips parted and glossy. 

You wanna come to mine, ma?” I ask, or rather plead. The thought of getting to bring her home after had been the only force to give me the strength to keep my hands to myself all night.

“Yes,” she simply exhales. I feel a thrill, pulling out of the parking lot and beginning to head towards our home, my hand never leaving her thigh, mind filled with the thoughts of lifting the skirt and diving into her.

-

My chest heaves as we climb the stairs, Izara’s heels tapping against the marble and echoing in the corridor. As I open the door, I let the dark-haired girl in, my heartbeat loud in my ears.

“Whoa,” she gasps. Stepping inside after her, I watch her face brighten as a trail of red rose petals on the floor leads all the way to the bedroom, just as I had set them before picking her up.

I step closer, pressing my front against her back, leaning down to kiss her neck as my hands find their position on her waist. I loved that even in heels she was a few inches shorter than me. Her body melts into me quickly, the curve of her ass pressing into my hips. The satin is smooth and cool under my fingertips, and her neck smells like her perfume and the fruity hair products she uses. Guava?

“You did this?” she asks, her voice gasping as my lips glide against her neck, feeling for her pulse under my kisses. 

Finally, I find the steady beating on the side of her long neck, my lips wrapping around it and sucking. Izzie exhales softly, her hands finding mine at her waist.

“Mhmm,” I hum, nuzzling my nose into her ear before kissing it feverishly. I needed her so desperately, like I had been travelling the desert for days and finally found an oasis filled with fresh water and sweet fruit and cool shade. I’m surprised I’m even able to stand upright.

“Oh so you knew I’d be coming over? That’s how you see me?” Her voice is stern, sending a jolt through my body. It makes me want to get on my knees and apologize, repent.

“N-No baby, I mean I was hopin’ but I didn’t assume. Iz, I swear I don-”

I’m joking, Paige,” she laughs, craning her neck to look into my face, an amused smile on her lips. My cheeks turn red as I laugh at myself.

I walk the girl forward, following the rose petals into the bedroom. They reach the bed, the white sheets decorated with the flower petals as well. Izara looks around, a smile on her face. I feel the ache between my thighs grow knowing I had made her happy.

Before I can say anything, she flips around to face me, kissing me heatedly. Her mouth is wide open against mine, tongue circling mine and fingers digging into my shoulders.

“Lemme light the candles,” I hiss, furrowing my brows and trying to pull away. But Izzie pulls me in by my collar, kissing me again.

“Fuck the candles,” she murmurs and, to my surprise, walks me backward into the bed.

I crash onto my back, Izzie pushing me down by my chest. “Let me dim the lights,” she says, but I grab her hand.

“Please don’t,” I whisper, my brows furrowing. “Wanna see you baby.”

She hesitates for a moment, but I grab her hand and bring it to my lips, kissing it gently. “Please.”

Izzie pulls her hand back, convinced by the simple gesture, and reaches behind her back to her zipper. She unzips the dress far too slow, driving me insane. I wanted her now. So I whine, furrowing my brows and squirming on the bed, but the girl only shakes her head, slipping one strap off her shoulder. I nearly pass out.

“Patience,” Iz tells me, her voice low and gravelly. I can’t look away, wetting my lips with my tongue as I watch the second strap fall from her shoulder, the dress finally hitting the floor.

“Oh shit,” I murmur to myself, my boxers growing wetter and wetter the moment I realise she wasn’t wearing a bra at all, her body only covered with black lace panties. My gaze is stuck on her chest though, her round breasts covered in goosebumps. Breathing heavy, I sit up, mouth watering to wrap my lips around her hard nipple, to knead the skin.

“Nuh uh,” Izzie snaps, pushing me back down onto my back. I feel a thrill, surprised to find how much this turned me on. I was so used to being the one in charge, I didn’t even know how insanely hot it would be for the dark haired girl to be giving me commands. Though, in hindsight, I probably should have known from the way my core throbbed everytime she demanded something from me.

“Iz,” I groan, watching as her nimble fingers begin to unbutton my shirt, painfully slowly. I feel like I might pass out.

“Remember what I said baby,” she hums, straddling my hips, thighs becoming even thicker on both sides of me as she sits down on them. Izzie leans down, lips hovering over my ear, hot breath tickling it. “Patience,” she whispers, and then ghosts my skin, leaving me writhing.

Finally she pulls my shirt open, revealing the white sports bra underneath. Her long nail drags from my neck downwards, to my chest, and finally to the muscles of my abdomen.

“You’re so beautiful,” I whine, watching the way her eyes darken as she gazes down at me. My hands come to her hips, easily reaching over to knead her ass. To my relief, she lets me, exhaling heavily and throwing her head back as I feel her skin. My hands feel up her sides, to her breast, kneading them in each hand and bucking my hips to look for any relief on my soaked core.

My chest heaves vigorously, right hand dragging downwards, down the skin of her stomach, fingertips dipping into the band. I needed to feel her. Now. I was dying, and I needed to make sure she didn’t feel like I did, desperate and throbbing.

“No,” Iz says, grabbing my wrist. I look at her pleadingly, eyes nearly welling up at the thought of how wet she might be.

“Please,” I whine. “Ride my fingers ma.”

Izzie’s eyes flutter shut at this, but sternly, she shakes her head. leaning down to kiss me. It’s sloppy, our tongues meeting in heated movements, spit covering both our mouths. The girl on top of me continues her open mouthed kisses, finding her way from my neck downwards. It’s then I realise what she’s about to do, the puddle between my legs growing unbearable.

I maneuver upward on the bed, too wet to notice the nervousness in the girl’s eyes when she starts kissing along the band of my shorts, hands coming to pull them down.

“Fuck ma,” I whimper, my entire body shaking with need. I had been dreaming of this moment, spent many hours lying in my bed with my hand between my legs imagining what her green, sharp, catlike eyes would look watching up at me.

She leaves me in my boxers, nails digging into my inner thighs as she spreads my legs apart.

“Please,” I murmur, eyes fluttering shut from how badly my cunt is soaking through the white boxers.

“What’s wrong my love?” Izzie asks, voice so sweet it’s bordering on condescending as she leans down between my legs, kissing my thighs, biting the skin. The wine had made her bolder, more liberated. It drove me insane.

“Need you baby,” I whine, bucking my hips. It’s no use, the dark haired girl’s hands holding my body still.

“What do you need from me darling?” She asks, fingertips playing with the band of my boxers in a way that made me want to flip her over and take her this very moment.

“Shit,” I hiss to myself, wiping the sweat off my forehead. “Baby please. touch me. Gon’ die if you don’t.”

“Yeah? You want my mouth?”

She’s pressing kisses on top of the soaked fabric of my boxers now, brushing lightly against my clit. I need more, so insanely bad. I feel like I might explode.

“Mhm,” I whimper, my voice shakier and needier than I liked - not that I cared much in this very moment.

“Tell me baby,” she smiles, looking up at my scrunched up face, slowly pulling down the last layer of fabric between her and where I needed her most.

“I-” I’m stuttering, overwhelmed, feeling like I might cum just purely from the sight. “Your mouth, mama, please.”

As I say the words, she pulls my boxers down, and begins to kiss around my wet cunt, everywhere but where I need her the most. Still, I’m moaning like crazy, knowing there must be a few concerned neighbours listening by now. I couldn’t care less.

Finally, the dark haired girl touches my clit, starting with small kitten licks. 

“That’s it, holy shit,” I gasp, hands coming down to her hair, trying to maintain the urge to yank it wherever I want her.

“Mhmm,” she moans against my core, lips wrapping around my clit and sucking gently. 

“Fuck, you’re so- holy shit,” I murmur, unable to think straight, legs already shaking, chest heaving uncontrollably. I can’t tear my eyes away from hers, as she looks up at me. my thighs on each side of her face.

“Taste so good,” she mumbles, a blush on her cheeks from the filthy words. Still, she keeps going, the vibrations of her moans bringing me closer and closer. Embarrassingly, it doesn’t take long for that familiar heat to start spreading in my abdomen, making my pussy throb around nothing as her tongue flicks back and forth in my folds.

“Make me feel so good, fuck baby, look at you,” I praise, my voice high pitched and whiny. “Look so fuckin’ pretty between my le- aw shit.”

I feel it, already growing hotter and hotter, the fire inside me making my muscles tense.

“I- I’m so cl-” I whimper, yanking on the girl’s hair.

“Baby,” Iz moans, wrapping her lips around my clit while her tongue flicks against it, making it impossible to hold back.

“Keep doin’ that, don’t stop. Don’t st-” I cry out, legs trembling and muscles tensing as the girl between my legs keeps pushing me closer and closer. “Shit mama, I’m gon’ cum.”

With that, I tip over the edge, pleasure crashing through my body, writhing and moaning. The orgasm is just as intense as it was fast, making my grip tighten around Izzie’s hair as she keeps up with the movement of her tongue.

As I come back down, the dark haired girl climbs back up, kissing me with authority. I feel embarrassed, from how wet her face is, and most of all from how fast I came. Couldn’t have been more than two minutes. It was something about her that made me yield, completely submit to her, my body too weak to fight it.

“Well that was quick,” Izzie giggles as she pulls away from me. I roll my eyes, flipping the girl on her back.

“Just wanted it to be your turn fast ma,” I mumble, beginning to kiss her neck.

-

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, P- Paige, fuck,” I cry out, tears filling my eyes as Paige presses on my lower back, pinning my hips down against the mattress. Her fingers are buried deep inside me, slipping in and out of me with a rapid pace, making my pussy drip all over the sheets. It was overwhelming, the strength of her fingers something I had never experienced before - what didn’t help was the three times I had already cum after she finished.

“Just one more, I promise. Swear baby. Can feel how much you’re throbbing around my fingers,” Paige coos, pressing sloppy kisses onto my sweaty back before sitting back up and kneading on the skin of my ass to get deeper inside me. Something about her filthy words made me willing to keep going, my orgasm building quickly from how sensitive I had been left after the past couple hours.

“Baby,” I cry out, grabbing the sheets desperately, tears spilling down my cheeks into the cotton blanket underneath me, sticking to my skin. 

“So perfect,” the blonde groans, eyes watching closely the way my pussy molded around her fingers, stretched out just for her, gushing around the long digits slipping in and out.

“P- I’m gonna-” I gasp, back arching as the muscles inside me coil tighter and tighter.

“C’mon ma, lemme make you cum,” she moans, leaning back down and kissing my ear, her hot breath sending chills all over as her fingers keep pumping into me. “So fuckin’ gorgeous you know that?”

With a high pitched whine, the coil finally snaps, my core clenching around her fingers as she makes me cum for the fourth time that night. My entire body trembles, hands grabbing the sheets desperately. The blonde brings her free hand to mine, long digits entangling with mine comfortingly.

“That’s it, fuck, look at you,” Paige murmurs into my ear, talking me through it as the waves of pleasure wash over me. I feel sore, tired, but in that moment everything else is forgotten, except the ecstasy taking over my entire existence, and the blonde’s praise in my ear.

“You are so fucking sexy,” the blonde whispers into my ear, slipping her fingers out of me and wrapping a comforting arm around me. In a haze, I nustle myself into her side, still attempting to slow down my rapid breathing.

I chuckle, finally opening my eyes and flipping onto my back. I couldn’t believe how many times she had just gotten me off. Most of all I couldn’t believe I let her do that all to me with all the lights on, and enjoyed it too much to even care. 

We both lie in each other’s arms, completely naked. Paige’s blonde hair is falling out of her bun, sweat glistening against her bare arms, covered in veins from the strain. She’s breathing loudly through her nose, watching my face. Surely I looked horrendous, makeup all over my face, hair fully out of place, curls wild and unruly. But the younger girl’s blue eyes continue to stare, soft and adoring. She leans in, pressing a soft kiss onto my forehead, loaded with emotion - feelings I wasn’t ready to face.

“You’re so beautiful,” Paige whispers, nuzzling her nose into mine. My heart flutters almost painfully. At that moment I know - I’m in trouble. That leaving Dallas behind after the season is over won’t be as effortless as I had hoped. I decide to worry about that later, wrapping my leg around the blonde and pressing my naked body against hers.

“So are you,” I murmur, letting Paige cocoon me with her big arms.

"One more time ma, please?"

-

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[lilianalovespink]

Your lungs burn.

Your skin does too.

Sweat soaked clothes cling to your skin, cotton made heavy by the sheer amount of it that you've let off in the last hour of training.

But most importantly, there's a lump in your throat that aches worse than any cough ever could've- feeling like that time you had tonsillitis as a child.

"'ny more wisdom or are you done, private?"

If you cry now, he'll be kind; understanding. He always is, but that's the problem.

"I'm done captain."

~

'Unable to follow orders without questions, unable to integrate into the team.'

Sincerely and with your entire heart, you wish only the worst upon John Price. You could follow orders, you could work with them- if they let you.

A discomfort of needle like nature pulls through your muscles at that thought, considering that you had in fact voiced it and that the consequence had been the training you usually do over the course of three hours having to get done within an hour, no breaks, no warmups.

The worst part, you thought as you stepped out of the showers, is that in his view, he didn't hate you but rather...think you incompetent; a cocky amateur with too much of their chest puffed out.

You, a little child, a toddler acting rebellious or throwing a tantrum, and him, the sensible adult, strict but 'caring'.

"Shh, I know. This is too much for you. I know."

Leave it to him to make comfort a painful act; one for you to be belittled during, made out to be just another stupid teen in over their head.

Yes, you were younger than your commander, your captain, but no younger than your lieutenant or seargant.

Just not at their rank.

Your transfer to the 141 was abrupt, but by no means unwelcome. You were the best in your recruitment class, you were capable but as price, at the time you thought jokingly, put it, you weren't 'broken in'.

And boy did he have every intention of breaking you.

Training was tough, but doable except-

"You were top of your class? Again."

"There's a reason you're still a private."

"If you can't manage, leave."

And then, whenever you snap at him, show teeth at the hand that constantly strikes you, he's a saint. He's really just putting you what everyone else is going through, why are you this upset? Clearly because you're immature.

If you can hold back your urge to bite bite bite- this man, if you try to ask him stuff it's really a coin flip of what version of Captain John Price you'll get.

"You can't handle it? That's okay. It's okay, hey- no crying. Come here...yeah, that's a good girl."

Or, in case you didn't crawl between his legs like a scared puppy-

"I'm only being hard on you because I thought you wanted to be better. Was I wrong about that? Or do you want to be something other than a private one day?"

The worst part is that, the team seems to see you as a puppy as well- with you literally getting that as a monicker.

Lt. Riley wasn't as cold and mysterious as you expected when you first saw the mask, but he certainly wasn't hellbent on letting you be his buddy, let alone his comrade. He never helped you out unless you asked, but, should you make that mistake, to ask for help, he'll nod and simply guide you aside like you're a sheep and he's your shepherd. Like teaching you wasn't literally his job.

Sgt. MacTavish as well as Sgt. Garrick had initially been warm and inviting, had made you feel like this was your team- until you noticed how they'd leave you out whenever they could. Sure, neither of them were rude but- they weren't proper teammates either.

And then, of course, Captain Price.

What should you say about this man? How horrible he is? Would that do what he's put you through any justice?

As if this alienation from the people you literally had to trust with your life wasn't bad enough, the way they seemed to pity you was worse. Like you were a small child who dropped your candy.

It hurt, badly.

So when Commander Philipp Graves joined for a mission in Los Alamos and was the only one who treated you like you were on one level?

Yeah, you took the bait.

[prankprincess123]

I genuinely feel like it depends WHY they don't approve, and regardless of why you should at the very least still hear them out, but for me personally it would easily be the end of the romantic relationship.

My family is close and I respect my loved ones opinions enough that depending on why literally any family member doesn't approve of the man I wish to marry, I might break it off or at least postpone the wedding until the issue is resolved. Like if my uncles know something about him that even I don't, and explain such to me when I ask, I'd definitely respect their opinion because I know they genuinely have my best interests at heart. Or if my grandparents or aunts & uncles feel they don't know him well enough for me to marry him yet, I'd ensure that they got the chance before the wedding, whether that mean delaying the wedding or simply within the engagement period. Genuinely one of the first things I've done in most instances of even semi serious relationships is make sure my family approve - partly because they showed me the same respect when they were dating and courting their now spouses even when I was a toddler. For my entire childhood whenever one of my uncles had a new girlfriend it was tradition that we would do a trip to the zoo, just my uncle, their new girlfriend, and all the nieces and nephews with the goal of our approval - I remember a time at 7yo when I decided I didn't like the girl one uncle was dating at the time, and he broke it off that night because my approval was worth that much in his relationship. In my dating experience so far there has never been a guy who my family didn't approve of - my most serious relationship even started with my uncle playing matchmaker and I genuinely think both of our families were the ones most disappointed when I ended things - but any time a relationship has been serious enough that I've even considered giving it an official title I've either already gotten everyone's approval or that is the very next step I take.

I've had uncles drop girlfriends because I was a petty child who simply wanted my uncle's attention to myself, and instantly become more serious with and in one case eventually marry a girl because I admired her so much. I have an aunt who got back together with her now husband because us kids commented that we missed how much happier she was when they were actually dating rather than him just being our uncle's best friend. Every relationship my older cousin was ever in he asked my opinion and advice every step of the way, I was the first person admitted his feelings to every time, the one he trusted to let him know and if needed talk him out of any even yellow flags, I was the first person in the family to meet his now wife and he then begged me for my opinion about her for hours, the first after his mom that he told about proposing because he needed to have that conversation with me personally, the one he cried to and consulted with regarding who should stand beside him at the alter when I couldn't due to covid, and the first to find out about my niece because he was scared and wanted my advice on the matter. I'm lucky enough that I've never been in a situation where a parent or grandparent was courting, as all three couples are still alive and happily married, but I have no doubt that if one of them were to die and the widowed parent or grandparent wanted to get re-married they would respect my opinion just as much as my aunts and uncles have (though likely not to the extent of my older cousin, as I think he trusts my judgment and opinions more than his own). Like my BIL's opinion on my future spouse sure as heck doesn't matter in the slightest because he doesn't respect my opinions on anything. And my one sister's opinion holds far less weight than it previously would have because she didn't respect me enough to listen when I suggested that dating a 25yo when she was 17yo might not be a smart idea and screams at me whenever I express worry over that relationship. And one aunt & uncle who's oppinions matter less because they don't respect me, my mama, or sisters in general. But every other family member has at the very least listened to my voice and opinions in everything, including their relationships, so why wouldn't I do the same for them?

I'm in a situationship with a guy right now that seems like he wants to formalize the relationship, but I won't even consider such until he's had a chance to meet everyone and I know that they approve. And when I get to the point of engagement and marriage it's even more important, as whoever it is isn't just marrying me they are also marrying into my family. Not only am I consulting with my grandparents and aunts & uncles before accepting a proposal, I'm getting approval from my 4yo niece and newborn-5yo cousins before it can even be a serious relationship.

[colorlessjay]

hold up does 6!cas hanging out in the future realise upon seeing 16!same that be left his soul behind back in s6? or does he just think sam lightens up in the future😭

no idea since it's Dean that's time travel switched

tho, I can imagine an AU version of this AU where it's Cas that gets switched around

which would be funny

like, I imagine S16 Cas would still do what he's doing and tempt Dean. Only instead of domestic bliss, Cas shows off how well of a hunster he's become over the years and actually fights like a hunster, instead of using angel mojo

Meanwhile, I imagine S6 Cas would try to use his angel mojo to go back to the right time. He realizes he can't and instead finds Dean and Sam for help

Only to see Dean old and jolly and oddly calm

and at first, it calms him a little. Gives him hope for the future. Seeing Dean alive and happy and seemingly out of the hunting life is encouraging and makes him think that maybe his betrayal would lead to this future

Then S16 Dean, staring at a younger version of his husband goes for a hug and now Cas isn't so sure this is his Dean

Meeting S16 Sam though would be extra jarring but the most hopeful. Cause seeing Sam happy and himself again means he got his soul back and that things turn out okay

S6 Cas thinks "This means whatever I'm doing with crowley has worked. And given the Winchester's fondness towards me, it means I am either forgiven or my deed has done good"

niave FOOL

[wendichester]

I absolutely love your work! Could I request something where the reader is not the most active person, like... She doesn't like running, she's not fit, she's terrible at fighting. She maybe does research, but that's all. But she's good at picking clothes, she always makes sure Sam and Dean look professional/appropriate to what they'll be doing. And she makes absolutely AMAZING apple pie, and she cooks, and all - just helps "passively", not "actively". So one day she decides that "alright, that's enough, I'm only causing trouble" and leaves - and at first the boys don't care, since she "wasn't too useful" - but after like a week or two they notice that they miss the apple pie, they miss someone who could help them with looking better, especially Sam, who realizes how deep in love with her he is? And maybe she comes back?

I'm sorry if it's too specific, or too much details, or anything😅😅

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ all the little things,

summary. when you start to think just how replaceable you are, sam shows you exactly otherwise

pairing. sam winchester x reader ft. dean winchester

wordcount. 681

notes. honestly, this is just a heartwarming idea! thank you for requesting lovely 🩷

The motel room is quiet when you slip out.

Your bag is packed, everything neat and folded because, well—of course it is. You aren’t a mess. You don’t do things hastily or without thinking. But you’ve thought about this—leaving—long and hard, and the conclusion is always the same.

You aren’t useful.

Sure, you help. You make sure Dean’s FBI suit isn’t wrinkled and that Sam has something other than plaid to wear when interviewing victims. You keep the bunker stocked, and you make damn good apple pie.

But you can’t run. You can’t fight. You can barely hold a gun without it shaking in your hands.

And you’re tired of feeling like dead weight.

So you leave.

No note, no big speech—just a quiet exit in the middle of the night, the way you’re sure they’ll forget you.

Because you? You’re replaceable.

Right?

At first, the boys don’t notice.

They wake up, see that your things are gone, and shrug it off. Maybe you got tired of the life. Maybe you found something better.

They don’t talk about it.

They just move on.

Then things start feeling off.

Not all at once—just little things.

Like how Dean’s shirts are suddenly wrinkled as hell, and his ties are never quite right. Or how Sam keeps losing his laptop charger because you’re not there to remind him to bring it.

And the food? Absolute garbage.

Dean burns everything. Sam tries to cook and nearly poisons them both. They eat diner food three times a day, and after two weeks, Dean stares blankly at the menu and mutters, “God, I miss pie.”

Sam’s fork pauses mid-air.

It’s the first time either of them has said it out loud.

Dean catches himself, scowls, and shoves a bite of pancakes into his mouth. But the damage is done.

They do miss you.

The bunker feels wrong without you.

Your room is empty, hollow in a way Sam can’t stand. He stops by more often than he wants to admit, staring at the bed like it might hold answers, like it might tell him why you left without a word.

At first, he assumed it didn’t matter. But now—now it’s everywhere.

It’s in the little things.

Like how there’s no warm light from the kitchen in the morning, no soft hum of music while you bake. No one teasing Dean about his terrible diet or fixing Sam’s collar before an interview.

No one who makes them feel like they have a home.

It takes Sam longer than he’d like to admit to realize what it means.

He doesn’t just miss you.

He loves you.

And he needs you back.

Finding you takes time.

Sam spends hours searching, fingers flying over the keyboard until—finally—he gets a hit.

Dean doesn’t argue when Sam says, “Let’s go.”

Because he misses you too.

You stare at them when they show up at your new apartment.

“...What are you doing here?”

Sam takes a slow breath. “We need to talk.”

You cross your arms, trying to hold your ground. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

Dean scoffs. “Bullshit.”

Sam shoots him a look, then turns back to you, softer. “We didn’t realize how much we needed you,” he admits. “Not just for the small stuff—for everything.”

You blink, and Sam steps closer, voice steady.

“You make us better. You make us feel like we’re more than just hunters. More than just the job.”

You swallow hard. “I—I thought I was just in the way.”

Sam shakes his head. “You were never in the way.”

Dean chimes in. “Look, we’re idiots, okay? We should’ve said something when you left.” He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “But the truth is—we suck without you.”

Your throat tightens.

Then Sam says, quietly—earnestly,

“I love you.”

Your breath catches.

Dean smirks. “Took him long enough to admit it.”

Sam rolls his eyes but doesn’t look away from you. His hand finds yours, warm and solid.

“So,” he says. “Come home?”

You hesitate—only for a second.

Then you nod.

And just like that, everything is right again.

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[tallahasseemp3]

we all knew this show was a tragedy going in so i'm not even necessarily mad about them killing off a character in and of itself because that's the nature of the beast and there can't be dramatic irony without it but i think it's so transparent that they disposed of lottie to make room for a white character in hillary swank joining the cast when lottie had been central to the first two seasons and that's bullshit. i mean s1 literally ended with WHO THE FUCK IS LOTTIE MATTHEWS. then in s2 they didn't know what to do with her so they threw her in the psych ward while the other characters got to go home free. and now this. it's clear simone kessell is also unhappy with it and i really do not blame her. they're now going to use this as a plotline for misty to look into her death i fucking guess. which, again, plotline for a white character. i think the visual of her dying on the same steps she saw in her vision 25 years earlier absolutely fucks as well i just wish they hadn't done it at this point in the show. i am a huge tragedy enjoyer but i think you should be able to recognise when something stinks. and this does.

[whoknowsyourfuture]

So, this is a bit of a tangent, but I think it's relevant.

I grew up riding horses. My mom trained, (people and horses), and I knew a looooooot of kids between 4-H, AQHA, and the local HSET (I didn't do HSET bc I was showing a lot in AQHA, but I knew people in it).

Now, I don't remember the first time I was on a horse, because I was probably literally 2 or younger, but riding has never been easy for me. Do I love it? Yeah, of course. Have I had access to horses that you can ride for 20 min and be done? Nope. Do I have long legs and natural balance? Hell no. I was so jealous of one girl I rode with during high school because she had just started riding and could just sit perfectly straight and keep every part of her body exactly so, meanwhile I had to constantly fight to keep my body stretched to the furthest extent just to look maybe a quarter as elegant as she did.

I'm still riding, while she, as far as I'm aware, is not.

That was kind of how it went, honestly. Of course, even in the area I grew up in, there's a certain amount of 'who can afford to get their kid a really good horse and then be okay with them getting bored of riding', but by and large, the people who riding came easily to did not continue with it. (The exception, of course, were trainer's kids, but like. My siblings got the same opportunity to ride and show as I did, we even shared horses at times, but they were natural riders and I just wasn't. I have had to put in so many thousands of hours to get good at riding. Of course I kept on during my youth years for a mixed bag of reasons, some good, some ehhhhhh, but I kept on for years after my siblings quit because I wanted to.)

Ok, I think I'm getting sidetracked, but the gist of my point is, if something is easy for you, it'll get boring. If you have to work at something, you're more likely to find out if you actually enjoy it for what it is. Of course, things can also be hard, boring, and you hate doing them (a lot of jobs, unfortunately), but if you don't learn to stick with something until you can really decide how you feel about it, well.

Are you ever going to find out what you really like doing, or are you going to give up 3 seconds into doing something you could have poured your heart into?

Something I don't think we talk enough about in discussions surrounding AI is the loss of perseverance.

I have a friend who works in education and he told me about how he was working with a small group of HS students to develop a new school sports chant. This was a very daunting task for the group, in large part because many had learning disabilities related to reading and writing, so coming up with a catchy, hard-hitting, probably rhyming, poetry-esque piece of collaborative writing felt like something outside of their skill range. But it wasn't! I knew that, he knew that, and he worked damn hard to convince the kids of that too. Even if the end result was terrible (by someone else's standards), we knew they had it in them to complete the piece and feel super proud of their creation.

Fast-forward a few days and he reports back that yes they have a chant now... but it's 99% AI. It was made by Chat-GPT. Once the kids realized they could just ask the bot to do the hard thing for them - and do it "better" than they (supposedly) ever could - that's the only route they were willing to take. It was either use Chat-GPT or don't do it at all. And I was just so devastated to hear this because Jesus Christ, struggling is important. Of course most 14-18 year olds aren't going to see the merit of that, let alone understand why that process (attempting something new and challenging) is more valuable than the end result (a "good" chant), but as adults we all have a responsibility to coach them through that messy process. Except that's become damn near impossible with an Instantly Do The Thing app in everyone's pocket. Yes, AI is fucking awful because of plagiarism and misinformation and the environmental impact, but it's also keeping people - particularly young people - from developing perseverance. It's not just important that you learn to write your own stuff because of intellectual agency, but because writing is hard and it's crucial that you learn how to persevere through doing hard things.

Write a shitty poem. Write an essay where half the textual 'evidence' doesn't track. Write an awkward as fuck email with an equally embarrassing typo. Every time you do you're not just developing that particular skill, you're also learning that you did something badly and the world didn't end. You can get through things! You can get through challenging things! Not everything in life has to be perfect but you know what? You'll only improve at the challenging stuff if you do a whole lot of it badly first. The ability to say, "I didn't think I could do that but I did it anyway. It's not great, but I did it," is SO IMPORTANT for developing confidence across the board, not just in these specific tasks.

Idk I'm just really worried about kids having to grow up in a world where (for a variety of reasons beyond just AI) they're not given the chance to struggle through new and challenging things like we used to.

[amazingdeadfish]

Do u think u could make an opera version of mayor? I've seen a few artists make diff opera wukong/Mac designs but I think a opera mayor design would look very cool :D

Not gonna lie, I was nervous to do this, but, I don't regret trying out this challenge.

RAMBLES + (literally only two) REFERANCES BELOW THE CUT:

The costume is based on the classic armor outfit in Chinese Peking Opera. Since, we all know that the Mayor doesn't actually have that many identifiable characteristics or, much of a role in the LMK show other than being LBD's foot soldier or, thrall. So, I had to reflect that in what's probably an incredibly basic interpretation for what their design could be (because if you actually see the insane level amount of detail in peking opera outfits, you'll understand that this drawing is heavily simplified and lacks detail).

The mask, is, also simple. I tried to look at numerous references and get my head around the insane amount of possibilities of patterns and designs and what they mean, as well as what the colours symbolize, but all that's important is that blue symbolizes stoicism, black for integrity, and white symbolizes evil (but of course these meanings for colours have leeway in between depending on what source you look at. There is no definitive answer).

The mask is also important because it creates the most visual distinction from Mayor being a Jing instead of a Sheng (male protagonist). And, even though it's a basic mask, I did create it to imply an almost 'skull' shape to it. But it's discrete and, you have to be looking for it to be there (which I suppose fits because, Mayor being LBD's thrall wasn't revealed straight away)

Now okay look, I'm- I'm not an expert on peking opera at all, I had to do a bit or research to do this in order to actually understand what I am doing when it comes to designing an outfit for Mayor. You might see a hint of his Chief costume in the chest plate I decided to keep, and all those skull motifs to show that he is a thrall of Lady Bone Demon. But in short, he is a warrior, a soldier, a chief of war, and he fights and works for Lady Bone Demon. He is to be a character with heavy, dramatic armor, and a mask to not only symbolize his role in whatever theatre show he lands himself in, but also for the shrouded identity he has and, well, not exactly being the most in-depth or open character in the show :))).

Anyways, here's a beta design back when I legitimately had no idea what I was doing and had done like zero research apart from looking at references I lied and, thinking Mayor would have a 'lighter (less heavy) and less decorative outfit (clearly I changed my mind later on):

I am, glad I did not follow through with this design. This is, not a peking opera outfit. Not a conventional one at least, that would reflect who the Mayor is (because this mf is conventional as hell, fitting in with modern times with his suit and all).

And here are the, uh, two references I used (obviously there's more but, these two were the ones I really picked apart and analyzed and, have clearly referenced):

And yes, I copied the pose on the right.

Design is welcome for critique (again, I am not an expert on peking opera (it's such a vast, complex, and wonderful artform that the more I found out the more I was intimidated by) and possibly subjected to be redesigned later on should I look back on this months-years later and cringe horrifically.

[intimidatingpuffinstudios]

Progress Update Feb 2025

Hey, everyone!

It's time for another progress update, don't you think? I've been REALLY excited for this one, because uh….

It might just be one of the last ones for TSSW 3?!!!!! YES, YOU HEARD THAT RIGHT! I finished Straasa's route, as well as the MS route!

Now, I'm already halfway through Eledwen and Daelynn's solo routes!! And then I have to write the MD and DE poly (which are also 1/3 of the way done).

These things really shouldn't take more than…3 more months? AT MAXIMUM! So YEAH! This update might just be one of the last 4 before the game is complete!

I expect to be done with both Eledwen and Daelynn solo routes by the end of March, and then it will also depend on how fast the last two polys go, because these routes are always the longest.

(If I ever decide to do more than one poly per game again, someone please knock me out and put me out of my misery, BECAUSE I WILL HAVE LOST MY MIND!)

It's been a wild ride, but it's ALMOST over now!! I just have the last push left! WISH ME LUCK, EVERYONE!

And BtM has been going great too! Still making steady progress on the second to last big segment, and we are nearly there with the art department as well! Maybe 4 more backgrounds left? Give or take!

We're seriously at the final countdown for both games, AND I CAN'T WAIT TO FINISH THEM SO I CAN SHOW YOU ALL!!

Thank you so much for the support, everyone! And make some NOISE! 🤣

Cheers!✨

[heart-of-light-and-darkness]

"I should have listened to you." I admit to War as I down another glass of sweet tea that Famine had poured for me. I smile in thanks to the elderly looking entity as she adds another stack of tamales to my plate. I had already eaten three plate fulls, but her cooking was so good it always left me hungry for more. Every time I saw her, it was like looking at someone's grandma.

"I told you so," war replied with a gruff scoff as he rolled his eyes. "I told you not to listen to my older brother. But does anyone ever listen to me? NoOoOo! I'm just war, the muscle head jock that only knows how to fight." He growls in frustration as he slams a fist on the table, causing the drinks and chip dip to wobble and the audible cruch of chips being crushed.

"Hey, hey! Watch the snacks meathead!" Famines voice rasps as she quickly moves the dip to safety. "That's was pur last bag of chips! Keep this up, and you won't be getting any desert after dinner, young Sprite!"

"It's always the last bag of chips," war retorted. "Just go to the pantry and get more.... and quit with the old lady act. We are all the same age!" Famine grumbles as she gets up, stomping off to the kitchen. War turns his eyes back onto me, the fire in them narrowing. "And don't think I didn't notice you putting the moves on my big sister, angle." He warned as he reached for his belt and slapped something on the table. It was hard to look at as its form kept changing. The only thing certain about it was it was a weapon of war. From guns to spears to swards to even a miniture helicopter, the weapon kept shifting. I think at one point I saw a mushroom cloud.

Quickly shaking the sunspots out of my vission i find my voice. "I assure you war, I was being sincere when I said Death had great cheekbones. And her smile is very calming and kind."

"Really now, lil' bro? Threatening our guests before the game even begins?" Came a jovial voice from the doorway. Walking in came a man that was near identical to War, except for one key difference. Whereas war was dressed in a tight fitting green shirt that showed off his muscles and camo pants, this guy was wearing the world's ugliest Hawaiian shirt and boardshorts. He ruffled wars hair with a smile. "You need to relax, man. Otherwise, you'll have the cramps when it finally comes time to ride. Besides, dont the mortals have a say: all is fair in love and war?"

"Stop touching me Conquest!" War whined, slapping his hand away as conquest sits next to him. "And your not love dumbass!"

"Are you sure about that?" Conquest teased. "Don't done people call it conquering the heart? I'm just saying, I think I would do a better job then cupid." Conquest says will giving the biggest shit eating grin to me. The grin was unsettling, being all teeth and no warmth. "Or of course you could always do a different kind of conquering in the bed ro-"

Conquest was interrupted by a slipper hitting him in the head. "While I am all for satiatings ones cravings, could you ot be so crass when talking about potential love lifes that may include our sister? Besides, you're freaking out the angle." Famine said, carrying out more chips and other asortsments of food, noticeably missing a slipper on one of her feet. "Now hurry up and help me set the table. Death said she would be late because of working late. So eat up and them we can head out and meet her at that nee club Odin just opend." As we set the table Famine leans over and wispers, "Oh and angel? Maybe this time, you should let Loki be your wing man. She is much more sensible then my himbo of a brother."

So far you have had a date with Destiny, flirted with Death, and danced with the Devil. You're going to have a serious chat with your wingman next time you go clubbing.

[tasiawrites]

OP men reacting to their gf getting a makeover by Nami and Robin.

Luffy

Bae he probably didnt notice at first

Goes oh you look nice did you change something?? LIKE SIR I EVEN GOT MY HAIR DONE??

Doest change the fact that he loves you.

Overall 10 minutes before he needs you out of your clothes on onto him

Sanji

Certified munch right here

Bae notices and has a nosebleed immediately

Sings your praises like no other

Has to youch you

May have touched too much because now youre in a mating press

Zoro

Notices but doesnt react the way you expected

Why you dressed like the witch?

Bro please i swear he loves you but he liked you the way you were

He shows you that he likes you for you and not your clothes ifkyk

Usopp

My beloved

Blushy mess

Thinks you look good… real good

Instant boner. He cant help it you look edible

Needs to show you how pretty he thinks you look.

Ace

Oh his little bro's friends are interesting

He doesn't hide how much he likes it

He so smooth when he flirts with you oml

Who jumps on who it is never known

When you leave the room your lace is lifting

Rob Lucci

He sees it but acts like he doesnt care

He very much cares

Cares so much he askes to see you because what are you wearing

Nigga don't play, hes horny so very horny

Yall traumatized the bird…. Again

Do flamingo

He let's you out and you come home dressed like this?

This is why he doesn't let you out the house

Makes you do a three sixty

He likes it

You got your ass ate for the first time in your life so i guess that's a good thing?

Crocodile

Again, he lets you out and this is how you come home?

Actually tells you he likes it straight up.

I mean he was gonna marry you regardless but now he needs you wifed up

He learned how to teleport into pussy.

You might be pregnant now

Shanks

HORKNEEE

sir calm down

Hes so attracted to you all the time so this lil makeover means nothing but his fine shyt rebranded

He shows you why all he uses to fight with is aura

The whole ship is congratulating you on the baby when you leave your room the next day

-------

Me? Posting twice in 1 day?

I'm clearing my drafts apparently

I'm also rereading one piece

[waitmyturtles]

Gelboys, and the Delicious Art of Eliciting Cringe

A bunch of my amazing friends are doing an amazing project in rewatching the wonderful 2019 drama, Theory of Love, and watching the romcom films that are thematically associated with each ToL episode. Their recent ToL posts have gotten me thinking about Third and cringe.

When I think about Theory of Love, I always firstly think about wanting to chuck a chancla at Third's conker.

I'm a Khai defender, even while admitting that he was a gigantic putz to Third during a lot of the series. But, as the lovely @lurkingshan said to me when I first tuned into ToL -- Third was the architect of his own misery.

Oh, indeed he was. This incommunicative wet blanket! I wanted to keep yelling at Third: if you crush on a person, they can't read yer mind until you say something about it!

Third filled me with a sense of dread and cringe. He couldn't bring himself to communicate his crush on Khai to Khai. My dread came from watching Khai continue to do his Khai things, with my knowing that Third would get increasingly heartbroken vis à vis Khai, without Third intervening unto himself to stop his cascade into misery until it was too late for him. As a viewer, I saw Third devolve, slowly crumbling into more and more despair.

In my 2023 review of Theory of Love, I argued that part of the show's brilliance in presenting such a pitiful Third at the start was a brilliant narrative move to lull us viewers into feeling a sense of implicit empathy towards Third -- a sympathetic bias that would then lead to us viewers to not question Third on his actually very questionable decisions. I thought it was such a good play on the part of the screenwriters to tease us viewers like this.

What I'm absolutely LOVING about the currently-airing Gelboys are similar feelings of simultaneous empathy and cringe for the guys in the love triangle that's been established as of episode three among Fou4mod, Chian, and Bua.

We were first presented with Fou4mod and his life deal: his wildin' family, his musical predilections, his bisexuality -- and his very strong internal demand for clarity in relationships. Surely the moment of crying in the mall to end episode one gave me the teeny-bopper shivers, but I got the strongest sense of cringe from Fou4mod's behavior at the end of episode two, when we saw him -- in real time!!! -- compromise and negotiate around his internal emotional compass for the sake of keeping the waffling Chian close to him.

(h/t @clairedaring )

That shit was just painful to watch (and it was AMAZINGLY well done). For my sake, it was particularly painful because I could so, so, SO relate to being just like that when I was a teenager.

I'm an old mom and auntie now, but ::hacking cough:: back in mah day, I remember being a 15-year-old teenager and thinking that my only rule in relationships would be that if I was lucky enough to date someone cute, then that would be all I'd need. I wouldn't demand anything else. I'd consider myself worthy if someone cute liked me back.

Cue the sirens and alarms! Someone should have, because of course, with that mindset, I got myself into a whole lot of messy-ass shit, dealing with a bunch of assholes during and well after my college years. I had a common mix of low self-esteem and and ill-conceived priorities that led me to date a string of incompatible dillweeds until I got myself into more mature relationships from my mid-20s on (with those relationships not always being perfect ones, either).

I find the cringe that Fou4mod and Chian present to be SO particularly viscerally painful because, to me -- it is SO relatable.

We have here teenagers who don't know what they're thinking, what they're feeling, what they're even doing -- because they don't have the comparative life experience to know what their actions might result in by way of what we, as the more mature and invisible audience, expect as their natural emotional ends. Fou4mod and Chian have no idea, because this is the first time they're going through these waffling human interactions, in love, dating, courtship, relationships, hook-ups, whatever.

Take even Chian's waffling and cringey behavior. I am loving all the varied takes on Chian (cc @tinrange and @mirmoria). It is so easy at this point, now that we've consumed episode three, to perhaps demonize Chian, and I definitely feel at times like I want to do that, too.

But I want to take a step back and assess Chian's existence as we know it at this moment -- from my perspective, of all things, as a worried mom, and as a former teen myself.

I love what @tinrange presented in her post about Chian's existence and status as a teenager who is very, very alone, and is looking for some kind of connection ANYWHERE, no matter how unhealthy he knows, and his friends know, those connections to be. Chian is so alone, we might even consider his current state one of (temporary?) abandonment. I love that his moment getting advice from chatGPT shocked so many of us to states of stomach discomfort.

But, also -- this kid is ALWAYS connected online. The headphones are in. Killing time with his napping and/or studying friends, watching a drama on 2.0x. Scrolling IG endlessly. Repeatedly editing his Close Friends list. Thinking about the symbolism of sharing a story to literally one person. Receiving the heartbreak, in silence, of realizing those symbolic efforts keep cyclically coming to naught as Bua flip-flops his attention to others.

Chian is in an almost constant state of distraction. During the very few times that we see him disconnected -- like the moment above, when he sees Bua with Moo after doing Bua's nails (like a chump), or the moment when he negotiates his unclear status with Fou4mod -- he is able to, finally, get in touch with the discomfort of the instability of his status with Bua. And it's clearly breaking him.

But he's not stopping the cycle, as of episode three. His wheel, for now, seems to keep turning in the same direction, back towards his attraction to Bua, almost serving Bua the attention that Bua wants, on a platter.

Chian, I'd posit, doesn't have the life experience yet to know how to break that cycle. From the perspective of a worried mom, what would I say to Chian? "That Bua guy is a POS, you gotta move on"?

My advice would be useless, we know that. We know Chian's not been listening to his friends, to the point of his friends giving up on Chian, knowing Chian is going to repeat the cycle of servitude and rejection that he's been dishing up to Bua.

But besides Chian not listening to his friends, I'll say again that Chian -- especially without the physical presence of supportive and empathetic family near him to give him perhaps sounder advice than his friends -- does not have the guidance or skill set to know HOW to change his behavior. He might only be able to break away from Bua when Bua does something idiotic or drastic. Which, we know, will leave Chian even more in the dumps -- because that specific scenario would leave Chian with absolutely no agency to change his hoped-for outcomes.

WE, as the viewers, know how Chian needs to change his behavior. But Chian, as a very wonderfully written natural teenager, has no idea how to do that yet. And I think that's just so very raw and realistic, and it's being beautifully done in this show.

What was great about Khai in Theory of Love was that, in the second half of the series, we saw him engage in very specific acts of behavioral change to get to a place to be a realistic partner to Third. I talked in my ToL piece about how behavioral change is very much the most difficult type of change a human can make.

While I don't have a lot of hope for a positive outcome for Chian (YET), I am at least encouraged by Fou4mod continuing to dally around the center of his own moral compass, hinting to Chian that he'd like an update on that status question, stat.

Fou4mod centers himself around his desire for clarity, even though he's really messing around the edges of it, eliciting the concern of Baabin. But Fou4mod still has that conviction. It hasn't burnt out yet. He has hope, and that hope is defining and disappointing him, as we see in the last scene of the episode, as he stands in-between Bua, Moo, and Chian. And unlike Chian -- Fou4mod has family, lots of it, around him, and a friend that's patiently by his side, there to comment on Fou4mod's navigation of this very titchy and ick situation.

Fou4mod has optimism and is guided by his center. Bua seems like a big ol' playa (but we'll find out more if/when we get an episode about him). While Chian, in many ways, does indeed deserve to be put into a blender, I want to make one little note of hope I have for him, something that makes me cringe at him just a tiny little bit less:

While Bua used his Close Friends list to show off his flirting towards Moo to Chian, Chian removed Fou4mod from his list before he uploaded his own flirtatious moment with Bua.

The whole IG flirting circle thing is just messy and uncool anyway. But at least Chian thought to put up a boundary that Bua himself hadn't thought of. Maybe Chian will show us a glimpse of an internal compass that we're unaware of as this series goes on.

[zooophagous]

PLEASE say more about your cultural understanding of tattoos if/when you feel up to it; your perspective on it is really interesting!

I can only really speak from my own perspective on it as a fairly recent initiate into tattooing, but the way tattoos have been viewed in the past (even the very recent past) had changed very quickly with new technology.

Finer lines become possible, and greater variety of colors, so the necessity of sticking to thick lines and heavy black with few color options is no longer the case. Improved technology means more styles become possible to tattoo in, and as such instead of the restrictions of the media informing the tattoo, tattoos are now available in a wide variety of art styles and the art world and overall cultural zeitgeist now heavily influence tattoos instead of tattoos by necessity having their own set style guides and language.

This means more mass appeal, you can do almost whatever you want art wise now and many tattooers are fine artists in their own right. So now we have more and more women and young professionals into it and not just bikers, gang members or sailors as the stereotypes used to hold.

So now tattoos are trendy for everyone, as the nation slowly but surely sheds its puritanical leanings. But now that tattooing is no longer an underground art form and is largely regulated and legalized, a new underground form of it lives on.

Thanks to online buy-anything sorts of sites like Amazon, Temu and Wish, it's easier than ever for the garage, apartment or party to host impromptu tattoos. And because it is often very difficult to get someone to agree to teach you how to tattoo, almost all of these people are self taught and receive instructions via youtube.

So why then, if you can get anything you want as a tattoo, would people still go for these dubiously sanitary pieces by untrained artists?

Part of it is related to why tattoos may have existed in the first place- they denote your culture, your people, who you belong to. For a lot of the apartment tattoo getters, they're allowing their friends or family members to practice on them as a sign of love and trust.

Part of it is cost. Cheap things always have a market, even if they're not good.

But part of it I think is nihilism. That is, a sense that you have no future, nothing to live for and therefore nothing to lose. Many young people cannot envision themselves in old age and many of them tell you they'll likely die young. So why not, then, get the bad tattoo? The tattoo is temporary because life is temporary. We lead such short desperate lives that refusing a tattoo because of some imagined professional setting you might be in seems as asinine as thinking one day you might be a billionaire. It's just as unattainable.

Throw in a little postmodernism, a little dadaism and you have the perfect storm for the rise of ignorant style tattoos. They're not good, but that's largely the point. They don't have to be. In fact the ugliness is largely the point of this art form. Much like how Duchamp's Fountain was never meant to be a beautiful piece of sculpture but rather a biting satire, ignorant style tattoos become the response to the former underground artform of tattooing going mainstream and suddenly costing thousands and thousands of dollars, and people showing off wealth with perfectly technically done sleeves.

It's for obvious reasons a very divisive style of tattooing, and now even legitimate shops are turning out things that look "bad on purpose" but are technically well applied when examined closely. Personally I think most of them are ugly as shit but what the Hell do I know I'm just some bitch.

[side-of-potatoes]

Ooh haven't done one of these in a while, thanks for the tag! (this is potato's sideblog lol)

Favorite color: Cyan lol, any shade of blue is good too

Currently reading: Just caught up with a fanfic I've been reading over the past few days and am now eagerly awaiting an update. Also some murder mystery detective book I got from a little free library that I'm not that attached to (but still reading cause I'm curious to see who did it)

Last song: Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land by MARINA. Not a song/artist I listen to too often but it was on my playlist for this month.

Last movie: I watched Free Guy with my family yesterday. I think we had a movie on last night too but I didn't pay attention haha

Last series: I've been rewatching The Good Place on in the background while I've been drawing. Also have seen the first few episodes of the Star Wars show Skeleton Crew and I like it so far!

Salt/Savoury/Sweet: Mmmm sweets probably, I love my sweets, although salty is good too when I'm in the mood for it.

Craving: I dunno really. I've been on a fried rice kick lately so maybe that?

Tea/Coffee: Tea for sure, I don't like the taste of coffee.

Currently working on: I have a one-shot I've been working on for a long time that I'm pretty close to finally finishing, and some more videos to edit. (Lately when my friends and I play games together, I've been recording and editing the videos as if we were YouTubers, it's fun!) I also want to do more art (dunno what yet) and write another what-if or side story for consequences. But I also have some rather annoying real life responsibilities that often have to take priority over my creative hobbies which are slowing me down 😔

Tags:

I don't really tag people in these cause it makes me anxious lol but anyone who wants to do it feel free!

Nine people i want to get to know better

Thank you @shortace for the tag

Favourite colour: green

Currently reading: The Bones Beneath My Skin by TJ Klune and Rivals by Jilly Cooper

Last Song: Wait For It from Hamilton

Last Movie: I Saw The TV Glow (again)

Last series: on a Phineas and Ferb rewatch

Sweet, savory, salty: sweet. But not too sweet.

Craving: choc chip cookies (luckily I have some downstairs)

Tea/coffee: coffee. As black as my soul

Currently working on: much good omens fanfiction. So much.

Tagging: @funky-disco-demon @starks-kid @sweet-omens-good-hugs @turtlenec-crowley @snognes @reese-the-usc-girl @reggie-moony @rjcee-art @snek-of-eden