#In case it isn't clear I think OP is stupid

[scarletfasinera]

This was said by someone who confidently declared that a hand-painted sci-fi art piece from the 70s made by a human artist was AI art and therefore bad, and then was proven wrong about it being AI-generated. I wonder what this says about your views of artists and art in general as a subject actually.

[genderkoolaid]

I wanna use this post as a case study in gender essentialism and TERF rhetoric in lesbianism. And I am going to be making assumptions about OP's beliefs and feelings based on this post and their tags.

[Screenshot of a tumblr post and it's tags. OP's url is not shown:

"I'm a man who identifies as a lesbian" got it you're a fucking predator goodbye.

#men canNOT be lesbians what's not clicking #and the fact that anyone could identify as such or actively support someone identifying as such is fucking sickening #as if men trying to force themselves on lesbians and people trying to force men into our attraction isn't bad enough #now we have people actualy identifying as such??? you are chronically online mf #and no this post does not apply to he/him genderfluid or transmasc lesbians who do not identify as men #but it you identify as a MAN and yet also identify as a lesbian then literally block me #and it's a punch to the face if i ever encounter one of y'all motherfuckers in real life #stop invading lesbian spaces #lesbophobia #anti-lesboys #anti-male lesbians #this is just like the bi lesbian bull #men are not involved in lesbianism what's not fucking clicking #men dni #non-lesbians dni #terfs dni]

So, the core problem this person has with male lesbians is, it seems, that "male lesbians" are inherently predatory and "male lesbian" means forcing female lesbians to be attracted to men. They seem to equate "male lesbian" with "(cis) heterosexual man trying to assault or "fix" lesbian women."

Now, this is in contrast with the people who actually, in good faith (not as a joke) identify as male lesbians/lesboys. These people are commonly

Trans men who have transitioned but still identify as lesbians and are still active in the lesbian community, which has been a thing for decades- despite OP saying it's "chronically online". I would really love to see the reaction if you, in real life, punched an older lesbian trans man for existing in his community with his lesbian wife. Do you think people would be on your side?

Other trans* people who identify as lesbians while also being male in some way (for example, being multigender). I know the OP tries to carve out space for genderfluid/transmasc lesbians, but they still do so in a way that makes it clear that the only trans* people "allowed" to be lesbians are the ones who never actually identify as MEN. Just as a fun reminder to all us weird transes that we gotta make sure we never find ourselves too close to that line, or else we have to give up the labels we care for because The Cises have made it law.

These kinds of people have been identifying as lesbians for decades. Trans male lesbians have been well-documented. Male lesbians frequently find happy relationships with other lesbians who are aware of their gender identity. When you see someone calling themself a "male lesbian" or "lesboy", as an actual identity, it's much more likely they are a trans* person with a complex identity, and not a cishet guy making a stupid joke.

And yet, the OP of this post conflates male lesbians/lesboys with this idea of predatory straight men invading the community, not just through violence but through lies and deception. Men are "predators" who are "invading lesbian spaces" to "force themselves on lesbians" and "force lesbians to be attracted to men." Where have we heard this before?

If you took this post, and removed the comments on genderfluid and transmasc people, and the "terfs dni" at the very end, this would be EXTREMELY easy to read as a terf complaining about trans women who are lesbians. Obviously this person does not identify as a terf, and on some level cares about making that clear. Yet they have the same line of thinking: men cannot be lesbians, because men being lesbians is inherently harmful in itself. Men being lesbians inherently means men assaulting lesbians, no matter the actual person behind the label. Because OP is not thinking about male lesbians as people who are identifying that way out a genuine feeling of connection with the label and a desire for community... they must be doing it for nefarious reasons, because that's what males do.

And this person could hypothetically be a crypto-TERF, but I really don't think they are. I think this is a person who genuinely does not like TERFs, and wants to support trans women. They don't want to be a harmful person to people that they are supposed to support.

Yet, they are. Being a TERF or hating trans women, in progressive queer spaces, is a social faux pas, but hating men isn't. So for radical feminist ideology to take root, all it has to do is change "men" from "people assigned male at birth" to "anyone who identifies as a man", and then suddenly you have people who "hate TERFs" who agree wholeheartedly with TERF rhetoric. Because while they might be able to recognize that viewing trans women as predators in lesbian spaces is Wrong, they- and we as queer people in general- have not acknowledged as much how hatred of men is a foundational part of TERF transmisogyny.

So people will freely regurgitate TERF beliefs- men are inherently predatory and dangerous, and this is why men can't be lesbians, because allowing men in women's spaces puts them all in danger, so women must isolate themselves from men and any man who tries to enter a woman's space is a predator- but because they insist that they don't mean "trans women" when they say "men", they feel it's completely unrelated to radical feminism.

Also, notice the hatred to bi lesbians as well! It's almost like radical feminists don't like them very much either, for the same reason (lesbian spaces must be pure!!!!!)

[jelzorz]

137.

Rayla keeps her hair long for one reason and one reason only, and that is that she doesn't have time to keep it short. She'd cut it twice herself in the early days of her quest, but both times ended in choppy, uneven haircuts that she needed to see hairdressers to fix anyway, and both times it cost her a rabbit.

It's easier, these days, to let it grow and to throw it into a bun to keep it out of her face. She hadn't thought it a particularly glamorous look, or even a particularly pretty look, but she catches Callum looking, and well...

Now there's impetus to actually try.

She starts off simple: just her bun and an extra braid in addition to the one behind her ear. She tries for a ponytail a couple of days later and finds Callum isn't quite so responsive to it, so she tries a half-updo after that.

She tells herself she's experimenting, but in her heart, it's because she and Callum still haven't really talked, and mostly she just wants him to notice. Any interaction is better than the awkward pining nonsense between them, and at least she knows he's still a little bit interested, and, in any case, it is experimenting. Sometimes something different is nice.

And, of course, other people start to notice. Not in the same way, but enough to point out that she's doing something different to begin with. Ez says he likes the extra braid. Opeli says the half-updo looks lovely and traditional. Soren surprises her most:

"Hey, pigtails! Cute! You want help trying something else?"

Rayla stares at him. They're on their way down to the blacksmith to see if he can do some maintenance on Rayla's blades which are a bit more complicated than his usual commissions but Soren promises he'll enjoy the challenge. Rayla'd been feeling sentimental this morning, so her hair today is two pigtail braids like the ones she wore when she was younger. She'd actually been thinking about cutting it, now that there's time and it won't cost her an entire rabbit for a trim. "Pardon me?"

"Oh, you've just been... doing different stuff with your hair recently. Just wondered if you want ideas or a hand doing something new."

"You have experience with hair, do you?"

"Sure do," says Soren brightly. "What, you think I would trust someone else to manage these gorgeous locks?" He flips his hair dramatically and Rayla fights the urge to shove him off the path. "Nah, this is all me. Been trying to get Corvus to help me dye it but he's just not an artist in that way."

Rayla stares some more. "You dye your hair?"

"Obviously," snorts Soren. "Seriously, if you need a hand, just say the word. I'm happy to help."

Rayla isn't staring on purpose anymore, she just can't stop. "Oh. I. Didn't think you you were the type to experiment yourself," she admits, although why is less clear. Soren's always taken a little bit of pride in his appearance. It shouldn't be such a surprise. "Where'd—uh—where'd you learn to dye your hair?"

His face falls a little. He shuffles his feet. Rayla figures out the answer before he says it, and she curses herself silently for being so stupid.

"Claudia used to help me do the bits I couldn't reach," he says. "I used to help her braid her hair to pay her back."

"Oh." Oh, because duh and because Rayla doesn't really know what else to say.

They lapse into silence. Soren stares at the flagstones in the bailey as they cross it and Rayla tries not to push herself off the path for being so dumb. She coughs. "I can help you dye it?" she offers at last. "I can probably do a better job than Corvus, anyway. And... maybe you could give mine a little trim if you know how to do that?"

Soren laughs at that, the tension in his shoulders easing a little as they walk. "That'd be nice," he says. "Although, no, I wouldn't trim it. Callum likes it long."

Rayla blinks. Then flushes. She doesn't ask how he knows. "He does, does he?"

"More than he'll admit. He liked the pony tail. Ez and I caught him staring while you were doing it up."

Rayla laughs at that and makes a note of it for another day.

[papirouge]

I already talked several times abt the "anti Zionism is the left equivalent of woke" stupid takes but I'd like to once again to point out here is that "woke" and "Zionism " are NOT equivalent bc one got to be shoved its definition by the very people who HATE "woke". TBH "woke" has yet to get a definition so much idiots have been using this word left and right.

You hardly see people brag about being "woke" these days. The people who incepted this lingo were smart enough to distance themselves from that word as soon as things started to go sour, and hardly any liberal who's being accused of being woke explicitly labeled themselves as such. That's not the case of Zionists.

It's not rare to see Israelis call themselves Zionist. Unlike woke, Zionism has actually a VERY CLEAR definition (despite what some desperate gaslighter will tell you), helped by the literature/political essays aiming to propell this political and religious project into reality. Again : the only people I've seen making book about "woke" were people AGAINST the "woke" movement.

IDK why OP insinuates that "Zionist" is a bad word ("nastiest word"). Zionist isn't derogatory in and of itself. It's extremely dishonest of them to act like it was equivalent to the "pedophile" slur. If "Zionist" was that derogatory, Zionists THEMSELVES wouldn't wear that word as badge of honor, in their social media handle, twitter bio, etc...

Oh and I already said that every person trying to paint the critic of Zionism as a "leftist" thing was an idiot : Muslim countries have been explicitly against what they call the "colonial Zionist entity named as Israel" for DECADES. And they weren't leftits. Western leftists just jumped on the bandwagon. And let's not talk about the growing anti Zionist (edging on antisemitism) sentiment within the western right. So no, unlike the woke (left) vs anti woke (right) thing, the division between Zionist and anti zionism isn't that much cookie cutter between left and right.

People like OP create this artificial delineation only for the sake of their narrative ("Anti Zionism is just like woke but for the left aKtcHualLy uwu")

The only reason (pro Israel) people are seething at anti Zionism is simply bc they oppose zionism, not because they acknowledge Zionism as a political project. And I hate seeing posts like OP thinking they're really doing something comparing apple and oranges (although their post was well intended)

I already told you that since Zionist were losing the sympathy battle, they were now resorting to nitpick about semantics. "Is that really genocide?" "Anti Zionism is antisemitism actually uwu" "from the river to the sea is a pro genocide/islamist dog whistle uwu" etc. Don't let yourself be distracted : while those people are making articles and lengthy posts about choice of words or the history of Israel....babies are being removed from collapsed buildings at the hand of Israel. Never forget that. Stay focus.

[luvleeknowie]

ᴡᴄ: 3358

ᴛᴡ/ᴄᴡ: ᴅᴏᴍ!ᴄʜᴀɴ ▪︎ ꜱᴡɪᴛᴄʜ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ▪︎ ꜰᴀᴄᴇꜱɪᴛᴛɪɴɢ ▪︎ ᴏʀᴀʟ (ꜰ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍ ʀᴇᴄɪᴇᴠɪɴɢ) ▪︎ ɴɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇꜱ( ꜱʟᴜᴛ, ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇꜱꜱ, ʙᴀʙʏ) ▪︎ ᴇɴᴇᴍɪᴇꜱ-ꜰᴜᴄᴋ ʙᴜᴅᴅʏ? ▪︎ ꜱᴛʀᴏɴɢ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ.

(ᴍᴇᴀɴɪɴɢꜰᴜʟ) Qᴜᴏᴛᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʏ: "ɴᴇᴡ ʏᴏʀᴋ ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏ. ʏᴇᴀʜ!"

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The door to the classroom bangs open to reveal Chan. Bang fucking Christopher Chan. He's standing near the doorframe with his bag swung over one of his shoulders. The teacher abruptly stops from whatever it was they were writing on the board and gives a piercing stare at the boy.

"Bang Chan, might as well have waited until class finished before returning." The teacher says sarcastically.

Chan halts in his steps.

"Yeah no, I was actually thinking that but I decided to come just in case...however if you insist-" He says turning on his heels.

"Bang... Christopher...chan.." the teacher says, gritting her teeth.

"If you think you are sooo damn funny, how about you stay back after school to clean up this entire classroom. Miss a bit and you'll be back tomorrow to do it again. Understand?" She says, retuning to the board.

He grits his teeth but takes a seat nonetheless. About 10 minutes later, the bell rings, and chans the first one on his feet.

"Hey guys, you know what funny?" The teacher says, poking her tongue in the inside of her cheek. "

"How I didn't ask anybody to get out of their seats. This is the last time I'm gonna tell you: the bell doesn't dismiss you, I do." She says.

"And don't think for a second that I forgot about the homework. Hand it in, in register order. Only after the first person puts their essay on my desk and leaves can the second person get up, this way I can have a clear view on who has done their work and who hasnt."She says, smiling devilishly.

"Fuck! There was homework?!" I whisper yell at my friend, Yeji, beside me.

"Gurl. I messaged you about this last night. Don't tell me you..." Yeji face palms.

Chan snickers as he gets up to put his paper away and leave. Asshole. Yeji also gets up to put her paper upfront. I try and act as if I'm looking for my paper in my bag, you know the saying "fake it till you make it"? Well that's basically my life motto.

"Kang Y/N." The teacher calls out to me.

I wear ms bag before walking to my teacher, with my head hanging low.

"Let me guess. Your dog ate it again?" She says, her arm crossed and her feet tapping the carpet floor.

"Y/N, this isn't you're first nor the second time. Hell, it isn't even the third time but seventh!!" She yells.

"Gosh, its your seventh time forgetting you're homework this month." She sighs emphasising the word 'month'.

"Sorry Miss, its just that-" She cuts me off.

"Uh- I don't want to hear it. You can join Chris later today." She says.

I take a quick glance at the doorframe to see chan holding his stomach, whilst laughing hysterically. Just you wait till this idiots done with me Christopher.

"Get out of my classroom! Next, kaeo yuruki." I walk out the classroom.

"My dog ate my homework." Chan mimicks, giggling to himself as I walk past. It takes every single cell in my body, not to punch that stupid grin off his face. That handsome yet equally annoying face.

Time skip~

°

°

°

°

The final school bell rings, the teachers and students stampede out of the building. I do too when suddenly Yeji stops me.

"Y/Nah, you've got detention, remember?" She says.

"I'll just skip, what's she gonna do anyway? Call my parents? Exclude me?" I reply reassuringly.

"That's actually not a bad idea Y/N." A voice booms behind me.

Shit. What's she doing here?

"What're you doing Y/N? I thought I made it clear that you're cleaning the classroom. Go on now, I have to get home within 10 minutes. Here are the room keys, the caretakers leave at approximately 5pm and baring in mind that the room usually takes 4 grown adults to clean youll probably be here till 6." She says shoving the key in my face.

I bow before heading back. Yeji gives me a sympathetic smile before leaving. I open the classroom door, and boy was it a mess. I begin tidying up the teachers desk. I hear the classroom door open and then close shut. I turn around to see Bang Chan.

Me and him have never really been on good terms. When I first moved to this school, he asked me out and I rejected him infront of the whole school, baring in mind he was the most popular kid in school. This ruined his pride, self image and more vital aspects that keeps one at the top of a school hierarchy. Ever since then, we have been naturally sworn enemies. However, a very noticeable difference is that he was the most sought-after boy in the whole school - rich, handsome, smart, and athletic. Everybody wanted to be with him while I was just...me. A normal middle class girl with average grades, average friends, average body and average image.

He just walks in, shuts the door and plops himself on one of the decks, watching my every move like a freaking hawk.

"You got anything better to do than stare at me like a freak?" I ask him, rolling my eyes.

"Actually, no. Not when you look so fucking sexy while wiping the desk I'm gonna use to fuck you later." He replies, just as I was gonna look back.

Well that was....direct?? And random??

I feel a pair of arms snaking around my waist and soft lips brushing against the side of my neck.

"Ch-chan..."I stutter, as my bottom lip quivers.

He releases his hold on me and chuckles to himself.

"What wrong baby? What do you want?" He asks teasingly, placing small kisses on my neck.

"I want...please." I whimper, as his hands travel dangerously low.

Why am I losing control? I hate him. We just don't go well together. What's happening?

"What do you want Princess?" He teases.

"You chan. I want you. I want you to fuck me, eat me, ruin me."

He chuckles to himself before letting go off me. Earning himself a frustrated groan.

"Damn Y/N. Who would've thought that you were such a slut. All I did was back hug you and you already gave yourself in. And that too, to your sworn enemy. How pathetic." He says , smirking.

I mentally curse at myself for giving in so easily. I carry on tidying up the teachers desk before moving on to the students desks with chan just sitting there, awkwardly.

Chans POV:~

I initially didn't think I'd be sitting here, I was just gonna bunk detention however Mrs stupid Park caught me. Plus, I thought itd be fun to tease Y/N while I'm at it. You know?..for time pass. Unfortunately, my plan slightly slopped. That girl was doing a great deal of things to me.

When I first came in, I decided to tease her. A part of me felt bad but it was sexy hearing her whimper for me like that. However, the real deal started when she started to wipe the students desk. She bent down to pick up chewing gum from under the table, which lifted her skirt and revealed her baby pink laced panties. I sit in a really awkward position, trying my best for her not to notice my visible boner. That all changed when she moved towards me and bent down right infront of me to clean the desk I was sitting on. That pretty pussy sticking out with her head lightly bowing beneath me. I could feel my boner hardening to the point where it hurt like hell. Just as I was about to get down to leave this heated room, the sound of a key turning fills the room. Oh shit. I run up to the door and try opening it.

"HEY! HEY! IM IN HERE!" I say slamming on the door but to no avail.

"Jeez, calm down." A voice behind me startles me out of my worry.

"I've got the spare key." She says walking up to the door.

Y/N POV:~

I fumble with the lock for a bit and my face sinks, when the lights on the other side of the door turns off and the key doesn't unlock the door.

"Chan." I whisper.

"Hm?" He replies.

"I think...I think we're locked in." I say looking back at him.

"What? You said- are you sure?" He asks, regaining his strong composure.

I nod.

"Where's your phone?" I ask him sitting on  the nearest chair to me.

"In my car. What about you?" He asks me.

"I left it in my locker, since I was gonna do detention. So are we just stuck here?"

"Yup." He says, simply taking the seat directly in front of me so that we are both facing each other.

We just sit there for a few minutes, literally doing nothing. Just sitting. And thinking. It starts to get extremely hot, so I remove my blazer, revealing my tank top. It was a v-neck, so my cleavage was pretty exposed. I hear a gulping sort of sound, and I look up to see Chan staring down at me, his eyes lingering where they shouldn't for a little too long. I clear my throat, and he averts his gaze abruptly. His cheeks flush red.

"Why are you so shy all of a sudden?" I ask, walking up to him.

It's boring in here, who knows how long we'll be stuck in here for? Plus he teased me earlier so I think we can do with a little revenge.

"Do you not like to look at my chest?" A sudden gush of courage goes through me. I don't know what and why I'm doing what I'm doing, but the reaction on his face is simply priceless. To be honest, I'd be cringing if anybody asked me that question, however his facial expressions says other wise. It's as if he's getting turned on...

I start getting a bit frustrated by the lack of response. Slowly but surely I'll get him to move.

"You know what chan? Fuck it. You're hot. Infact you're beyond hot, you're- fuck. You're a divine. You're visuals, you're voice, you're hands- oh those fucking fingers..." I whisper, slowly losing control.

"Oh really? But I thought I was your "enemy,". He snickers.

"Fuck that." I reply hastily.

"We both now that I'd much rather fuck you." He grins.

"Oh cmere you-" I say, grabbing him by the collar and connecting our lips.

He tangles his fingers in my hair, deepening the kiss. He slowly sucks and bites on my lower lip before sliding his tongue in my mouth. He removes his hands from my hair and gropes my ass, all the while carrying me , and sitting me down on the corner of teachers desk.

"You have no damn clue.... how much.... I've wanted this." He says in between kisses.

I smile into the kiss and he slowly unbuttons my uniform blouse. I copy his actions on his first few buttons before unzipping his pants. I then unloosen his tie. Damn. Just imagining him fucking me with a loose tie and top buttons undone drives me insane. He finishes stripping me until all that's left is my under garments.

He reconnects our lips, before unclipping my bra and letting it fall down my arms. He throws it somewhere across the room. He then gently pushes me down so that I'm laying down on the desk. He looks down at me smirking, before lowers his head down on my clothed pussy and licks a stripe up it. I lift my hip up for him to discard my underwear, which he doesn't. Instead he takes it off and stuffs it in his pocket.

He takes a few moments to just stare me down, his eyes traveling from my lips, to my chest, to my stomach and finally my pussy. He takes a good 2 minutes just to stare and blow at my displayed private.

"What a pretty pussy. All for me." Is the last thing he says before practically diving in. He licks and sucks on my folds. In between every few sucks, he spits on it and watches as the spit swims down my folds.

After a while, I feel a familiar knot in my stomach. Honestly I'm not surprised I was so quick to feel my orgasm approaching. I mean not only is this man's tongue working magic, but his intense gaze on my clit is making me feel all sorts of things. It's making me feel special. As if I'm the most beautiful thing he's ever laid eyes on.

"I'm gonna cum Chan."

I let my cum loose and watch it as it paints chans nose, and plump lips.

"You gonna fuck me now?" I ask, breathlessly. Gazing at his glistening face.

"No." He replies.

"What?" I ask him again, doubting my hearing. Was I not good? Did I make weird sounds?

"I want to taste you. More of you. I mean- if that's alright..." He says wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

I nod at him, and without wasting another second he takes my position on the desk, and lays himself down as I sit up.

"Sit on my face baby." He says. The fuck?

"Sit on your-  wait wouldn't that suffocate you- I don't wanna hurt-" Before I could even finish my sentence he grabs me by the hips and pushes me into his face. My eyes naturally roll back.

"That's right. Put all your weight on me. Suffocate me with that deliciously pretty pussy of yours Princess." He mutters, slurping at my wetness.

His nose gently hits my clit earning a series of moans from my mouth. His tongue explores more and deep into my pussy; one spot in particular catching my upmost attention.

"R-right there baby. Right there." I moan arching my back as he penetrates his tongue in and out of me.

I begin moving up and down on his face, concerns of his oxygen completely leaving my head and being replaced by pleasure. Bliss. Lust.

"Cmon baby. Cum for me." He growls into my cunt, the sensation making me go wild.

After a few more thrusts I release onto his tongue, which he happily collects. He then gathers somem of my cum in his tongue and shuffles back up to eye level before connecting our lips and pushing the excess cum into my mouth. I hum against his mouth.

"That was great! But now it's my turn." I say pushing him back down by the chest. He props himself up via his elbows and stares at me intently. I seductively crawl I over to him, until my face is just above his covered crotch, which by now is evidently hardened. I unzip his pants and take it down with his boxers, all the while maintaining eye contact. I then leave small licks across the base and side of his cock before taking it all in one go.

He wraps a handful of my hair around his fists and guides my head in and out of his dick. Making sure that his red leaking tip hits the back of my throat with each thrust.

"Ahhh~ fuck." He moans, tilting his head back.

The action, motivating me to carry on. I bop my head on his hardened member, rolling my tongue over his slit with my warm mouth around his thick, cock grants plenty of high pitched moans.

"Such a pretty sight. Watching those pretty lips wrap around my cock while I face fuck you."

"Ngh~ oh baby."

"Mmm~ just like that... That's a good girl."

"Ah yes. Fuck yes."

" I'm gonna cum baby. Take in every drop like the slut you are. Go on. Otherwise we'll be here all night until you do so properly."

I feel his twitch in my mouth and not surprisingly he cums. I make sure to take in every last drop.

I swallow his seeds and just as I was about to pull out...

"Yo."

"Yo."

"Yo."

"Yo"

"Chan. Where you at chan?"

"Expose your whereabouts or I'll tell the school that you're actually half 52 and you're disguised as a student cuz you're a pedo."

"Seungmin?" Chan mutters.

"Jisung and hyunjin??" I whisper back, finally letting go of his dick.

"What are they doing here?" I ask.

Before both me and chan could react the classroom door swings open.

"Hey chan? Guess what? So miss freaking Park found us outside and was like, "Yo han, you're chans friend right? Well I can't find any of Y/N's friends, who are way more responsible than you so I guess I'll have to trust you with this instead. And then she dangled a key infront of my handsome precious, lovable, exotic-" han gets cut off.

"We get it jisung get to the point." Hyunjin says, sounding visibly annoyed.

"Well she dangled the key infront of my amazing face and I was all like, "hey miss P, the fuck is that?" And she was like "I gave Y/N the wrong key and now I think she's locked in with chan." And I was like "go do it yourself fat ass but she was like "HAN JISUNG!" and then me and hyunjin and seunmin ran here...After grabbing the key of course. And you know what's the funny part? Well when I was running-"

"Han." Seungmin says tapping him on the shoulder with open eyes.

Me and chan just couldn't move, it was like after shock where our brains were just not braining.

"No, seungmo, let me finish." He says.

"And then I tripped over this massive di-"

"Han..look." hyunjin says this time.

Han finally stops and turns his gaze to us. Before anybody could do anything, hyunjin runs away, and seungmin hides in a locker; well he tries to and han...han puts his empty cheesecake box on his head to mimic a blindfold. He politely closes the door and leaves.

"SHIT."

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Reblogs and votes are much appreciated <3

[mikami]

Happy new year in advance op!! Hope you're having a nice day 🍀

I wanted to ask, and im sorry if this is a repeated thing for you, but how is light and misa's relationship clearly sexual? I may just be going off the vague memories I have of the anime but is it so in the manga? Ig that changes my perspective of light in a way, I thought he was just that type of person for whom intellectual stimulation does it. And he disliked misa

It's the case in both the anime and manga, really!

But before I get into "here is why I think it's absurd to assert that they never had sex", I need to clarify that I don't think this means Light was into her. It means Light was keeping her placated by committing to an act he wasn't personally at all interested in. The sad truth is that people can have sex that they just don't enjoy at all, alas.

And now to the reasoning... I think it's important to keep in mind the length of their relationship for this assessment. Light and Misa are a couple for over five years, the majority of which are spent living together - and from the very first time they meet, Misa indicates strong interest in sleeping with Light:

It's clear from the very start that being in a relationship includes sex for Misa and that she's not willing to back off on this topic.

When we meet Misa and Light again after the two year timeskip we see a Misa who is pretty content and very confident in her sensuality around Light. Between lines like "I am going to be a good girl and go to bed alone tonight" implying the existence of nights in which this isn't the case or her chilling on their shared bed seemingly with only panties or even no underwear... There is a level of comfort here that isn't adequate to "girl has been trying to get dick from her boyfriend for five years and not succeeded once".

The picture only gets clearer when it comes to sequences like the above - Light pulls lingerie-clad Misa in for a hug... and she is incredibly confused when he pulls away to walk out instead of, well, getting down and dirty with her.

It's just such a discredit to Misa as a character to assume she is stupid and static enough to spend half a decade being sexually frustrated as hell and somehow still come out of it going 'well, Light may have rejected me for five years in a row but somehow I am still incredibly confused and puzzled that he rejected me this time as well' - like, that'd be downright bizarre levels of unable to understand patterns in behaviour and adjust expectations accordingly.

The anime actually takes this a small step further by, instead of having Light walk out on lingerie-Misa, showing them kissing in the corner of the frame before the scene cuts away.

I hope this explains my reasoning adequately, haha.

And a happy new year to you as well!!

[scatterpatter]

"Where's the essay OP" Said no one, and yet here I am

Lampy isn't stupid, he's neruodivergent: a rushed-together masterpost

Disclaimer: I'm not a liscened medical professional but I'm neurodivergent who's close to many neurodivergent people so I know when certain traits strike me as very familiar... Also tblt is my comfort movie I've seen it probably over 100 times, not exaggerating, so if anyone here's an expert on it, it's me.

I'm only going by the first movie because while To The Rescue and Goes To Mars probably have evidence to back me up, I don't feel like sitting down to watch them as I don't have them as memorized as the original

Point #1: Lampy is arguably the most intelligent appliance in the movie

Honestly it apalls me that so many are convinced that Lampy is an idiot when he displays some of the most intelligent traits in the movie. I'll just list off some of the most important scenes that show this

1: When discussing a way to get to the city, Lampy comes up with plans that end up failing, true. But we should also consider that not only did Radio and Toaster come up with bad plans before deciding on the swivel chair, but 2/3 of Lampy's ideas involved the same mechanic: on something with wheels(yes the mattress had wheels for some reason) being powered by Kirby

2: "From here you can see the really big lamp!" This scene is simply due to the appliances being sheltered from the outside world. Lampy displays the same level of naive-ness as everyone else: Radio seems earnest in calling the sun a "really big lamp", and Kirby calls the grass "shag carpet". Lampy is not at a lower intelligence in this scene, he's exactly at the same level as everyone else

3: The scene with the storm really sells his intelligence. The appliances have a rudimentary understanding of electricity, most likely from being appliances, but Lampy displays an excelled level of understanding by sacrificing himself for the battery. He understands that batteries are powered by electricity, lightning is electricity, and by using himself as a lightning rod, he acts as the conductive metal to easily transfer this energy from the bolt to the battery. Technically this should have overcharged and fried the battery but we'll suspend disbelief for the sake of this movie.

4: He knew that stacking the appliances to roughly human height, creating a dark environment with ominous sounds, and putting Toaster at eye-level to scare the human with his own reflection... Again, this is an intelligent understanding of how to scare a human

5: It's unclear on whose idea it was to look up Rob in a phone book, however this shows that not only can Lampy read(most likely picked up from being Rob's reading light), ESPECIALLY when Toaster struggles to read, but also has an understanding of phone books, addresses, and finding humans based on family names. I cannot stress how intelligent this is for a sentient desk lamp

There's a few more minor examples, but these are the biggest cases. Lampy is intelligent.

Point #2: Lampy struggles with social cues and doesn't empathize as easily as others

My biggest point here is when people think neruodivergents are "dumb" for having trouble picking up on things like sarcasm when that just... isn't the case. A few notable examples include:

1: When Air Conditioner says "You're a real bright little lamp", Lampy doesn't pick up the sarcasm and thinks he's being complimented. Though he definitely shows a level of emotional intelligence because he looks to Toaster to confirm "hey I was complimented", sees they're still looking angry, and gets the hint that he was insulted without someone needing to explicitly tell him that, to which he then responds with "Heyyy >:("

2: Sometimes he's able to read the room and pick up on tones, but other times he shows a level of emotional density. Legitimately not knowing if Rob had returned even when seeing Blanky disappointed to the point of near tears... But then knowing "brains wouldnt hurt either" was a jab at their intelligence and reacting with appropriate annoyance... But also when Radio says "Things could be worse!", doesn't realize he's just saying that to make Toaster feel better and asks "How could they be worse?"

3: He bullies Blanky alongside Radio and the others, unclear if he's actually being a jerk or just "oh this is what everyone else is doing so this is the normal way to act", but he's legitimately confused when Toaster tries to explain why they're suddenly being nice to him. He doesn't get the "now I feel better" argument because his argument was "Well you were never this nice to him before". Even when Toaster tries to explain why it feels nice, it just doesn't click... until Toaster finds a way to explain that connects personally to Lampy's own emotional state. He has trouble empathizing until realizing "oh this is like this thing that I feel sometimes"

4: Something I've noticed when gathering evidence is that more than once, Lampy goes "Wow..." After someone gloats about themself(Twice with Radio, once with the Computer). It's clear by the third time, when Radio goes "What does that mean?" And Lampy responds "I don't know. [To Computer] What does that mean?" That he doesn't even know what's being gloated about, let alone why he should be impressed. He has the emotional intelligence to recognize when someone's gloating and the "appropriate" response of amazement, but it seems like it never comes from a place of earnest. (While Neurotypicals can and do engage in "performative" behavior, I tend to notice this way more commonly with neurodivergents)

Also the "wow..." Performative thing is VERY reminiscent of Peridot from Steven Universe(a characters who many autistic fans see themselves in and the creator herself saying she doesn't consider Peridot or any of the gems to be neurotypical) going "wow thanks" as her default "this is how I've been taught to show gratitude" response

Point #3: Miscellaneous traits that could be neurodivergent

These traits COULD be interpreted as neurodivergent, but I will admit they could also be interpreted as something else so like take these with a grain of salt

1: Lampy appears to have sensory needs. When sleeping, he needs to tap a rock a few times(presumably to make sure it's "right") before clonking his head on it. It's interesting because rocks aren't a very "lamp" thing whatsoever, and none of the other appliances look for pillow-ish objects to rest on, so this could be a sensory thing.

2: Lampy has an interesting vocal quirk: repetition of phrases at the beginning and end of a sentence. Instances include "How exactly do you propose we do that, exactly?" "All of a sudden you're being so darn nice to him all of a sudden" "The fact is there's just not enough facts" The third one is a bit of a stretch but the first two seem to indicate a possible pattern of speech. Part of me wants to say this could be a verbal tic or some type of verbal stimming, but I've never met anyone who has a tic or stim like this so I can't say it's a neurodivergent thing with confidence, but I wanted to mention this quirk regardless.

3: Physically saying how he feels. Two instances where multiple characters are laughing, Lampy speaks while laughing "That's funny - I'm dying!" "I'm aching with joy!". It's just interesting that no one else speaks while laughing and for whatever reason, Lampy needs to verbalize "Yes I find this very funny" as if simply laughing along isn't enough. I've seen somewhat similar stuff in neurodivergents who have issues expressing emotions implicitly so they state them explicitly instead.

4: I've noticed Lampy isn't touchy... except with Radio. Some neurodivergent people can have issues with physical contact, which could explain that. But I've also noticed that Radio also gives me huge neurodivergent vibes... But more importantly Radio is extremely touchy with everyone, Lampy included, hence them often getting into physical fights but also just- tapping them or wrapping a cord around the other and pulling him close(they're so in love but that's a post on its own). A possible explanation is Lampy having issues with touching others, but either feels comfortable being touchy with Radio(due to emotional bonds and trust) or simply recognizes "Radio likes being touchy so I should be touchy back". A stretch of an argument, I'll admit, but I think the interpretation is there and valid.

In conclusion

I mean idk if Lampy was written to be neurodivergent or if the writers just wanted him to be "quirky" and accidentally gave him a lot of neurodivergent traits, but he reads as very neurodivergent to me(probably autistic or adhd but I'm not a professional and can't diagnose him). But while I can chalk up neruodivergency being one of many possible interpretations of his character, I WILL argue that he's not "stupid" given the evidence we see throughout the movie

Tl;Dr: Lampy is evidently intelligent, but sometimes struggles with social cues, empathy, and overall shows numerous traits of neurodivergency

[razrbladekiss]

Tyrants | Chapter Four - Peril

WORD COUNT: 5.1k

WARNINGS: Mentions of death, drug use, Tig being Tig. The usual SOA shit. Sorry Donna..

She always saw the beauty in darkness. The lugubrious belle that came alongside the moon and stars and whatever else lurked amidst the murk of nighttime.

Isla was cliche in that sense.

She was cliche in the sense that she adored watching the sun set, swallowed by the mountains and high-rise buildings as the evening fell and Charming was painted black.

And maybe it was mostly melancholic because of the horrors that swathed that small town, but it was still beautiful nonetheless.

She still liked to bask in the scenery, to discern the marvel of her home, from the highest point she could access. And, sometimes, she liked to take somebody along with her so she wasn't completely alone.

"Why'd you still come up here?" Ope asked, pulling himself onto the roof as she sat with her back to the wall--puffing on a cigarette.

"Because it's quiet." She was content, comfortable with her response. "And whenever I'm looking for Jax, or Gem, or my dad--or they're looking for me--this is where we're almost always found. Just people watching, or reminiscing, or having a few minutes to ourselves away from the chaos downstairs."

It wasn't an unknown safe space--Gemma had told her that JT and Clay would climb up there during the earliest days of the club--but it was special.

Jax, Opie, and Isla spent time up there as kids, too. Because they were bastards and were always running from their fathers--and den mother--and the roof of the clubhouse was their go-to.

She never really got out of that habit. She'd spend hours up there if she could, just watching as Charming bustled beneath her. And she liked that it was separate to the garage, but everyone knew where to find her if they needed her.

"It clears your head, being up here." She added. "I have got so much shit going on right now--between work, and my personal life--but coming up here is like a refreshment, I guess."

Opie understood what she meant because he was also seeking comfort in the night. Riding through dusk, spending time alone on his bike as he cruised the streets of his quaint town, relishing in the darkness because it was strangely comforting to him.

He liked to be alone. His thoughts were brutal and they seared his brain left and fucking right, but he liked his own company.

"Wish I thought about comin' up here when I was released from holding." The man chuckled, balancing a cigarette between his lips. "Stahl grilled the fuck outta me."

"She did?"

"Yeah. She really fuckin' did." He added, grunting as smoke blew from his nostrils. "Did she get you? I know she got Gemma."

"Nope, she didn't. I don't know why, though. She interrogated everyone else. Starting to feel a little left out."

Opie chuckled, smiling a bit. "Be glad. It's obvious that she's used to getting what she wants."

"And did you give it to her?"

"Fuck no." Isla smiled. Proud. "She can cross-examine me all she fuckin' wants—I'll never sell the club out."

"They know that, Ope."

"I know." Half confidently, he nodded. "Just—Stahl made me second guess it all, y'know?"

Nobody in Charming--aside from the PD--knew where that despicable bitch came from, and nobody cared to ask.

What they did know, though, was that she had her heart set on making that town a living fucking hell as she strived to eradicate the Sons of Anarchy by getting to its members.

She'd grilled everyone she could've. She cornered Gemma when she was out running errands, leaving the grocery store with a sour taste in her mouth when Teller told her where to fucking shove it.

Same went for Jax, and Clay, and Chibs, and Tig, and...Well, all of them told her to get fucked, actually.

None of them caved. None of them wanted to sell the club out because there was no reason to.

Well, there was a reason to, but no desire to.

There'd been murders. Three, to be specific. And one of them just happened to be a police officer--which was quite unlucky, but it wasn't awful.

They hated cops.

What they hated more, however, was the idea of getting caught by them. And Clay was. Somehow, anyway.

Piney's old "friend"--Nate Meineke--needed quality, albeit illegal, guns with no traceability to attack the convoy that was transporting one of his friends from point A to point B. And it went as swimmingly as possible...

Until June Stahl was put on the case and found that idiot's phone at the scene after dropping it mid-ambush.

Clay just happened to be the last person he had called. Which then caused the investigation to point toward Charming.

They all knew the Sons were guilty of supplying those weapons. Who else would it have been? They were known for running illegal firearms without batch numbers from a quaint Californian town whose name didn't quite fit its image.

It was blatant, though nobody gave it up.

But Stahl tried her damndest to get answers. And when she didn't, she targeted the member that she saw to be the most vulnerable--after a hit went wrong and he failed to cover his tracks--and Opie just happened to be that guy.

She questioned him for hours. She practically held the man captive in that little cell until he caved. But he didn't--and he wasn't going to, either.

He was loyal. That's one of the reasons why Jax wanted to patch him back in.

"Yeah, I know." Isla got to her feet when she heard Tig yelling for her downstairs. "But you're the strongest guy I know, Ope. I don't think Stahl, of all people, is gonna get to you."

He shrugged her off, flicking the butt of his cigarette to the gravelly ground of the roof.

Opie had changed. Not much, and it wasn't very apparent, but he'd changed. Chino had changed him, she thought.

He was still dedicated to his club, still in love with the reaper and the responsibility that came with the patch--but Opie Winston lacked that flicker of enthusiasm now.

"How does your dad feel about you being back at the table?"

"Said he's proud of me."

He was a man of very, very few words. But the tone that he took--the sheer relief twined into contentment--spoke a greater volume.

Piney would always support his son, feel a sense of gratification from his involvement in the club. And, of course, Ope felt grateful to be back--but it was different now.

He'd served time for his club. Donna consistently argued that they sold him out and that he was fucking stupid for running back into the arms of SAMCRO.

But it was his brotherhood. The Sons of Anarchy were his family--his lifeline. He was nothing if not blessed to be patched back in.

"And I guess that wife of yours isn't too happy about it?"

"How'd you reach that conclusion?"

"Well," she ignored that Tig was waiting for her, standing directly in front of him. "If she was genuinely thrilled about you being back here, she'd have been coming to Gemma's dinners, and spending more time at the clubhouse with us. But she isn't, and I'm starting to realize that she probably hates me now."

His head shook. "She doesn't hate you. It's just...It's just raw. Weird being back, I think."

"She didn't even have to leave. She knows that."

Donna did know that. But there was always something about Gemma. About the way she let things slide so often, how she felt that she had Clay so pussy whipped that he'd be at her every beck and call--but, really, that was redundant. Because Gemma let him get away with fucking murder.

Literally.

"Is she gonna be there tonight?

"Of course. She wouldn't miss Jax's son coming home." He got up, reaching for her hands. "Sorry that she's been so distant with you, Isla. But she's just been stressed out--money worries and the kids and stuff, y'know?"

"Yeah, I know."

Donna wasn't traditionally a worrier. But five years worth of finances, being a single mom, and fretting over her husband potentially not making it out of prison alive, just did that to a woman.

"Anything I can do to help?"

"I don't think so." Grateful for her offering, though recognizing how damn stubborn his wife was, he conceded. "Thanks, though."

"Anytime. And if you change your mind, or need me, you know where I am--"

"Isla!"

"He is getting on my last fucking nerve today." She groaned, flipping Tig off as she looked over the ledge. "I'm coming! Give me a minute!"

"I've given you plenty of minutes! Just get your ass down here!"

"Just go," Ope chuckled, leaning down to peck her cheek. "We can have this talk another time."

Isla turned back to him, frowning. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. Go 'n talk to him--I'll see you tonight."

He was such a nice guy. So considerate, kind.

She loved him a lot.

The flouncy sundress rose to the middle of her thighs as she sauntered through the clubhouse, hearing Trager talking--rather conspicuously, though slightly muffled--to somebody on his cell.

"C'mon, Tiggy. Why'd you yell at me?"

He waved his hand to shut her up, gesturing for the blonde to follow him out of the clubhouse and toward his bike.

"Yeah, cool. K, brother--see 'ya later. Bye." He hung up and slid the phone into the pocket of his cut, swiveling to face Isla with a smile. "You ready?"

"For what?"

"The party?" Tig told her, watching confusion sweep over her face. "I'm taking you over 'cuz you want a drink and don't wanna drive home after? And that you're probably gonna end up heading home with Juice, or something--"

"Juice?"

"It always happens," he shrugged, pointing at the helmet he set out for her at the back of his bike. "We all head out, you get too drunk, you take a liking to Juicy, and you try to ride his dick."

"What?" Isla got herself situated behind him as he got on first, her arms wound around his waist. "That was one time. I've only slept with him once, and I told you it'd never happen again."

"And why is that?"

Her cheeks flushed red, the engine revving sending vibrations through her entire frame.

"Because he was too gentle." Tig's foot collided with the kickstand.

"And the little Catholic girl likes it rough."

She felt the solid gold crucifix burning a hole into her chest.

"Yes. I like it rough." He groaned, leaning into her. She swatted at his chest over his shoulder, laughing heartily. "Just take me to see the baby, dickhead."

The bike sped out of the lot and Isla was loving the thrill of being on two wheels. She'd always liked being stuck to the back of somebody's Harley--but she'd never own one herself.

Isla was like Gemma. She felt stable enough riding with somebody, but riding alone--being in control of the motorcycle--was fucking terrifying.

Jax and Opie had encouraged her to take a ride at one point, but it didn't end very well, and Chibs spent the best part of two hours trying to stitch his daughter back up whilst Gemma castigated the two imbeciles who thought it was even reminiscent of a good idea.

Weaving through traffic gracefully, freely, was appealing to her, however. But she wouldn't be caught dead--alone--on a fucking bike.

Plus, she quite enjoyed being taken places. Escorted by a member of the club. It was safe.

The wind whirred and whipped around them, and she wished she didn't make the effort with her hair tonight. It was ruined, tousled to within an inch of its life, and she dreaded the thought of having to brush the knots out in Jax's bathroom.

Still, commuting via Harley was a hell of a lot quicker and had a few more benefits than commuting via car.

But the looks that they got were piercing. Horrible. Mainly from Hale stationed beside his squad car, watching as Isla and Tig raced down the freeway.

"He likes you." He spoke over the roaring engine when he hit the first stop light all night. "He hates that you've never given him a chance--"

"He's a cop, and I'm the outlaw's daughter. I've been raised to hate his kind."

Tig nodded his approval, setting off once again when the light switched to green and all opposing traffic stood still.

At one strange point in time, David Hale had his sights set on Isla Telford. He was in love with her. Completely besotted.

And she never gave him a second glance because, for one, she wasn't interested. He hated that she was so close to Jax and Opie, but not him, and he wished that she'd push herself away from the bad guys to grow closer to the heroic law-enforcer.

But he was a control freak above everything else, and Isla was just a free-spirit. She was loyal to her friends and family but she didn't want to get tied down, and she didn't want to become friendly with a fucking cop.

The only cop she liked was crooked. And Unser was in a similar spot to her--a little too affiliated with SAMCRO, but not completely doted on. Though, they were both strangely essential fixtures, and Clay would've been lost without them.

"Juice is here." Tig taunted as he helped her off the bike, holding her hand when she stumbled over herself a little. "Try to keep those panties on."

"Can't make any promises, Tiger." Her growl was seductive, though he knew that she was fucking with him.

She'd given up rebuking his claims, instead feeding into them because, with Trager, she couldn't seem to win. He was sleazy, and she loved that back and forth.

What she loved more, though, was that he was comfortable. He was a strange man, and nobody really understood just where he came from, but Isla liked that she could make jokes of any kind around him. He was easy to get along with. Easy to love.

And, man, did she love Alex Trager.

"If you do fuck him, though, would you make a video?"

Isla stepped into Jax's front room, turning on her heels. "Who said that we haven't already got one?"

She chuckled and wandered into the party, leaving Tig with a few convoluted thoughts and even more raunchy questions.

"Fuck. Gemma taught her well." He grumbled under his breath, reaching for the beer in Half-Sack's hand.

He slumped on the couch, motioning for his usual lay to sit in his lap as he watched Juice fawn over his little blonde friend making conversation with some other random woman already.

"Yeah, totally..." she agreed with whatever the girl was saying, but her eyes were glued on Tara. Just floating around the party.

She felt bad that the doctor was alone. Despite all that she thought of her, being out of ones depth in such an intimidating setting wasn't very nice. And Isla was an empath.

"D'ya think anyone 'round here has any nail glue?"

"Gemma might." She smiled, pointing toward the kitchen.

Grateful that she managed to shake that one off, Isla weaved through the small conclave and sat beside Tara, offering a friendly face during a time of such discomfiture.

Her heart was aching, the sheer nervousness was palpable, and she knew that Tara felt the same way too.

But Isla just sucked it up. Because she wanted to talk to her, and had to be the one to initiate it.

"Thanks for coming." Her smile was wide, genuine.

She offered a beer to the brunette, hoping that she'd take it.

"Thanks for asking me here." Tara accepted it, glad that Isla remembered she wasn't particularly a wine girl like herself.

Christ. This is awkward.

"Trust me, you were the first person I asked to come tonight."

"How so?"

"Well," a little bit more comfortably, she faced her completely, "you've literally nursed Abel back to health. You've been there every step of the way. You've been the best surgeon. And, as much as I hate to say it, you helped Wendy so much, Tara. I'm really thankful for all that you've done for this family."

"It's my job." She tried to brush the comments off, but her heart definitely fluttered at the praise.

Isla never changed. She was still the sweetest soul, she thought.

"I know, but you've had it rough with this lot--with Gemma, I mean."

"She isn't anything I can't handle." Confidently, she asserted.

"I know, and I'm glad that you're able to stand your ground." Reluctant, a hand landed against Tara's palm.

She jolted a little bit, but softened into the embrace.

It was comfy, warm. Prosperous, perhaps, because it meant something. Tara not jerking away and leaving once Isla offered a friendly embrace, was promising.

They spoke about the baby for a little while, and shared a few laughs at Tig's expense. It was strange, really. To be talking to her ex-best friend was strange, but she'd missed it.

Donna joined the mix, too, and it was starting to feel like old times. Isla recognized that they'd never slip back into that routine, the dedication to one another that they'd known when they were kids--but it was nice.

The conversation stuttered and it wasn't able to flow as freely as what she might've liked, but it was a start.

To know that she had something resembling an acquaintanceship with two women she admired, was nice.

And Jax introducing his baby to his brand new home, to his extended family that were already so fucking dedicated to him, was just the most wonderful thing ever.

"What about a beer?" Clay joked, holding the bottle close to Abel. Jax laughed, though he shook his hand away. "What? Grandpa can't give him his first beer?"

"No, he can't."

"I'll take it, though. If you're offerin'." Chibs grabbed the Budweiser and twisted the cap with the leather grip of his glove.

He gestured to Isla, tipping it toward her. "Want some?"

"No, you're alright." She went back to her wine, smiling at that little bundle of happiness in Jax's arms, wondering how the hell he'd gotten to be in this position now.

But it was because of Tara. Her commitment, her talent, and sheer want to help that angel through the roughest patch that a baby could have possibly been thrust into.

How Gemma could still loathe that girl--after everything she did--was beyond her completely.

Tara was the unlikeliest hero in Abel's story.

"Why is it that every time I see you, your highlights get more chunky?" Gemma smiled at the comment, turning to see her favorite girl, flaunting the most beautiful smile.

She handed Isla the bottle of whatever wine Chibs could get this evening, unable to quit beaming at the thought of her grandson finally being at home. Where he belonged.

"I told you I'd do them for you, Gem."

"I know," she nodded, playing with a few strands of hair, "I was gonna ask you, but you've been a little distant this week--didn't wanna add to your workload, baby."

"That's super considerate of you. Are you alright?" Isla teased, holding a hand to Gemma's forehead.

She slapped it away with a laugh. "Fuck you. I'm always considerate."

"Sure you are. That's why Wendy is here, right?"

"No," her head shook, "she's here 'cuz this is her house. If I had it my way, she'd be out on her ass faster than what you could even say 'crank whore.'"

Isla wiped at her lips with the back of her hand, tipping her head toward the blonde in the living room.

"I thought you made sure she was gonna be here tonight?" Confused, she quizzed.

She was under the impression that Wendy was starting to grow on her. After she'd tried to kill her, of course.

"I did," Gem confirmed. "But only because I knew it'd be awkward between her and Tara."

Amazed, or maybe fucking horrified, Isla simply glared at her.

It should've been obvious to her--plain as day--that Gemma Teller doing a good thing was simply a bullshit facade, built in order to take away from the fact she wanted to do an inherently bad thing.

But Isla liked to see the good in people, so it wasn't. And that really was one of her mot fatal flaws.

"She thanked me for letting her stay, too."

"And what'd you say to her?" Almost as if she didn't want to know the answer, she asked.

Black nails danced along the rim of her wine glass as she leaned against the counter, watching everybody enjoy themselves as they bitched and moaned.

"That she's lucky to be alive."

"Jesus, Gem," her head shook disparagingly, disappointed perhaps.

But being surprised that the woman made a threatening comment toward Wendy, was just as stupid as being surprised at Tig for fucking another hooker during his free time.

"You've gotta keep her close, ma. She's the mother of your grandson, the woman your son did love at one point."

Ma. The word rolled off her tongue unintentionally most of the time, but she didn't hate it.

Gemma was the mother figure in her life--hell, she was the mother figure in a few of the Sons' lives--and it didn't feel weird using that around her. It was affectionate. She adored it.

"Jax never loved her," matter of fact, she retorted. "They got drunk together. They smoked dope together. They didn't love one another--"

"They got married." Isla reminded her. "They have a kid together. They have a lot of history."

"Just because they have history, doesn't mean they love one another. You've got history with him."

Her chuckle was throaty, almost a full-on splutter. "We have not got that same history--we're friends, Gem, you know that's different."

She supposed the blonde was right.

There was hell of a contrast between friends for life and friends with benefits--and Gemma knew that. She just didn't like that Jax gravitated toward Wendy when he'd always had Isla right there in front of him.

Though, she was more than aware that the pair didn't look at each other that way--she still lauded the thought of the two together.

"I still hate her."

"I know," Isla laughed at Gemma's irritability, sipping on her wine, enjoying the sight of everybody having a damn good time.

"She's checking into rehab, too."

"Really? Where?"

"Some place in Oakland, I think." Gemma added, smiling at Clay when he wandered over to the pair. "But you didn't hear that from me."

"You think she's gonna stick to it?"

"Couldn't tell 'ya." He answered for his wife, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to Isla's cheek. "She's determined though, I'll give her that."

"Yeah?" His nod was optimistic--strange for Clay Morrow. "Well, I'm glad she's working on herself, anyway. She's got potential."

"You hate her."

"I know." She didn't refute the assertion. "But I'm still happy for her."

At least somebody is.

She wasn't lying. Wendy was a good girl, a woman tortured for no good reason. And she felt for her, she really did.

It'd been a shock, finding out that she was pregnant. But it wasn't like they weren't expecting it--what with the rate she and Jax were going at it.

From the start, Isla and Gemma were worried. She was notorious for her crank habit and the girls thought she was going to kill herself before she had the chance to see her son into the world.

And that almost happened, didn't it?

The doctors at St. Thomas were fucking miracle workers--Isla was on pins and needles waiting for a call to say that Wendy and Abel were okay.

But she tried not to dwell on that, now. They were both as healthy and Abel was as happy as he could've been, so Isla was content. She wasn't pleased, but she was comfortable with the way that things were going.

Tara, however.

"No!" She yelled, backing out of the nursery. "No, fuck you, Jax."

Juice stumbled backward when she nudged him out of the way, pulling her purse from the kitchen counter.

Isla and Gemma couldn't not stare.

"Tara, c'mon!" Jax called after her, but it was too late.

The front door had been slammed shut and the party came to a complete standstill. A thickening tension was shrouding the group, and things were only just starting to simmer.

"What was that all about?" The blonde asked Juice, leaning against the island.

She didn't want to prove Tig to be right but, after a few glasses of wine, Juan Carlos Ortiz was starting to pique her interests.

He swallowed thickly, watching Clay leave the room. "He said something about Wendy--wanting to keep whatever it is that he and Tara have going on the down low so it doesn't set her off, or something."

Makes sense.

"He has a point. She's doing really well lately." He continued. "Jax would hate to stunt her progress by shoving his relationship with Tara in her face."

Isla was rattled.

Jax hadn't talked to her in days, and she wasn't aware that so much had changed. She wasn't aware that he had established a relationship with Tara Knowles.

Again.

You know what they're like--like two fucking magnets or something. They always find a way back to one another.

She was too irritated to reside in that same room as Gemma, now. Knowing the conversation she'd initiate the second that Juice left was too fucking much. So she left first, instead.

The living room was almost empty. Just Clay, Bobby, Tig, and Chibs sat around the couches as Donna, the kids, and Ope were preparing to set off.

Everything was annoying her, now. She hadn't made the effort with Donna all night, but she was pissed that she hadn't started to say goodbye to her yet.

Isla was so fucking irritated that she didn't even want to talk to Tig, or her father. So she didn't.

"Where're you going, petal?" Chibs asked, hindering her plan to keep her mouth shut for the rest of the night. He knew that she'd crack a smile at the nickname.

"I was just wandering. Not really sure what to do with myself."

"Come sit down," he gestured to the space between himself and Tig, and wound an arm around her when she met the leather. "I've missed 'ya."

"Tonight? Or just in general."

"In general. It's been a few days, love."

"I know, I'm sorry." Her head rested against his Sgt. At Arms patch, and she sighed. "Work has been so fucking busy and I feel like I haven't gotten a moment to myself this week."

Isla only worked a part-time gig at some shitty salon just on the outskirts of Charming--edging into Stockton--but she hated her job.

She hated driving into the city every morning and evening, wasting a fuck ton of her paycheck on gas when, really, there was no point.

She hated her cunt boss.

Hated her cunt clients.

She hated that nobody really spoke to her because of who her father was. And when they did speak to her, it was almost like they were scared. Of Isla.

Gemma had always promised her that there was a space at the auto shop for her had she needed it, but she couldn't think of anything worse than having to answer to Gemma and Clay every single day.

Well, more than what she already was, anyway.

"Who'd 'a thought that being a hairdresser was so demanding?"

"Me, apparently." She joked, watching Tig get up and leave the room.

It'd turned somber. A little too bleak for her liking, but she guessed that everyone felt a bit awkward after Tara stamped out and Jax sat on his porch. Alone. With a bottle of whiskey.

She hated the hold that woman had over him sometimes. The way he was so fucking devoted to Tara Knowles that she could literally slap him, scream in his face, and ruin his son's homecoming party--and he would still pine for her.

She'd never understand that.

And she didn't understand how such a lively bunch of individuals had mellowed out over the course of two hours, either.

The party had disappeared. Dissipated into nothing and the atmosphere she once lauded was completely dead in the water.

It was fucking grim, and she couldn't wait to head home.

"Can I come with you tonight?"

"Why'd you even ask? Y'know you're welcome to come home with your old man whenever you want." Chibs told her a little bit stern, though it was essentially full of love.

She just smiled up at him, a bit buzzed. But she was having a good-ish time and who was he to chastise her for drinking a little too much tonight?

"Wanna head off now?"

"Yeah--lemme just say 'bye' to Gemma."

"Alright, I'll be out front. Don't forget your purse." He reminded, knowing she was too ditsy for her own good.

Chibs helped her to her feet, letting go of her hand only to part ways for a few moments.

Her mood was perking up, now. The prospect of being able to spend a few hours with her dad after a long fucking day, was just the best.

And she'd really missed him. Missed the time they once had an abundance of. Missed the evenings that they'd spend talking, drinking, watching movies, doing the generic father daughter activities.

They hadn't had that for a while, and it was truly a blessing that it was within reach tonight.

Well. It was within reach for all of five minutes.

"Oh my God--" Gemma's cell slipped from between black nails and bounced across the table. Saturated hues were locked on Isla, and her head shook.

"What?"

"There's--there's been an accident." She managed to muster out. "Or, maybe a drive-by, I don't know, but Donna--"

"Donna?" Piney's attention was snatched at the mention of his daughter-in-law. He stood up. "What about her?"

Isla knew the answer. She knew what Gemma was going to say because it was just the usual now, wasn't it?

Being affiliated with SAMCRO just did that to somebody. Man, woman, child. They didn't fucking care.

"She's--Piney, she's dead."

[yurissweettooth]

Hey! Curiosity is killing me, so I want to ask: Do you have an unpopular opinion or something like that about T&B? It's ok if you don't want to answer!

Hi!! Thanks for the ask! :D In all honesty I don't think I have too many truly unpopular opinions or at least not many that are hot takes or anything. My criticisms and whatnot of the show and characters tend to line up with other people's in most cases. But! A few lukewarm takes I have under the cut...

-I think the biggest one is that I don't particularly like the way the fandom treats Ivan like he's a soft, innocent little baby. I relate to him a lot and I find that we're quite similar both in personality, interests, and insecurities so I always found it cool to see him grow stronger and more confident. However, I feel like a lot people lump him in with the kids due to his height and shy/insecure personality. It's weird because he's friends with Keith (and also seems to be the main one supporting/helping him and not vice versa) who is far more immature, ditsy, and childlike yet because of his looks he is seen and treated as an adult by the fandom while Ivan isn't. IVAN IS AN ADULT TOO! Us short, sensitive, baby faced adults are still adults! >:( -The first OP is greatly superior, I skip the second one every time other than on the first episode it appears on. -I feel bad for Edward. I know he did some terrible things but I don't think he's a villain like I see a lot of people portray him as. He was a kid who tried to do what he thought was right and made a mistake that ruined his life and likely left him with trauma that he's handling poorly. -I'm not really that big of a fan of Taibani. Like, I DO like them and I think they're cute but I mostly only get hyped while I'm actively watching the show since they're just there, outside of that I rarely think about them or have any strong feelings (unless it's Barnaby/Kotetsu/Yuri or Apollon Trio ships). Even if Taibani became canon I would just make my own ships anyway like Bunny/Yuri and Kotetsu/Antonio because I love my rarepairs... -Ryan is kinda boring and unlikeable in canon, I only like him when he's got 5 million headcanons slapped on him or for pairings. -Jake is the sexiest character in the whole show and no I will not be taking questions (Yuri is close second but I just love crusty men with shitty tattoos who don't know how to dress). Honestly if it weren't for the fact that he died or the fact that he threw Yuri's trauma in his face in the manga he might actually have been my favorite character. -Much like everyone else I will continue to bully him relentlessly for it anyway but... I actually like how Barnaby's empty apartment looks😐 -Virgil's story is kind of stupid as is the whole main plot of the Rising. Still love him and his movie though. -Yuri should have kept his ugly reaper outfit because it was 100% superior and cooler than the regular Lunatic suit we see now. He has a clear theme and motif going here, wtf is he supposed to be in the current version?