#it's upsetting me and my homegirls but it's the truth

[allpromarlo]

i love the ravens but i'd do unimaginable things to not have to watch them on saturday

[raguonmynieceandnephew]

EPIC THE MUSICAL ACT ONE SONGS RANKED BY ME

The first act is out and recency bias towards saga 5 has passed. let's go lesbians

20 - POLYPHEMUS

I would like to express that just because she is last she isn't bad, ok? The worst Epic song is better than your fave's entire discography, let's not get it twisted. That being said, Polyphemus is by far the weakest for me. It's just too slow, and like, of course it is, it's the build up for the plot defining moment of the show. It has to be slow to contrast with the explosion that will come right after. But it's soooo much and so not the vibe for me. Still love her tho

19 - LUCK RUNS OUT

Not gonna lie, this song is only this low because they changed the "We could be caught of guard" verse. It was SOOOOOOO much better than the melodic version, like, that was a giga downgrade it really upset me and my homegirls ngl

18 - WARRIOR OF THE MIND

Again, a queen, a trendsetter, a trailblazer, we love athena, but her songs in the beginning of the musical are kinda not my thing. Warrior of the mind sounds so weird to me in its saga, i struggle making it fit in my head.

17 - STORM

Wait, wait hear me out, hear me out! Don't shoot! It lacks flavor. It lacks a spice, it lacks something it. I really wasn't feeling it much in the tiktok teaser days of this one, and while the full release is good (again, there is no such thing as a bad epic song) storm left me wanting more, not in a too good of a way. It felt like there was something that needed to be there, a je ne sais quoi, idk

16 - SURVIVE

I think i might get doxxed for this list, but it is my truth. TBH we reached a point in which i have no qualms with the songs. Survive is definitely not bad but like, it gets outshone by literally everyone else in the list so it goes here.

15 - THERE ARE OTHER WAYS

Ooooooh boy. I hate that she is so low. I do, I really do. The second verse just doesn't do it for me as much as the first, and it sucks because the intro and the duet are a fucking masterclass.

14 - PUPPETEER

The numbers are treatcherous because, yes 14 is in the lower spectrum but like, we are already in No Skip territory. I didn't think I would like Puppeteer but the intro with Ody and Eurylochus is simply perfection. The feels, the almost love confession that was cut off, the wordplay is just INSANE, love her

13 - THE UNDERWORLD

What do I need to say about Underworld that wasn't already said in every corner of this website? Putting your IRL mom to play Anticlea is VILE, 10/10 fuck you jorge

12 - KEEP YOUR FRIENDS CLOSE

She was gagging me since tiktok. Perfection. Bonus points for being Penelope and Telemachus first appearances in the show (SHOW ME THE TWINK, JORGE). Also, "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOODYSSEUS OF ITHACAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

11 - MY GOODBYE

I talked shit about athena's sons in warrior of the mind and I was about to put this in 16th place wtf, it didn't feel right so i did a re-listen and holy shit this song is phenomenal, omg THE JUST A MAN LINE? CINEMA

10 - OPEN ARMS

Steven Dookie, the man that you are. This song is so fucking good, holy shit. It's cute, and fun, It's everything. It encapsulates why the first quarter of a musical is always my favorite, because of all the setups, the motifs, the weapons it creates to shred our hearts

09 - REMEMBER THEM

She is perfection, she is serving pauleira, she is giving me everything I want. By far the best outro in the show, argue with your mothers.

08 - FULL SPEED AHEAD

The harmonies, the character intros, the simplicity, the naïveté, the HARMONIES, YES, AGAIN THE HARMONIES. Troy saga best saga, and if you disagree you can eat my ass

07 - DONE FOR

This song is what truly hooked into epic so Just a Man could reel me in. The drama, the irony, the implicit horniness, the fact that i found out they were dating IRL around the time this was announced, truly divine (ha)

06 - NO LONGER YOU

Wig? Snatched. This was my favorite song for a while, I even auditioned for it lmao. Deffo my favorite one to sing, still. Mason DEVOURED this track, and the prophecy? Odysseus's scream? Setting up Monster, AKA one of the best things in this show? Gagged me, your honor.

05 - THE HORSE AND THE INFANT

We are reaching greatness here you guys. The duet with Zeus gives me chills every time. I just know this + Just a Man as INTROS (REALLY LIKE, THIS IS THE INTRO) are gonna make pussies throb and ppl cry in the theater

04 - WOULDN'T YOU LIKE

Hermes is my favorite character in the show, and this (and Dangerous) are my most anticipated songs EVER. The tiktok snippets really did it for me.

03 - MONSTER

I mean, come on. Do I even have to say anything? When he quoted Poseidon. The venting about all he lost, THE CONFIRMATION THAT HE DID, IN FACT, KILLED THE BABY. HE BECOMING THE MAN TIRESIAS SAW IN HIS PROPHECY. I MEAN, COME ON

02 - RUTHLESSNESS

Chills. Literal chills. When this song dropped I was INSUFFERABLE. Ask anyone close to me. She was on repeat for WEEKS. Steven Rodriguez's voice is so fucking insane, so fucking SEXY (I ain't afraid to say it bitch, that man can get it). But like, Poseidon as a character, Odysseus being an idiot, "Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves" like HOLY SHIT. And now, all i can think about is how Get in The Water will sound in his voice. Just thinking about it gives me chills. I just know he is going to devour it.

01 - JUST A MAN

Remarkable, showstopping, absolutely the best song ever made. The lyricism, the production, the poetry, vocal performance, I really don't have much to say because it's not needed. All of my favorite moments in this soundtrack, unreleased songs included, are moments in which this song is referenced.

The "Monster" chants in The Underworld and in Monster, "after all you're just a man" in My Goodbye, the entire song of "Monster" is he becoming the Monster he is asking about in this song, like, DO YOU GUYS UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH I LOVE THIS SONG? My life's dream is to go to broadway once to see this fucking song live, and i know it will be life changing. Just a Man is the most beautiful thing ever.

[respectthepetty]

So . . . Ji jumped in the middle of the fight and got hit by Achi and then got upset about it?! Call me Pear because I am just as confused as homegirl was.

Make it make sense, Mary! Pear called Ji because Achi was in a fight. Ji ran into the middle of the fight while Achi was swinging, got hit, and got upset. Ask girlie in the back for the recording because I need this replayed and zoomed in, so Ji can see HE IS THE PROBLEM!

I am 100% on Achi's side about everything. Even if Achi left in the middle of the night to Chicago without telling Ji, I can't blame him because I'd leave this Blue Boy too!

It's obvious Achi is in love with Ji. HE WEARS JI'S COLOR!

His entire room was blue!

They were even gonna raise a dog together which would have been the perfect time for Ji to tell Achi that he wasn't dating Pear pero nooooo, homie kept his mouth shut!

Achi keeps lightening up from his usual black, bringing Ji food in color-coded containers, and being an all-around good guy.

But Ji couldn't even tell Achi that he wasn't dating Pear yet demanded Achi always tell the truth! Achi was IN LOVE yet Ji was being a hypocrite.

Ki better not treat his Green Guy the same way his brother has treated Achi. He better apologize to my boy for snapping at him. RIGHT NOW!

And Ji better apologize to Achi too for being a jerk ALL THE TIME! Sleeping on the bed like that warrants at least three apologies!

Yet he is probably gonna eff up next week by avoiding Achi because of Achi's manager. Once again, I do not care if these two slept together, said they loved each other forever and ever, then Achi ghosted him in the past. With all the certainty in my body, I KNOW Ji messed up somewhere to make Achi leave.

Only two more episodes, yet I need Ji and Ki to spend a full episode in timeout thinking about their bad choices.

Oh, brother!

[misledmiseries]

I just learned about alice and girl i am actually upset

this game means the world to me for 13 years and i don’t say this lightly, or can say this about any other game.

i look at it and i can't see anything but inspiration, one of the earliest pieces of art i encountered in my life and left an impression, i visit the game yearly, and every time i only find that i appreciate it more.

and more so, this game was a strange comfort to me, as in comfort for the disturbed.

Alice has always been my homegirl, earliest favorite female character, i adored her, her soul crushing journey, her raw regret and horrors. to be vulnerable for a second, Alice's story broke me down and held me together.

that ending got me feeling victorious yet bittersweet and the uncertainty of Alice's fate always got me in chokehold.... i don't know, I'm so lost for words and the irony isn't lost on me.

for the last few years, i very casually checked the asylum developments and even though i didn't particularly like the angle they seemed to be going toward, i was still hopping for the project to see the light, the art was jaw dropping like always, but honestly i don't have even slightly enough information to develop an actual opinion on the story direction.

anyway I'm torn, i feel so strange like this's a bad distant dream, augh i guess i will *casually pushing ea into the train*

finally i will quote based Cheshire's ending monologue:" ah, Alice, we can't go home again. no surprise, really. Only very few find a way and most of them don't recognize it when they do. Delusions, too, die hard. Only the savage regards the endurance of pain as the measure of worth. Forgetting pain is convenient, Remembering it, agonizing. But recovering the truth is worth the suffering. And our wonderland, though damaged, is safe in memory...for now."

.

heh i actually feel like crying? now like god intended, i will go weep and wail and create my own vale of tears for another canceled media i sincerely loved for so long  ♥️❤️♥️❤️♥️❤️♥️

[cto10121]

R&J Clown Takes Round ♾ + Part 10

In which I got a truly deranged Instagram reel from the depths of the algorithm, ranting about how R&J are totes not a love story. Thus rampant clownage ensued. And so: Once more unto the breach, my good friends.

BFFs With Shakespeare

Clown OP knows this because they have drinks every Sunday with Shakespeare, Ben Jonson, John Fletcher, and all of dem cats down at the Dolphin. It’s a great hub. Clown OP is the one who has to hold Jonson back when Shakespeare starts roasting him.

And true, Will is always bemoaning about teen girls chasing after boys constantly—that’s why he wrote so many happy romantic comedies about teen girls doing just that and getting their heart’s desire. He just hated it that much.

Clown OP 2 is also good friends with Will, and heard this straight from his lips. It was a typical evening at the Dolphin in 1594 and Shakespeare was in a rant about Arthur Brooke’s narrative poem about R&J and how his canon sucks and that actually, R&J are truly in love and their end was truly tragic and he WILL PROVE IT. Only Clown OP 2 misheard “tragic” for “basic” and thought Shakespeare was casting shade about his own adaptation. Clown OP 1 also didn’t hear it, as they were too busy trying to prevent Ben Jonson from dueling Fletcher.

Romeo the Death Eater

Romeo forced Tybalt to seek him out and try to duel him, he forced Mercutio duel Tybalt, and of course he forced Juliet to take her life from beyond the grave. Everything is Romeo’s fault because it certainly isn’t Tybalt’s. They’ve stopped teaching cause and effect relationships in school, haven’t they?

Creepy Italian Groomer is back! I was starting to miss thee. It’s been awhile. How’s it been? Still intellectually bankrupt, I see. No, I will not lend thee money.

Let me help you out, OP. “Shall I hear more or shall I speak of this?” “Shall I move forward when my heart is here?” “I am too bold; ‘tis not to me she speaks.” Textual evidence for his ADHD, clearly.

Juliet tells some equivocating half-truths and suddenly she is a criminal mastermind. As for the lost puppy, I dare you to tell Juliet that to her face. Homegirl compares Romeo to a very different and sexy animal altogether.

Cool fanfic, bruh. Really liked your prostitute OC. That scene where she breaks up with Romeo in the afternoon was heartbreaking.

Both Sides!1!!1!1

A lot of word vomit here. But okay, OP. I’ll bite and take you seriously.

Is Shakespeare trying to make a point about the stupidity of both sides, the youths and the older generations? Is the satire truly equal on both sides?

Well, no. While there is no character that is truly without flaws (because this is Shakespeare, after all) the youths definitely get a way more sympathetic edge from the narrative in a way that their parents don’t. R&J are the beating and living heart of this play, dynamic and intricately developed, Mercutio is downright luminous with the right actor, Benvolio is just straight up too good for this world, and even Tybalt gets some baller lines and fiery speeches—he’s so much fun to play, and plus, his death actually has weight in the narrative.

The parents…not so much. While the Friar and even the Nurse have moments of adult wisdom, the Capulets are pure dysfunction. The Montague parents are much nicer but just simply…there. When the Capulets mourn Juliet, it’s written as a cacophony, almost garishly insincere in its repetition. I don’t think that’s an adequate parallel with R&J’s moments of despair. Even there the lovers are eloquent, even rhetorical: Of course I’m upset because of X and Y!!! There is rationale even if their emotions are too much. I think it’s clear which side got the most satire.

And that’s why Shakespeare wrote R&J falling in love with each other when they don’t even know each other’s names and already be at 110% in their love (Juliet: “If he be marrièd / My grave is like to be my wedding bed”). To illustrate this exact point.

The Quiet Part

Shh, OP! You’re not supposed to say the quiet part aloud. Number one rule of clownery and you broke it.

[justanotherpersonsuniverse]

..I didn’t watch Onichan- and yall didn’t tell me- I- hold on-

Can we talk about Lila’s homelife a lil bit?

Like I know this is her “hey remember me I’m terrible” episode salters feed off of like flies to a corpse but..

We as an audience know so little about Lila. We know she’s italian, her mom is- questionably- an ambassador at best or a busy woman most likely, and she’s a Liar. That’s it. We don’t know what she likes- we don’t know her actual opinions on things-

And that’s alright cause the truth lies in only the eye of the beholder I guess and why trust a liar’s word if they’re telling us? But as watchers, we get a bit of show not tell. Lila can’t talk to us, so we just watch.

The opening scene isn’t Marinette or Adrien or even Kagami-

But Lila in her home, getting ready for school. 

Homegirl gets like an actually modeled room and it’s wack as fuck but literally the most teenage looking room in this entire series. Also the way she interacts with it- no evil monologue- no dart board of Ladybug or Marinette’s face- it’s just her living.

And I watched this first bit of Oni Chan by chance, just today, cause I saw this in the thumbnail and I wanted to see her room. Nice Carmen Sandiego hat and mask motif. 

but then I hear Lila’s mom is on the phone?? In the form of a voice mail.

"Hi, darling. Your breakfast is on the table, your lunch is in a bag, and your dinner is in the fridge. I'll be home late tonight again, but I'll do my best to be there this weekend. Pinky promise. And just call me if you need anything. Love you to bits, my angel!"

Lila is completely alone until, as she said, rlly late. After dinner late. Perhaps even after Lila is asleep.

And Lila gets this voice mail as she’s Getting Ready for School so this mean’s her mom’s already out of the house before she wakes up.

Lila wakes up home alone, her breakfast is an apple, she goes through school, lunch, dinner, and there’s just the Chance she sees her mom at night.

Then something hit me after a few more replays.

her mom said "This" weekend

that isn't "every weekend"

or "this weekend, as always"

This weekend.

It’s an exception. This means, it doesn’t happen often. This means, Lila is left even more alone.

And when Nino catches up to her, after seeing her leave her house..

She is visibly upset.

And you know what she lies about when he asks what’s wrong?

“Is something wrong, Lila?” “Uh, no, I'm doing great! It's just that... my mom wants me to go with her to this fancy embassy function tonight, but I got way too much homework and I'm so behind after being away for the first term. I'm just gonna have to tell her no. She'll be so upset...”

A vainglorious lie yes?

But.

Do you get what the lie is?

It’s about Lila’s Mom.

Lila’s Mom, wanting her. Wanting to be with her. The idea Lila’s mom would be upset if she wasn’t with her daughter.

What a lie, to her, isn’t it?

[blessedboo]

Need [Pipe Down #2] | Oscar Diaz.

Oscar Diaz x Reader

Summary: You were supposed to get out of your post-breakup blues, but a certain someone clouded your mind all day. You decided to do something about it.

Requested: Yes (Thank you, my loves!)

Warnings: Cursing. Angst to fluff - fluff to smut (18+ Content) and then some more fluff.

Word Count: 4.6K

A/N: The reactions to Pipe Down were incredible. Y’all are so supportive, and fucking hilarious as well. This is my first time writing smut, so I apologize if it’s not that great; feedback is always appreciated. I hope you enjoy reading this sequel, it’s dedicated to all of you. Love ya!

You and Izzy were walking arm in arm back to her car, chatting, laughing. Times like these made you feel grateful to have her in your life, someone you could always count on to be there for you and lift your spirits. Honestly, you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself without your homegirl.

The laughter died down as you both sighed and continued walking in comfortable silence. You felt her eyes on you as she turned her head to face yours. She waited a few seconds before saying something, almost as if she was trying to read your thoughts.

“Alright, love. Be real with me now, are you sure you’re okay?”

You turned to face her and gave her a reassuring smile. “Of course, why?”

“You just seemed a little off back there. You’re usually downing mimosas with me by the minute, but instead you were staring off into space.” She paused for a second after saying that, abruptly stopping both of you in your tracks.

Her eyes widened as she side-eyed you, “Shiiit, you aren’t pregnant, are you?”

Your jaw dropped for a moment, shortly turning into a laugh as your head tipped back, shocked by her assumption.

“Girl, no. I do not have a baby in me. And if I did, trust me, you’d be the first one to know.”

“Well, my bad then,” she giggled.

After eventually getting in the car, Izzy thought it’d be nice to put the roof down, convertible style. Today’s light breeze and warm sun did you favors as your skin glowed and your hair flowed. You raised your arm up in the air, the brisk wind gently dancing around it as you jammed out to Brent Faiyaz, H.E.R and other R&B favorites.

You and Izzy sang simultaneously, screeching at the top of your lungs when it came to those high notes. It didn’t matter if it was good, it was a vibe.

Soon enough, the car began to approach your neighborhood. Izzy turned to you, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel.

“Wellll, where am I dropping you off to?”

”Where else? Home, babes,” you let out a small laugh and nudged her elbow for asking you that question.

“Mm, I know. But which one? Yours or your baby daddy’s?” She bit her lip and winked at you. “If you get what I mean ...”

Izzy knowingly wiggled her brows up and down, tongue in cheek. Your brows furrowed slightly as you shook your head at her, unsure of what she was implying.

It took you a good three seconds but Izzy knew you got the message when your eyes widened, rolling to the back of your head. She cheekily snickered at you as you did.

You gave her an unamused look and pinched the bridge of your nose, realizing she was referring to Oscar. And not just ‘Oscar,’ she referred to him as your “baby daddy”. Oh please, as if you’d ever let his fine ass him knock you up. 

Would I?

You knew she was only teasing, but what she said started getting to you. It made you overthink and you didn’t like it.  

“You know damn well he is not my baby daddy, nor will he ever be. We’re over, Iz - we have been for two weeks, you know that.”

She kissed her teeth and raised an eyebrow at you, dismissing your comment, or what she knew as your lies. She always saw right through you, you couldn’t fake anything with her even if you tried.

“Bitch,” she retorted with an annoyed inflection in her tone, “you can’t fool me. I put two and two together when I saw how you acted at brunch. No wonder, Spooky got you all in your feelings, and I’m sure it has something to do with whatever happened between you two this morning.”

“I-“ 

You were immediately cut off by her. Yeah, she definitely wasn’t done scolding you.

“You’re lucky I saved your ass from saying something stupid.”

You had a mini-flashback to the moment you and Oscar shared right before she picked you up. You remembered how vulnerable you got in his arms, ready to spill all the pain you’d been feeling. You didn’t notice you started to slouch, or the frown that appeared on your face just then. But Izzy did.

She looked away to gather her thoughts before turning back to you, lips pulled to one side as she gave you an empathetic look. She grabbed your hand and clasped her fingers over it to comfort you.

“You miss him, huh?”

You couldn’t lie to her or yourself anymore. You sighed, “I’m angry at him. I’m upset with him—“

“But ...” Izzy added.

“—But I do miss him.” You groaned as you tipped your head back into the seat. You really missed him, and that longing feeling to be close to Oscar again was eating you up inside.

Longing for him to eat me up instead.

“Told ya,” Izzy smirked triumphantly, you scowled back at her in return.

“Not now, dumb ass.”

She chuckled before continuing the drive to your block.

—

“Alright, we’re here.”

The rest of the drive was silent, so deep in your daydream that you completely shut yourself off from your surroundings.

You looked at the house she parked at, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Iz, you’re a good couple of houses away from mine. We aren’t even on the right side of the street, this is Osca-“

You blinked once.

Twice.

Thrice.

“Izzy.”

She was looking down to avoid eye contact, but still smiling ever so mischievously. 

“Okay, don’t be mad, but—“

“IZ-“

“—BUT! I really think you should talk to him. You clearly aren’t over him, he probably isn’t over you. Both of you should stop being so stubborn, keep pride out of this, and have yourselves some bomb ass makeup sex.”

You whipped your head towards her, eyes bulging at the last remark.

“What? No sex? That’s cool too, that’s cool too. Maybe that’s just me then.”

You tried your best to stay annoyed at her, but you couldn’t help it. Your lips pulled into a smile as you admired your best friend. You let out a small chuckle before undoing your seat belt.

“I hate you.”

She grinned, “I know, I love you too.”

Izzy pulled you into a hug before you opened the car door and got out. You walked around, but she called out from behind as soon as you approached the lawn.

“Hey, wait!”

You spun your head around to look at her, forehead wrinkled as a questioning gesture.

“Go get ‘em, tiger!” She exclaimed as she pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth, closed her fists, and did a back-and-forth pumping gesture with both arms at her sides to signal fucking.

Cheeks turning red, you palmed your face embarrassedly, “Oh God, please stop.”

Man, you really loved her.

You waved her off as she laughed, hurriedly making your way to Oscar’s front door before anyone saw that atrocity.

Here you were again for the second time today. Damn, he got you fucked up.

All that readiness you had a minute ago washed away, now being encompassed by anxiousness and self-doubt. Great, your favorite duo of terror.

Am I being too desperate?

This is a bad idea.

No, I love him. Just do it, coward.

At last, you raised your hand to the dreaded large plank of wood you stood in front of. “It’s now or never.”

One knock. Two knocks. And a third.

He’s fucking that blonde chick.

Abort mission.

Mayday! Mayda-

“Y/N ... Back so soon?” A shirtless Oscar leaned up against the doorframe, bright-eyed and flashing that sexy smirk.

In any other instance, you’d retort with a witty remark, fire back with some sass.

But this wasn’t any other instance.

You were hurting, and you were tired. You were tired of the lonely nights, tired of these mind games, tired of bottling it all up. Oscar took notice of your silence and the blank, but sad, expression on your face. He sensed something was wrong. He knew because he felt that way too. Regretting what he said, his features softened. His eyes drooped whilst muscles relaxed as he reached his arms out to you.

There were a million reasons to turn back around and run for the hills. Could you trust him not to break your heart again? Could you guarantee that everything will work out from that point on?

The truth is, you didn’t know.

But if there was anything you did know, it’s that if you ran now, you may never get this chance again.

You were hesitant, but you stepped forward and gently placed a hand on his upper arm; a silent invite for him to embrace you. The corner of his lips curved into a small, sad smile. Neither of you had to speak to be able to empathize with each other. You felt each other’s everything. 

Pain. Frustration. Happiness. And everything in between. 

That was the beauty of your relationship.

He lead you inside before wrapping his strong arms around you, pulling you into a tight, but tender, hug. The warmth of his bare body engulfed your entire being. Your hands followed suit as you moved them under his arms and clasped them onto each shoulder, your face tilted to fit like a puzzle piece in the crook of his tattooed neck.

You basked in each other’s silence as the comfort washed over you. It was dead-quiet in the house, and all you could hear were Oscar’s gentle breaths as he inhaled and exhaled on the tops of your cheeks. Along with the soft thumping of his heartbeat as he relaxed into you more and more as the moment went by.

As much as you appreciated the embrace, there were still probing thoughts that lingered in the back of your mind. You had questions and you needed answers.

“Oscar?”

“Hm?”

“Couch.”

“Okay.”

Removing yourselves from each other, you made your way into his living room. You sat side-by-side, not as close as a few seconds ago, but close enough to reach out for him just in case you needed to beat his ass.

You took a deep breath in before letting out a sigh that sounded like it was hidden in the depths of your body. 

“You told me you were too busy to be with me. That you needed space. That it wasn’t the best time to be in a relationship, and that we weren’t right for each other anyway. Too different.”

“I know, I-“

“But earlier you tell me you miss me. A lot, might I add. How do you think that makes me feel? That’s frustrating and confusing as fuck, Oscar!”

“Y/N, I know. I fucked up. I fucked up big time. I knew I fucked up on that first night I spent without you. I was wrong, so goddamn wrong, and I hated myself for it.”

“So then why say it? Why, Oscar? We were doing so well, and then you drop the breakup bomb out of nowhere. And if you regretted it so much, why not talk to me the day after instead of ignoring me?”

“Because—“ He paused as he looked away. His open, expressive hands closing into a fist as he rubbed his thumb against the side of his index finger. This was a habit of his whenever he was anxious, annoyed, or anything of the sort. His nostrils flared as his eyebrows knitted together, lips curving downwards into a frown. You watched his actions intently, the battle he had with himself, his internal conflict, playing out in front of your eyes.

He sighed, “because I knew you’d be better off without me - in more ways than one. I’m a liability, nena. I bring more harm than good, to you and to Cesar.”

“—And with all that shit that went down with Cuchillos, I didn’t want you standing in the middle of the crossfire. I couldn’t risk anything happening to you, so I pushed you away. So yes, I did need my space to handle my shit without you, and yes, I was too busy … too busy to give you the attention we both needed. But I never stopped loving you, I just wanted to protect you.”

Oscar’s breathing was heavy as he closed his eyes, lids tucking in tightly after the release of this built-up resentment.

My baby was protecting me, and he was hurting in the process.

Lightning struck you at the center of your heart and made it shatter into a million broken fragments. Or at least that’s what it felt like. You ached for him. You always did knowing the life he was living, but now more than ever. Your eyes welled up with tears, your head dropping down.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I know it doesn’t fix what I did, but I pro-“

You cut him off by clasping one hand over his nape, and another on the side of his face as you pulled him into a soft, sweet kiss. You didn’t do it out of pity. You didn’t do it to shut him up. You did it to reassure him, to calm his mind, to ease his blessed heart.

Prior to the two weeks of isolation, you were Oscar’s peace, and he yours. In a time he needed it most, he lost his peace, his only form of solace.

To say you felt bad was an understatement.

Your plump lips danced against his own. It was a tango of love and war. Longing, yet laced in suffering. The kiss was slow and sensual as the two lovers rekindled the flame that never truly died out. Beneath all that tenderness, both of your lips still fought for dominance. 

To claim the upper hand, he grabbed onto your waist and propped you onto his lap. With the close proximity of your rhythmically moving bodies, you inhaled deeply as the aroma of beer, cologne and cigarettes tickled your nose. The smell was intoxicating, pure bliss, and only he could pull it off. 

There were other things only he could pull off, like my clothes perhaps.

You could sense Oscar’s patience quickly dissipating with each taste of your soft, moist kisses. He couldn’t get enough of them, and two weeks away from them were two weeks too long. He lolled helplessly with his eyes clenched shut, in a trance of tongue. 

As the kiss got more heated, a sweet moan erupted from your throat. You were soaking up every ounce of loving he was giving you, hypnotized by the way he held you, felt you, caressed you. Oscar smiled against your lips as a result, bringing his hand up to the back of your head as his fingers tangled and intertwined with your locks to deepen his motions. 

You started to feel overwhelmed—in the best way possible—but he was, quite literally, taking your breath away. You unlatched your lips from his, both of you gasping for air simultaneously. You stared into each other’s eyes that glistened with lust and adoration. From the way you two were moving, you would’ve thought you had been away from each other for months. But that only seemed to prove the immense need and want for one another.

You stared at his now swollen, red, wet lips and giggled. He joined, chuckling as he saw your own, clearly enthusiastic at what he’d done to you. As he did, he brought a thumb up to wipe over your tear-stained cheeks.

“So ... does that mean I’m forgiven?” He asked sporting a cheeky, lopsided grin.

You licked your lips as you sat up on your knees, his thigh in between your legs whilst towering over him. Mindlessly, he ran his hands up your waist and down your hips, groping your thighs here and there ever so slightly.

“Hm,” you bit your fingernail pensively. Your eyes darkened with mischief as you thought of other ways he’d be able to make it up to you. You glared at him, biting your lip, “how badly do you miss me, baby?”

He smirked at your sudden burst of sexual prowess. “Badly, mamí.”

“Mm, what are you willing to do?”

“Anything.”

“Prove it. Prove that you missed me.” You coaxed, lust and desire laced your soft spoken voice.

And that was all he needed for him to unzip your shorts at a tantalizing pace, never breaking eye contact with you as he did. Maybe you deserved a little bit of teasing for the petty ‘mission’ you pulled earlier. You shimmied out of them impatiently, and he laughed at your attempt to hurry.

“What are you in a rush for, mamas? I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you,” he reassured you as he cupped your face before placing a small, chaste kiss on your lips.

You sighed, nodding your head. Your body relaxed as you lowered yourself onto his lap again.

“You’re right. Do your thing, my love.”

He pecked your cheek, your nose, the corner of your mouth and peppered light kisses along your jawline. You loved how romantic he was before devouring you or fucking you senseless - such a deliciously dynamic man.

He lifted your chin up to tilt your head back, giving him more access to the soft skin of your neck. Needless to say, you weren’t expecting his lips to brush up against the sensitive area below your ear as he licked you with a long, single swipe of his tongue.

Goodbye, Mr. Romantic and hello, Daddy.

He nipped and sucked, and nipped and sucked. Hot, open-mouthed kisses trailing all around your neck and down to your collarbone as one hand was wrapped gently, yet firmly, around your throat, right under your chin to hold it up. Your breaths were shaky, light moans rolled off your lips naturally, and a very apparent pool formed in your black lace panties.

Oscar unwrapped the knot of your top, letting the sleeves fall down your arms. His fingers slid on your smooth skin as he took it off completely.

“Damn, baby,” he whispered as he wishfully gazed at your breasts, passion shadowing over him. You placed your hands on his chest, nails lightly scratching the bare skin as you dragged them down. His lips parted in response, his excited heartbeats could be felt under your fingertips. From the heavy breathing to the glossy beads of sweat that glistened on his tanned skin, the atmosphere of the room got dense - air heavy, sexual tension thick. 

With an expert flick of his fingers, your bra was on the floor in a matter of seconds. Oscar’s big hands were on your waist and back, ensuring there was no way to escape. Not that you wanted to be anywhere else anyway. 

He wasted no time latching onto your right nipple, cupping your plump assets as he groped and squeezed teasingly. His tongue danced fluently over the swell of your breast, evoking a porn-worthy moan that reverberated against the four walls of the small room. The wet sensation combined with the tantalizingly sensual circular motions were heavenly. 

“Oh God,” you whimpered breathlessly. Though, it would be best if you kept God out of your sexual endeavours. 

Oscar didn’t forget about your left nipple as he alternated between pinching, tugging and rolling it in between his index and thumb. He brought his hand to his mouth, licking his two digits and then continuing his actions.

How considerate of him, you thought. He wanted to give both of your eager breasts the same type of attention, cute. 

As you ground your hips against his thigh, subtly getting off from the pressure hitting your core, he felt the moistness that started to coat the thin fabric and your inner thighs. Your nipple left the warmth of his mouth and was now encompassed by the cool air. You shivered at the new sensation, instantly missing the feel of his lips as you pouted. 

Smirking, he looked down, catching you in the act of your mini joyride. 

“Naughty.”

You giggled, “Maybe a little.”

He hummed amusingly before gently pushing your chest backwards so that you could lay down flat on the couch. He crawled to hover over you, letting out a groan as he bit his lip and took in your current state. The woman he cherished was sprawled half-naked on the couch, swollen breasts rising up and down, looking up at him with big love-hazed eyes and plump pouty lips as you waited for him to please you. 

In his eyes, it was the most angelic sight. You loved the way he looked at you as if you were the center of his universe. You smiled at him, following with a wink.

His face inched closer to yours as he gave you a sweet kiss before planting many of them on a trail from your neck, to the valley in between your breasts, and finally to the awaited destination. 

He looked up at you through his gorgeous, long lashes. He kept that hungry glare pointed on you as he hooked his fingers into your waistband, dragging them down swiftly. Your stomach fluttered in anticipation. If it was even possible, your arousal got more wet at the thought of his mouth on your pussy. You wanted him so bad, it was painful. 

“Please,” you pleaded. “I need you.”

That breathy whimper set him off. He didn't bother teasing the surrounding area as usual. He was starving, and he was gon’ feast like his life depended on it. 

As he lowered himself, the cold metal of his cross grazed your lips. You jumped at the stinging chill, a sensation that amplified tenfold due to the already aching area.

He ran two fingers up and down your soaking slit, spreading the two lips, then rubbing them closer together, and repeating. As his fingers occasionally brushed along your swollen clit, your thighs would involuntarily clench at the sensitivity. He followed your body’s requests by rubbing the bud in gentle circles, applying just enough pressure to stimulate you. He would press down on it every now and then, which would really get you going. 

At this point, you were already a whimpering mess for him and he loved it. 

“You want more, nena?” 

Unable to comprehend any words, you simply nodded. Now tugging and rolling at your throbbing bundle of nerves, “No no, I want you to tell me. Let me hear that voice.”

“Yes,” you whispered, “… M-more,” was all you managed to get out in a broken moan. 

Oscar gripped your thighs as he dropped his head down to your core. You were immediately met with a long lick that flattened against your entrance, from bottom to top.  You gasped at the moist feeling of his velvet tongue combined with the warm breaths that lingered on your skin. 

He spread your legs wider and pushed your thighs back, allowing more access for him to hit all the right spots. His lips smothered your pussy with sloppy, deep kisses.

He was french-kissing the fuck out of your core, and your endless cries only encouraged him to keep going. 

His tongue curled up to flick your clit rapidly before easing your pleasure with soft circular motions. Not wanting to lose his rhythm, he closed in on your pearl, sucking on it tenderly as his fingers wandered in between your folds.

“Oh Daddy… Fuck yeah,” you hissed. 

“Mm, you like that?” He groaned.

“Yes! Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” were only some of the obscenities that rolled off your tongue. 

Well, his tongue was doing most of the rolling. 

Your pussy was throbbing, aching for release. Breathless, you propped yourself up on one arm to get a glimpse of the action. Your fluids flowed out of you - it was ‘The Y/N River’ down there. They coated your walls, Oscar’s beard and definitely drenched the couch material under you. 

But he didn’t mind one bit. In fact, it drove him wild. He lapped up your juices in quick, yet deliberate, movements of his tongue. 

Feeling him do it was pleasurable enough, but watching his determination play out on your sex was a whole new level of sexy, and eventually brought you closer to release. Your back arched, your hips bucked and you were a moaning disaster. 

“Fuck! Fuuuck! Baby … I- … Ah, shit! … I’m g-gonna come. Just like that, yes. Yes!”

Your orgasm was bubbling at the pit of your stomach. You were so close.

“Fuck. Come. Come for me, mamí.”

His mouth attacked your pussy greedily, fingers doing quick work of rubbing your folds in ‘figure eights’. He used two of his digits to spread your folds as he tongue-fucked you. One of your hands held onto the back of his scalp, while the nails of the other dug into his broad shoulder so deeply you were scared to puncture skin.

Him egging you on and praising you nonstop was the last straw. He grumbled against your soaked core as your thighs clenched together. His name left your lips in a cry, over and over. 

Like a chant, or more so a prayer. 

You shook and shuddered uncontrollably during your throes of passion, your back landing onto the couch from the euphoric exhaustion. Your head tipped back in ecstasy as he cupped your core gently, hushing you into a state of ease.

Your breaths became less heavy as seconds passed by. You sighed before slightly turning your head upwards, only to catch your man staring at you intently. A big ol’ cheesy grin plastered on his gorgeous face.

“Beautiful,” he hummed. 

You shook your head, laughing at his cuteness. 

When your legs somewhat regained their strength, you sat up and clung onto his torso. The both of you laid back upright on the couch. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder to bring you closer. Placing a hand on his chest, the beats of his heart drummed for you. 

You smiled, and as if you communicated telepathically, you both looked at each other like lovestruck puppies. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Oscar.”

“Pase lo que pase?”

“Pase lo que pase.”  

You cupped his cheek as your two lips connected. A sweet kiss to seal the deal.

“So what are we going to do about this?” He asked, gesturing towards the obvious tent in his pants. You rolled your eyes, not being able to resist a small laugh. “You always have to ruin the mood, hm?”

“What? I’ve got needs too, Y/N.”

“Nuh-uh, I’m not letting you get off that easy. You’ve gotta work for it.” If looks could kill; he death-stared you down as his brows knitted together. “Eating you out ain’t enough?”

“Oh baby, no. That makes up for at least a week's worth. Cook me breakfast tomorrow, and you’ll be on the right path.”

He squinted at you unamusedly, along with slightly flared nostrils and lips pulled a straight line. “Seriously?”

“Very serious,” you raised your brow at him, sporting a cheeky smirk. 

He groaned while running a palm over his face, an eye roll on display right after. “Fine. So spoilt.”

“Keep that attitude up, boy. I’ll have you sleeping on the couch too.”

He scoffed as his forehead wrinkled in disbelief. He bit down on his bottom lip as he shook his head at you. It wasn’t long before he was towering over you, grabbing you by the waist and lifting you over his shoulder - ass out, facing skyward.

You gasped before squealing as you smacked your hands against his back. 

“What are you doing?! Let me down!”

“Nah. I make you come, and all of a sudden you’re bossing me around in my own house,” he retorted while sending a nice slap against your ass. “Must be out yo’ damn mind.”

Your bickering continued all the way into the bedroom. It was an evening of love and laughter, and there was nowhere else you’d rather be. 

____________________________________________

Spanish translations - [Correct me if I’m wrong]

Pase lo que pase - No matter what / Whatever happens

[shahidiwrites]

CONFETTI RANKING NO ONE ASKED FOR <3 But firstly can I just say their team literally said so what girl group era are yall taking inspo from? And little mix literally just said yes <3 UISDJOKOISADJ THE I N F L U E N C E S ON THIS ALBUM AHHHHHHHH i think it also sucks that c**** definitely took a toll on the album and i honestly think it was supposed to be released sooner BUT nevertheless it’s here now and i was sO PLEASED AND IM SO PROUD OF THESE GIRLS living their past life having all the fun with this album so let us go!!

1. Confetti. A powerful feel good song. Like this is THE Bad bitch anthem, like I can’t wait to be driving at night with my girlies blasting this. IT’S SO FUCKING GOOD. I love when the instrumental strips away on jade’s verse and it’s just the snaps BEAUTIFUL. Some of the melodies in here were definitely a shout out to girl groups like cherish and destiny’s child and holy fuck it WORKED. T H A T BRIDGE. LIKE. UGH. Vocally it’s a lot more stripped back than the rest of the album, and yet it’s still my favorite?? I think that speaks so much to Little Mix’s musicality. They don’t need insane vocals (even though they DEFINITELY HAVE THEM) to make a good song, like they know what works and they prove it every single time.

2. Sweet Melody. This song is so fucking clever. I know everyone has already talked about the way the instrumental literally follows the words, but IT’S SO CLEVER I’M MENTIONING IT AGAIN. Jade’s verse will forever be my favorite. She really set up the story with her verse. I love how the first part of the chorus is literally a sweet melody before it goes into the edgier chorus UGH SO GOOD. Not to mention this video gave us the first choreo heavy music video since fucking Salute ad that is a blessing in and of itself.

3. Happiness. “Remember I, I was mine. Before I was yours.” Honestly what else do you need? That line was so fucking iconic. The melody is so fucking beautiful, the nod to past girl groups was very strong in this one. It’s a different sound for them but at the same time extremely them??? I love the lyrical content SO MUCH. it’s such a feel good powerful song. The bridge of perrie belting and then the beautiful quick breakdown before they go back into the chorus ugh so fucking good. 

4. If You Want My Love. This song punched me in the face the second it started with Jade and didn’t stop until the fucking end. This was SUCH a spot on nod to past girl groups and they fucking nailed it. The chorus gives me CHILLS every time. It literally DEMANDS your attention in the same way the lyrical content is demanding to be treated right. The bridge had me meltING. PERRIES BUILD UP BELT?? Reminded me of About the boy which iconic we love growth. The melody is so fucking good AND THE ACAPELLA AT THE END??? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING??? so damn good. Everyone say thank you little mix.

5. Rendezvous. Honestly this top five is literally nothing but non-skippable B O P S. The fucking sway sample is ICONIC. It’s giving such motivate vibes and we all know how much of a banger that one is. Trying to imagine the choreo to this song is physically paining me and i’m so fucking pumped to see IT. I love how they have been consistently taking ownership of their bodies and flipping the gender expectations around. “i ain’t trying to fall in love with you” JUST ICONIC. Also reminds me of bloodline by ariana grande and also FUCKING ICONIC.

6. My Love Won’t Let You Down. This song needs to be longer. It’s so fucking beautiful. The lyrical content had me crying by the first line. It reminded me a lot of don’t worry by the 1975 but a lot more personal, it’s a very pointed song so it hits so differently than the 1975 one does for me. But holy shit it’s so beautiful, they have all grown vocally so much. “We can sit at the edge of your bed, tell me all of the fears in your head, and i’ll sing you your favorite song” This REALLY got to me bc idk it just felt like they were speaking to their fans i that moment and I know that alone can mean so much to so many people. It really did for me.

7. A Mess (Happy 4 U). I was not expecting them to start so deep, i literally felt like i was being let in on a secret it was so cute. And then the slip into that head voice, it was so airy and so pretty. And the drums in the background were very reminiscent of nothing feels like you which was a GREAT trip down memory lane for me. I also just love the message behind the song and the lyrical content is cute. AND THE FUCKING D R O P. U G H. THE FACT THAT THIS SONG ISNT HIGHER SHOULD SPEAK VOLUMES AS TO HOW GOOD I THINK THE OTHER SONGS ARE.

8. Holiday. WHY DOES THE FANDOM HATE THIS SONG SO MUCH??? IT’S SO GOOD. THE PRE-CHORUS ALONE !!!! EYE!!! It’s really upsetting to me and my homegirls why Holiday gets so much slander. The music video..... anyway the S O N G. It’s so good. So fun. A tune.

9. Nothing But My Feelings. Idk what this trend is of singing complete FILTH to the cutest little melodies but i’m here for it. This song took me by surprise tbh but i loved every second of it??? ESPECIALLY, the cute little adverbs in the background holy shit. They’re so much fun. And little mix + trap influenced is probably my new favorite thing so i need them to continue doing trap influence for my own sanity.

10. Not A Pop Song. I’m glad the girlies get to sing their truth at LAST. I also love the melody in this song and the “not a pop song” harmonies in the background near the end. I do think the verses are too short but i love leigh’s prechorus so much i’ll let the verses be shorter so i can get to her sooner. Also perrie kILLED that bridge are we surprised? no not at all.

11. Break Up Song. idc man this songs still slaps lmao. IT’S CUTE. But i’ve heard it enough it can’t compete with the new bbies on the album, but that intro gets me hype every time. And I still have fun dancing to it months later, but i’ve had it so long it’s been celebrated enough.

12. Breathe. I just feel like the verses were so much prettier than the chorus, like the lyrical content is so beautiful. Maybe it’s the instrumental??? But i think it would have been so much prettier had the chorus not been so intentionally choppy. The verses alone tho almost saved this song for me and made me put it higher but there’s just so many better songs on the album so it is here.

13. Gloves up.... is this controversial? There’s just a real disconnect between??? everything??? it sounds like three different songs tbh?? I love the lyrical content and the breakdown in the pre-chrous and jesy’s pause before perrie’s power vocals come in, but the instrumental is just kind of all over the place to me. idk maybe subconsciously i was comparing it to salute because that’s the writer they wrote it with but idk just not for meeee

[lihikainanea]

The bodyguard one has me thinking. What about a deranged fan scaring Tiger?

Guuuuuuuuh this makes me sad. I wrote a few days ago how, at the very beginning of their friendship, tiger was so leery about him because of the whole fame thing and I very much HC that sometimes she kind of...forgets that he’s famous. Particularly if he’s been home with her for awhile, and then maybe it’s the dead of winter and he carts her somewhere with him for a few days because he has to be in LA or something and she is in dire need of some sunshine. But then--then, she remembers that there’s this whole other side of him that she doesn’t even associate with HIM. And they’re out for brunch somewhere, and she’s keenly aware of photos being taken like...everywhere. And he doesn’t have to worry so much about paparazzi--those are always called by his agent when he needs some added press and he makes sure tiger is nowhere near him when a pap walk goes down. But the actual fans--the bad ones, the ones who leer or follow him or take photos that he doesn’t know about, those ones are hard.

Tiger can’t much blame the ones who come right up to him and ask for a photo, because even though it’s intrusive and really annoying sometimes, at least they’re not being creepy about it. And she’s gotten pretty good, actually, at slithering away while the fan is staring up at Bill all HEART-EYES. The fan will probably ask him who’s the girl he’s with, and Bill will just casually look around, smile, and just say “What girl?”. Sometimes it even takes him awhile to find tiger after and he usually has to text her because homegirl is halfway around the block already.

But if one started snapping photos of her, when Bill wasn’t around? Started lighting up her instagram or whatever? Eeeeeeesh. I think she’d be terrified, because what a horrible invasion of privacy.* She’d likely pull away too, much to Bill’s confusion, especially if the fan was really nuts. Maybe she wouldn’t tell him why, because she didn’t want him to worry but also didn’t want him to feel like this was his fault--it’s such a sore point for him, his fame and the impact it sometimes has on those he cares about.

I think once she pulled away enough, and once he racked his brain trying to figure out what the fuck he did that made her so distant--I think he finally corners her, confronts her. Maybe he climbs through her kitchen window again because she won’t let him in--but when she sees how upset he is, how much he really thinks he did something wrong, how he pleads with her to just tell him so he can try and fix it--she cracks, and tells him everything. Tells him how terrified she is, but also tells him how she avoided him because she didn't want him to think this was his fault, to beat himself up over it. Bill loses his mind once he knows the truth, but he also doesn’t necessarily know how to fix it himself and he needs to get his publicist involved--one who is far more PR savvy than he is. Maybe it goes as far as a restraining order against the fan, if anything just so tiger starts to feel a little more safe. It’s pretty easy to find out someone’s identity on social media so maybe he puts his people on it, and a warning is sent to the fan to lay off. Maybe there are a few planted comments on all social media accounts where a lot of drama goes down--comments like how oh that’s his cousin, and oh shit be careful guys he’s getting super pissed that his privacy is being invaded. Celebrities can and do disappear when they want to--I mean, not if you’re of the calibre of like, Taylor Swift--but someone of Bill’s calibre is only seen when he wants to be, so maybe he disappears for awhile to lay low and let a lot of the attention dissipate. His main focus is just on maintaining tiger’s privacy, which she also cherishes, but thankfully the fans all seem to calm down when numerous “insiders” confirm she’s a family member.

*As a disclaimer I’m kind of split on this though, because social media can be a scary thing but at the same time, the user tends to be in complete control--something that famous people would often like us to forget. So all of this woe-is-me, stop leaving hateful comments, don’t invade my privacy, blah blah blah just kind of makes me roll my eyes because there’s such an easy solution: make that shit private, delete all of it, or disable comments. And yes of course I’m not excusing internet hate because it’s a horrible thing, and of course everybody has the right to have social media or whatever--but if you’re famous, or famous by association, and you choose to have a public profile and you choose to tease things or flirt that line...then man, that’s on you. You can’t make something so public and then complain that you want it all to remain private.

[carruechedaily]

Why should Kae be afraid if what she’s saying is the truth tho 🤷🏽‍♀️ She said exactly what I’ve been thinking. People who are posting selfies and videos with their regular captions acting like it’s just normal days are WEIRDOS and it’s upsetting me and my homegirls because we feel like damn, if you can’t read the room then you gotta go!

Especially influencers and people with a lot of followers like how out of touch can you be 

[kitten1618x]

GoT Afterthoughts ep. 08x01 ‘Winterfell’(Part 2)

Okay, well now that I’ve gotten some sleep, let us continue, shall we?

~

So we left off with the Great Hall sass-fest between Dany and Sansa, who clearly have gotten off on the wrong foot. Not gonna lie, I’m enjoying this jealous, very snappy side of Sansa. Remember when I told you all last season that it would take the threat of Dany encroaching upon what Sansa perceived as hers — her home, her closeness with Jon and her place by his side — for us to start seeing her feelings begin to emerge? Well my friends, I believe its begun, and it’s only going to get worse as the season progresses. Sophie did say that Sansa’s fight this season was a more passionate one...

~

As for Dany’s reply? I’m sure that I don’t have to tell y’all how highly inappropriate it was. Not that i begrudge homegirl a saucy clapback, but that’s probably not the best thing to tell an entire room full of people who don’t particularly trust you yet, and know how dangerous and unpredictable your dragons are. And let’s not forget that the dragons actually have eaten people before, so it’s really nothing to joke and/or scoff about. For me, it harkens on Jorah’s comments in the season 7 finale regarding why the Dragon Pit was constructed...

~

“Dragons don’t understand the difference between what’s there’s and what isn’t. Land, livestock, children...”

~

So for Dany to make such a flippant statement just to get a one-up on Sansa isn’t a very bright move, imo.

~

We move out into the courtyard where Gendry has taken charge of the task of unloading the stock of Dragonglass. Tyrion watches him from the battlements, and spies Sansa and Lord Royce. Their reunion was always going to be awkward due to the circumstances they parted on, but I suppose Tyrion feels like there’s no time like the present to get it out of the way, and approaches them. Bless Lord Royce for watching out for Lady Stark. ❤️ He leaves only when she indicates that it’s alright.

~

They exchange some terse pleasantries, and Tyrion learns rather quickly that Sansa is no longer the meek young girl he once knew. While she remains polite, she doesn’t watch her tone nor shy away from saying exactly what’s on her mind. This is her home and he’s on her turf now.

~

They share a few barbs about the purple wedding and Sansa apologizes for leaving so abruptly. It’s really just a formality, and Tyrion knows it, judging by his reply. Is he resentful that she left him holding the bag? I’m not rightly sure, to be honest, and she doesn’t clarify on the circumstances she left under, either. He wasn’t back in season 4, but people do change, along with their perspectives.

~

“Many have underestimated you, most of them are dead now.”

~

Well if that isn’t some kind of ominous foreshadowing shit, I don’t know what is? It’s also the truth, so Team Dracarys beware!

~

Tyrion attempts to quell the fear he’s certain she must have about the Lannister army coming to Winterfell, and Sansa calls him out for trusting Cersei. He tries to explain that he believes this time is different because Cersei has something to live for now. I know everyone thinks this is a nod to the possibility of Cersei being pregnant — but what if it’s something else? What if it’s her revenge that’s keeping Cersei going? It has in the past... I mean, this is Cersei we’re talking about, and at this point I’m just throwing shit at the wall to see what sticks. lol

~

In any event, Sansa gives a subtle shake of her head and leaves him with some striking words that are sure to cut Tyrion deep in his pride (beings that he ‘drinks and he knows things’ and puts a lot of stock in his own perceived cleverness): “I used to think you were the most cleverest man alive.” Ouch.

~

My girl is really out here snatching these wigs left and right!

~

Sansa walks off leaving Tyrion to ice that sick burn... perhaps he can cool it with that frigid stare Bran is giving him from the courtyard below? Methinks something is amiss, and methinks Bran is gonna be pulling the receipts soon. Either way, it’s hard not to be a little freaked out by Bran, and Tyrion certainly looks the part here.

~

We move to the Godswood where Jon stands alone before the heart tree. He looks upset. I mean, he is Broody McBroodster and all, but what’s got my precious snowflake son so pensive? He did manage to secure ‘the greatest army the world has ever seen and two large dragons’ after all, and (supposedly) spent the last month ‘balls deep’ in his auntie D, so what could be troubling him? How long do you guys have? lol AND WHERE THE FUCK IS GHOST?

~

Arya sneaks up on him, telling him he used to be taller, and my heart just grew three times its size. 💗 They lunge into a hug reminiscent of the first season when they parted ways as young, naive Starklings, and dear lord, either I’m the grinch who stole Christmas, or I better call a cardiologist!! Jon even squeezes his eyes shut and looks like he’s fighting back tears! Gahhhhhhhh!!!!!

~

Of course Jon sees that Arya still has Needle. He asks if she’s used it yet, and she... omits the truth. For whatever reason, Arya isn’t ready to share this part of herself with Jon yet, and it makes my heart hurt so much for her loss of innocence. AND THESE MOTHERFUCKERS BETTER LEAVE MY REMAINING STARKLINGS ALONE IS2G!!

~

Jon shows off Longclaw, and jfc, these two dorks look so cute with their matching Ned Stark hairdos and their dramatic-ass eyebrows, here beneath the heart tree in Winterfell, and ahhhhhhhh! Okay, okay, I’m done gushing... for now.

~

Anyway, shits about to get a little weird here... Jon gestures with his hand then bends down, placing that hand on Arya’s shoulder and pulls her in as if he’s about to share a secret and asks where she was before, ‘cos he coulda used her help earlier with Sansa. I say weird because that’s the vibe I got, especially when Arya physically turns her head to look at his hand when he places it there, like she’s onto him or something. She even knows exactly what he’s referring to when she states very matter-of-factly, “she doesn’t like your Queen, does she?”

~

It’s all very condescending (and cut me some slack, because I’m not even sure that’s the right word here) — but his mannerisms, the way he sort of mocks Sansa about thinking she’s smarter than everyone, then seems taken aback when Arya defends her—when Jon, himself, knows damn well that Sansa is quite smart, and has even said so.

~

I was ready to climb into my tv and box Jonathan’s ears until it dawned on me just how isolated he must feel right now. The man has literally given up everything for what he holds most dear: his family and the North, only to be met with disappointment from those he cares the most about. And yes, especially Sansa, whom he constantly seeks validation from. His brooding in the Godswood makes a bit more sense now, as does his need to get his old confidant ‘sibling’ on his ‘side’—however immature it may be.

~

I could be wrong, of course, but my opinion only solidifies when Arya tells him that Sansa is only defending her family, and Jon suddenly drops the act and replies softly, “I’m her family, too.”

~

With a small smile, she pulls her needy validation-seeking big bro back in for another hug and tells him, “Don’t forget that,” as the camera pans back on Jon’s face and we see the emotional impact her words have on him as he squeezes his eyes shut.

~

We cut to Kings Landing where Cersei watches the arrival of Euron’s Fleet. Qyburn brings her the news that the AotD have broken through the wall, as to which she replies with an emotionless, “Good,” before we cut to Euron sharing words with the commander of the Golden Company.

~

He goes below deck to taunt Yara a bit — ‘blah blah blah, and balls and first I’m gonna fuck the queen.’ And I do love Euron, and I don’t know why, but he talks way too fucken much and doesn’t really say much of anything.

~

Cersei receives them in the throne room and is very disappointed that the Golden Company didn’t bring the elephants she was expecting. She dismisses them, but Euron has other ideas (as he expressed to his niece earlier on the ship). Cersei basically tells him to piss off with an excellent quote if I may say:

~

“If you want a whore, buy one. If you want a queen, earn her.”

~

But she’s not the only one prone to manipulating situations, and I get the feeling she knows that Euron’s loyalties are sketchy at best — and so we are given the impression that she relents, when she turns back, and Euron makes it past the Mountain unscathed.

~

Now we’re in Bronn’s room—whom I guess has taken up residence within the Red Keep? He’s about to get his 4-way on, but the girls keep chatting on about the Lannister soldiers that were maimed by Drogon in the field of fire 2.0 — specifically Eddie, a ginger boy who’s eyelids were burned right off. I assume this was one of the young boys Arya met on her way to kill the queen before she changed her mind? Probably Ed Sheeren.

~

~

Arya is not going to be happy about this.

~

Qyburn interrupts this tepid display of GoT sex (still hotter than floppy chicken sex) with a special request from the queen. He’s got the crossbow Tyrion used to kill Tywin, and a mission for Bronn. Will he carry it out? Change sides? Is this possibly how the kidnap!plot unfolds (for those of you who have considered it)? Only time will tell.

~

And speaking of such — I’m only 30 minutes into the episode and this has gotten looooooong again. Have I always been this long-winded in my recaps?

~

I’m gonna go ahead and publish this since it’s already a day late. Maybe I’ll have the whole recap finished before the new episode airs?! KIDDING! But seriously, I’m sorry guys... battling illness myself with sick kids and I’m trying here, I swear!!

[iinejs]

1) OK person from before. Hey you may be one of my favs persons that I just started following. Not only do you do the Sizzy life but also the Shirbert life, the cloak and dagger life and the sense8 minus rajan life. You a cool human. But anyways... main point this final ep was kind of underwhelming. But I love Mun so there's that! I also have a theory about the kalagang ending... My theory is that the show got alot of hate for being so white saviour...

2) A lot of people thought the Kala x Wolfgang relationship was super white saviouresque? So I think that Rajan just appeared to deal with that accusation. But more important question. What is up with white people and the name Raj, Raja, or Rajan (like even in Shadowhunters, and other shows) do they realise that there are other Indian names out there?

OMG. You love the same things as I do?? WE NEED TO BE FRIENDS ASAP. btw i’m gonna on a big as rant im sorry. 

So about kalagang... firstly, if anyone thought that kalagang was the white saviour trope obviously don’t watch the same show as both of us bc no where did wolfgang try to save kala from her problems, in fact kala dug her own grave most of the time. The only thing he did was support her and love her. 

And as for kala, as much as I love her, homegirl needs to face her problems on her own and not just ignore them like she did for the past two seasons bc ‘she has a duty towards her parents’, or ‘rajan is a good guy’. In an alternative universe if there was a season 3, maybe we would have seen kala come to terms with her fears and face her parents and rajan and come to terms with her truth which is obviously THAT SHE LOVES A WHITE GERMAN HUNK OF A MAN NAMED WOLFGANG BOGDANOW. That’s truly what I believe her character arc would have been and kalagang would have been endgame!! 

So yeah I firmly believe that lana just whipped out this plot out of thin air and she just went with it, disregarding all the character development she did with kala and kalagang in the first place just so there could be a ‘solution to the love triangle’. i mean really????

And I just want to point out kala being a dutiful daughter to her parents and sacrificing her own happiness just so her parents could be happy is super realistic and to me or any other brown girl living in india or around world bc we go through that shit every day. and I am so upset that her character arc was pretty much deleted from existence just so a ‘love triangle’ could be solved. BULL SHIT. 

i’m at this point where white people should really research if they want to add a character that represents our culture tbh, whether it is names or clothes (and don’t get me started on clothes). 

[blacknerdproblems]

One universal truth about dating is that you won’t meet the person at their realest in those early days. You meet their representative: the best or better version of themselves. So if you sun up on me looking like you couldn’t be bothered to bathe before coming out… it’s gonna be a no from me dawg because you upsetting me and my homegirl.

Brittany N. Williams, AN OPEN LETTER TO “UNDATEABLE BLERD MEN”: IT’S NOT US, IT’S YOU

[brownnesscrew]

…and because I fall short of what I say I’m all about your eyes leave with the soul that your body housed and you stare blankly into space thinkin’ of all the time you wasted in on all this basic shit…

I was going home for a month and you came to my house so we could spend time together before I left. We were beefing and you brought me flowers to make amends. Sunflowers because the florist said peach tulips weren’t in season. You smiled and I couldn’t remember why I was mad. It didn’t matter then. You were here. You were home. You have always felt like home to me. There was a moment that day…when we were laughing in bed that I looked up at you. Your hand across my stomach and my head on your chest, I looked at you and was happy. I knew with you…in us was where I wanted to always be.

That was a year ago this month. Blocked communication makes dialogue between us difficult these days. I told one of our friends I’m finally ready to admit that you robbed me of the belief in love for myself. I told him that the quicker I let go of the idea that love is for me, the easier it will be to move on and never be hurt again. Because I can’t trust the words or actions of men anymore. They can be meaningful and meaningless all at the same time.

I thought about you when the album dropped. Wondered what you’d say about it and how you’d rank it. Classic, right? Nothing like your beloved “Reasonable Doubt” but it’s up there. I only had one issue with Jay, though: strippers need their coin too.  “Family Feud” is my favorite and -before you say it- it’s not because she’s is on it…although when she started singing, my soul lifted. It’s something about him quoting the Quran over a sample of a Christian group singing a Hebrew tongue that just feels like Heaven to me.

I wondered what you’d say about Jay’s growth and how you’d see it in relation to your own. And then I played the track that reminds me of you the most. Reminds me of you because it’s not our story and that makes me sad. Listening to it, I laid across the bed that only you have been in and wondered what happened to us that we didn’t get to that point of restoration. I found myself sitting in the tension of wishing loving you never had to hurt and being upset that the pain didn’t produce the outcome of us being together.

…we’re supposed to vacay ‘til our backs burn we’re supposed to laugh ‘til our heart stops and then meet in a space where the dark stops and let love light the way…

Because if we’re going to go through this shit, it should be for a purpose. Right? Do we not love to be loved? Or have women like me mastered the art of being starter relation/situationships? Do we provide men like you with everything necessary to become the men you want to be---without us? Is that how this works? Who made these rules? I’m glad you’ve grown and are finding your way. But how am I supposed to celebrate growth that happened at my expense? What am I to make of a strength, nourished by food I cooked and dreams I fed, that I’ll never experience? There are far too many of us doing the emotional labor of birthing men we’ll never get to have and hold.

Sitting across from you in the coffee shop that day when you said you still wanted to be friends, it took everything in me not to slap the shit out of you. It was the sheer arrogance of it all. To receive the deepest of my love and ask me to settle for your crumbs. And so, I left them because I was always taught you don’t have to eat if you don’t want what’s being served. I fed you well and you were going to let me starve. I think about all the things men like you say that are so beyond ridiculous that they make absolutely no sense. “You’ve made me better.” “I know more about myself because of you.” As if women like me are one of those Myers-Briggs tests you take at required employee trainings.

I do apologize for punching you that one time, though. It was wrong despite the circumstances.

And even that night, love and care were present. You were running around trying to figure out how to stop my panic attack. The fear on your face. The tears you cried because you knew I would never be or look at you the same.  I wonder if you realize the cost we pay for loving men like you. My anxiety. Bey’s miscarriages. My cousin’s hair loss. Your homegirl’s weight gain. Depression. Suicidal ideation. Substance abuse. Retail therapy and maxed credit cards. Entertaining niggas we don’t even like just to feel wanted. So many forms of self-harm. We pay with our bodies. Sometimes our lives. And even in that trauma, we still find ways to sow deeper into the love we have for you, hoping it will get better. We cry out to God and give in to you. Our legs wrapped around your waist, praying yours don’t walk out of our lives. And then…when you’re done…we painfully watch you leave.

…our love was one for the ages and I contained us…

I say “men like you” because you don’t live on an island. You are part of a nation of brothers whose selfishness-turned-growth always leaves someone wounded. And we’re left with more questions than answers. How did this happen? Why didn’t I see it coming? What did I do wrong and how can I fix it? Wrestling with re-emerged insecurities because you were unable to deal with your own. You were right, you don’t deserve me. I’m too much for you.

But I never wanted to be too much. Only enough.

My girls came over, trying to cheer me up. Body rolling and singing “I ain’t sorry” knowing I’m lying. Knowing I’d willingly accept responsibility if it meant starting over. But we’re never supposed to say that out loud. It betrays all nouveau riche expressions of Black feminism and articulations of self-love. I’m not supposed to say I miss you and still love you. Because you broke my heart and my spirit. Because my best friend told me I deserve better and I responded, “I know…but still.” Because the commentary quickly shifted from discussing Jay’s actions to questioning why Bey stayed. Because we’re not supposed to have any grace for dudes who don’t have it for us. Remember when you said I was the picture of grace in your life? Funny how you refused to be it in mine. We 0:00-4:43 girls aren’t supposed to have any country for men like you because you don’t deserve it. And yet here we all are. With visceral reactions to an album that reminds us how we never got to “4:44”- all you gave us was “Song Cry”.

And I did. I cried.

Because I saw the best in you. I nurtured it, pruned it, watched it grow. And now someone else gets to sit in the field of my flowers. I can’t even fault her though. I’m sure our stories are similar. I’m sure, before you, there was one who robbed her of hope too. I’m sure he allowed her to invest in him with no intention of ever offering a return. So, I can’t even be mad. They say when one of us wins, all of us do. I mean…I guess. I just hope she knows where to offer gratitude. Because the man you are now doesn’t exist without me- that’s the legacy. And it’s a damn shame. I long for the day when a woman’s strength isn’t measured by how much shit she takes from a man as deeply as I yearn for a time when the growth of men doesn’t require broken hearts, shattered dreams and pounds of flesh.

So what are we supposed to do when we were one second away from a lifetime of sunflowers in summer? I hope your growth came with humility and truth-telling. I hope it finds a way to be honest with brothers, encouraging them not to be who you once were. Maybe who you still are now. I don’t know. I hope you will tell them that it’s not enough to have progressive race and gender analyses if they are going to wreak havoc in the intimate lives of the Black women who love them. I hope when the women in your life come to you with a story like mine, you will remember me and remind them that it isn’t their fault. I hope you’ll tell them that, unfortunately, loving a man who never deserved your love is a tale as old as time and the shame doesn’t belong to them. I hope you saw the men in you that I did -both of them- and rightly chose which one needed to live and who had to die.

As for me- I’ll think of you every time I hear this album. And if you aren’t in my life, I’ll say a prayer and wish you well. And I will encourage every sister to be unafraid of asking questions for fear that they may say the wrong thing too early. I will tell them to run from men who cannot show proof that they are actually doing the work to be well. I will challenge the men I know and love to just…do…better. To not exploit and exhaust the love of women and then discard them as if they are trash. And I will be proof to everyone -including you- that there is life after insufficient love and, though rare, peach tulips actually do bloom in summertime.

Thank you Candice.

[beautifulsoul11]

4:43 July 4, 2017 by Candice Benbow …and because I fall short of what I say I’m all about your eyes leave with the soul that your body housed and you stare blankly into space thinkin’ of all the time you wasted in on all this basic shit… I was going home for a month and you came to my house so we could spend time together before I left. We were beefing and you brought me flowers to make amends. Sunflowers because the florist said peach tulips weren’t in season. You smiled and I couldn’t remember why I was mad. It didn’t matter then. You were here. You were home. You have always felt like home to me. There was a moment that day…when we were laughing in bed that I looked up at you. Your hand across my stomach and my head on your chest, I looked at you and was happy. I knew with you…in us was where I wanted to always be. That was a year ago this month. Blocked communication makes dialogue between us difficult these days. I told one of our friends I’m finally ready to admit that you robbed me of the belief in love for myself. I told him that the quicker I let go of the idea that love is for me, the easier it will be to move on and never be hurt again. Because I can’t trust the words or actions of men anymore. They can be meaningful and meaningless all at the same time. I thought about you when the album dropped. Wondered what you’d say about it and how you’d rank it. Classic, right? Nothing like your beloved “Reasonable Doubt” but it’s up there. I only had one issue with Jay, though: strippers need their coin too. “Family Feud” is my favorite and -before you say it- it’s not because she’s is on it…although when she started singing, my soul lifted. It’s something about him quoting the Quran over a sample of a Christian group singing a Hebrew tongue that just feels like Heaven to me. I wondered what you’d say about Jay’s growth and how you’d see it in relation to your own. And then I played the track that reminds me of you the most. Reminds me of you because it’s not our story and that makes me sad. Listening to it, I laid across the bed that only you have been in and wondered what happened to us that we didn’t get to that point of restoration. I found myself sitting in the tension of wishing loving you never had to hurt and being upset that the pain didn’t produce the outcome of us being together. …we’re supposed to vacay ‘til our backs burn we’re supposed to laugh ‘til our heart stops and then meet in a space where the dark stops and let love light the way… Because if we’re going to go through this shit, it should be for a purpose. Right? Do we not love to be loved? Or have women like me mastered the art of being starter relation/situationships? Do we provide men like you with everything necessary to become the men you want to be---without us? Is that how this works? Who made these rules? I’m glad you’ve grown and are finding your way. But how am I supposed to celebrate growth that happened at my expense? What am I to make of a strength, nourished by food I cooked and dreams I fed, that I’ll never experience? There are far too many of us doing the emotional labor of birthing men we’ll never get to have and hold. Sitting across from you in the coffee shop that day when you said you still wanted to be friends, it took everything in me not to slap the shit out of you. It was the sheer arrogance of it all. To receive the deepest of my love and ask me to settle for your crumbs. And so, I left them because I was always taught you don’t have to eat if you don’t want what’s being served. I fed you well and you were going to let me starve. I think about all the things men like you say that are so beyond ridiculous that they make absolutely no sense. “You’ve made me better.” “I know more about myself because of you.” As if women like me are one of those Myers-Briggs tests you take at required employee trainings. I do apologize for punching you that one time, though. It was wrong despite the circumstances. And even that night, love and care were present. You were running around trying to figure out how to stop my panic attack. The fear on your face. The tears you cried because you knew I would never be or look at you the same. I wonder if you realize the cost we pay for loving men like you. My anxiety. Bey’s miscarriages. My cousin’s hair loss. Your homegirl’s weight gain. Depression. Suicidal ideation. Substance abuse. Retail therapy and maxed credit cards. Entertaining niggas we don’t even like just to feel wanted. So many forms of self-harm. We pay with our bodies. Sometimes our lives. And even in that trauma, we still find ways to sow deeper into the love we have for you, hoping it will get better. We cry out to God and give in to you. Our legs wrapped around your waist, praying yours don’t walk out of our lives. And then…when you’re done…we painfully watch you leave. …our love was one for the ages and I contained us… I say “men like you” because you don’t live on an island. You are part of a nation of brothers whose selfishness-turned-growth always leaves someone wounded. And we’re left with more questions than answers. How did this happen? Why didn’t I see it coming? What did I do wrong and how can I fix it? Wrestling with re-emerged insecurities because you were unable to deal with your own. You were right, you don’t deserve me. I’m too much for you. But I never wanted to be too much. Only enough. My girls came over, trying to cheer me up. Body rolling and singing “I ain’t sorry” knowing I’m lying. Knowing I’d willingly accept responsibility if it meant starting over. But we’re never supposed to say that out loud. It betrays all nouveau riche expressions of Black feminism and articulations of self-love. I’m not supposed to say I miss you and still love you. Because you broke my heart and my spirit. Because my best friend told me I deserve better and I responded, “I know…but still.” Because the commentary quickly shifted from discussing Jay’s actions to questioning why Bey stayed. Because we’re not supposed to have any grace for dudes who don’t have it for us. Remember when you said I was the picture of grace in your life? Funny how you refused to be it in mine. We 0:00-4:43 girls aren’t supposed to have any country for men like you because you don’t deserve it. And yet here we all are. With visceral reactions to an album that reminds us how we never got to “4:44”- all you gave us was “Song Cry”. And I did. I cried. Because I saw the best in you. I nurtured it, pruned it, watched it grow. And now someone else gets to sit in the field of my flowers. I can’t even fault her though. I’m sure our stories are similar. I’m sure, before you, there was one who robbed her of hope too. I’m sure he allowed her to invest in him with no intention of ever offering a return. So, I can’t even be mad. They say when one of us wins, all of us do. I mean…I guess. I just hope she knows where to offer gratitude. Because the man you are now doesn’t exist without me- that’s the legacy. And it’s a damn shame. I long for the day when a woman’s strength isn’t measured by how much shit she takes from a man as deeply as I yearn for a time when the growth of men doesn’t require broken hearts, shattered dreams and pounds of flesh. So what are we supposed to do when we were one second away from a lifetime of sunflowers in summer? I hope your growth came with humility and truth-telling. I hope it finds a way to be honest with brothers, encouraging them not to be who you once were. Maybe who you still are now. I don’t know. I hope you will tell them that it’s not enough to have progressive race and gender analyses if they are going to wreak havoc in the intimate lives of the Black women who love them. I hope when the women in your life come to you with a story like mine, you will remember me and remind them that it isn’t their fault. I hope you’ll tell them that, unfortunately, loving a man who never deserved your love is a tale as old as time and the shame doesn’t belong to them. I hope you saw the men in you that I did -both of them- and rightly chose which one needed to live and who had to die. As for me- I’ll think of you every time I hear this album. And if you aren’t in my life, I’ll say a prayer and wish you well. And I will encourage every sister to be unafraid of asking questions for fear that they may say the wrong thing too early. I will tell them to run from men who cannot show proof that they are actually doing the work to be well. I will challenge the men I know and love to just…do…better. To not exploit and exhaust the love of women and then discard them as if they are trash. And I will be proof to everyone -including you- that there is life after insufficient love and, though rare, peach tulips actually do bloom in summertime. “4:44” lyrics are italicized. Written by Shawn “Jay-Z” Carter, they can be found here. -This is a must read!!!

[pandinasbox]

…and because I fall short of what I say I’m all about your eyes leave with the soul that your body housed and you stare blankly into space thinkin’ of all the time you wasted in on all this basic shit… I was going home for a month and you came to my house so we could spend time together before I left. We were beefing and you brought me flowers to make amends. Sunflowers because the florist said peach tulips weren’t in season. You smiled and I couldn’t remember why I was mad. It didn’t matter then. You were here. You were home. You have always felt like home to me. There was a moment that day…when we were laughing in bed that I looked up at you. Your hand across my stomach and my head on your chest, I looked at you and was happy. I knew with you…in us was where I wanted to always be. That was a year ago this month. Blocked communication makes dialogue between us difficult these days. I told one of our friends I’m finally ready to admit that you robbed me of the belief in love for myself. I told him that the quicker I let go of the idea that love is for me, the easier it will be to move on and never be hurt again. Because I can’t trust the words or actions of men anymore. They can be meaningful and meaningless all at the same time. I thought about you when the album dropped. Wondered what you’d say about it and how you’d rank it. Classic, right? Nothing like your beloved “Reasonable Doubt” but it’s up there. I only had one issue with Jay, though: strippers need their coin too. “Family Feud” is my favorite and -before you say it- it’s not because she’s is on it…although when she started singing, my soul lifted. It’s something about him quoting the Quran over a sample of a Christian group singing a Hebrew tongue that just feels like Heaven to me. I wondered what you’d say about Jay’s growth and how you’d see it in relation to your own. And then I played the track that reminds me of you the most. Reminds me of you because it’s not our story and that makes me sad. Listening to it, I laid across the bed that only you have been in and wondered what happened to us that we didn’t get to that point of restoration. I found myself sitting in the tension of wishing loving you never had to hurt and being upset that the pain didn’t produce the outcome of us being together. …we’re supposed to vacay ‘til our backs burn we’re supposed to laugh ‘til our heart stops and then meet in a space where the dark stops and let love light the way… Because if we’re going to go through this shit, it should be for a purpose. Right? Do we not love to be loved? Or have women like me mastered the art of being starter relation/situationships? Do we provide men like you with everything necessary to become the men you want to be---without us? Is that how this works? Who made these rules? I’m glad you’ve grown and are finding your way. But how am I supposed to celebrate growth that happened at my expense? What am I to make of a strength, nourished by food I cooked and dreams I fed, that I’ll never experience? There are far too many of us doing the emotional labor of birthing men we’ll never get to have and hold. Sitting across from you in the coffee shop that day when you said you still wanted to be friends, it took everything in me not to slap the shit out of you. It was the sheer arrogance of it all. To receive the deepest of my love and ask me to settle for your crumbs. And so, I left them because I was always taught you don’t have to eat if you don’t want what’s being served. I fed you well and you were going to let me starve. I think about all the things men like you say that are so beyond ridiculous that they make absolutely no sense. “You’ve made me better.” “I know more about myself because of you.” As if women like me are one of those Myers-Briggs tests you take at required employee trainings. I do apologize for punching you that one time, though. It was wrong despite the circumstances. And even that night, love and care were present. You were running around trying to figure out how to stop my panic attack. The fear on your face. The tears you cried because you knew I would never be or look at you the same. I wonder if you realize the cost we pay for loving men like you. My anxiety. Bey’s miscarriages. My cousin’s hair loss. Your homegirl’s weight gain. Depression. Suicidal ideation. Substance abuse. Retail therapy and maxed credit cards. Entertaining niggas we don’t even like just to feel wanted. So many forms of self-harm. We pay with our bodies. Sometimes our lives. And even in that trauma, we still find ways to sow deeper into the love we have for you, hoping it will get better. We cry out to God and give in to you. Our legs wrapped around your waist, praying yours don’t walk out of our lives. And then…when you’re done…we painfully watch you leave. …our love was one for the ages and I contained us… I say “men like you” because you don’t live on an island. You are part of a nation of brothers whose selfishness-turned-growth always leaves someone wounded. And we’re left with more questions than answers. How did this happen? Why didn’t I see it coming? What did I do wrong and how can I fix it? Wrestling with re-emerged insecurities because you were unable to deal with your own. You were right, you don’t deserve me. I’m too much for you. But I never wanted to be too much. Only enough. My girls came over, trying to cheer me up. Body rolling and singing “I ain’t sorry” knowing I’m lying. Knowing I’d willingly accept responsibility if it meant starting over. But we’re never supposed to say that out loud. It betrays all nouveau riche expressions of Black feminism and articulations of self-love. I’m not supposed to say I miss you and still love you. Because you broke my heart and my spirit. Because my best friend told me I deserve better and I responded, “I know…but still.” Because the commentary quickly shifted from discussing Jay’s actions to questioning why Bey stayed. Because we’re not supposed to have any grace for dudes who don’t have it for us. Remember when you said I was the picture of grace in your life? Funny how you refused to be it in mine. We 0:00-4:43 girls aren’t supposed to have any country for men like you because you don’t deserve it. And yet here we all are. With visceral reactions to an album that reminds us how we never got to “4:44”- all you gave us was “Song Cry”. And I did. I cried. Because I saw the best in you. I nurtured it, pruned it, watched it grow. And now someone else gets to sit in the field of my flowers. I can’t even fault her though. I’m sure our stories are similar. I’m sure, before you, there was one who robbed her of hope too. I’m sure he allowed her to invest in him with no intention of ever offering a return. So, I can’t even be mad. They say when one of us wins, all of us do. I mean…I guess. I just hope she knows where to offer gratitude. Because the man you are now doesn’t exist without me- that’s the legacy. And it’s a damn shame. I long for the day when a woman’s strength isn’t measured by how much shit she takes from a man as deeply as I yearn for a time when the growth of men doesn’t require broken hearts, shattered dreams and pounds of flesh. So what are we supposed to do when we were one second away from a lifetime of sunflowers in summer? I hope your growth came with humility and truth-telling. I hope it finds a way to be honest with brothers, encouraging them not to be who you once were. Maybe who you still are now. I don’t know. I hope you will tell them that it’s not enough to have progressive race and gender analyses if they are going to wreak havoc in the intimate lives of the Black women who love them. I hope when the women in your life come to you with a story like mine, you will remember me and remind them that it isn’t their fault. I hope you’ll tell them that, unfortunately, loving a man who never deserved your love is a tale as old as time and the shame doesn’t belong to them. I hope you saw the men in you that I did -both of them- and rightly chose which one needed to live and who had to die. As for me- I’ll think of you every time I hear this album. And if you aren’t in my life, I’ll say a prayer and wish you well. And I will encourage every sister to be unafraid of asking questions for fear that they may say the wrong thing too early. I will tell them to run from men who cannot show proof that they are actually doing the work to be well. I will challenge the men I know and love to just…do…better. To not exploit and exhaust the love of women and then discard them as if they are trash. And I will be proof to everyone -including you- that there is life after insufficient love and, though rare, peach tulips actually do bloom in summertime.

Candice Benbow - "4:43" - http://www.candicebenbow.com/blog/443