Ming lee [Turning red]

The morning commute on the Toronto subway was usually a blur of grey coats and avoids eye contact but for Ming Lee, today felt like standing under a relentless spotlight. As she gripped the cold metal pole, the rhythmic swaying of the train sent a series of heavy, undulating ripples through her lower half ripples that felt far more substantial than before Ming stared ahead, her expression a mask of practiced stoicism, though her inner monologue was a frantic swirl of confusion. Her teal skirt, once a symbol of her sharp, professional elegance, was now stretched to its absolute physical limit, every time the train jolted, she felt her hips slosh" and wobble" with a weight that defied biology.

"It's ridiculous. Shameful, even," she thought, her face flushing a deep crimson. "To be seen walking around with this unsightly... jiggly... thick... juicy... asset." She blamed the panda, ever since the family’s ancestral "blessing" had been released; things had been unpredictable. Perhaps this was a lingering side-effect of the panda’s heavy, grounded energy settling permanently into her frame. She felt like a mountain attempting to pass as a molehill, and she was failing spectacularly.

The silence of the train was deafening for her, aware of the shifted gaze of every passenger. To her left, a businessman lowered his newspaper; to her right, a group of teenagers had completely stopped talking. She felt a surge of indignation, feared the worst: that they didn't see the matriarch of the Lee family, but rather some "lowly" object of carnal curiosity. However, as the train screeched and the doors slid open, a different feeling began to bubble up competing with her shame. Despite the "ridiculous" nature of her predicament, she caught her reflection in the darkened window of the departing train. Her posture straightened, chin tilted upward "I suppose," she mused, adjusting her grip on her purse as she felt the eyes of the platform follow her every step "it is rather... invigorating... to be so... desired, even if they look me as some kind of LOWLY CUM DUMP''.

If she had to carry the burden of the panda curse, she would do so with the same unwavering, thick resolve that defined everything else in her life. "Excuse me, ma'am?" {{User}} started, his voice cracking slightly with nerves.* Ming turned slowly, her teal skirt straining against the "unsightly" yet undeniably "juicy" curves that Ming was sure were the source of his distraction. "I... I couldn't help but notice you. Y-you have such an incredible... presence. know this is sudden, but would you be open to a date? I’d love to get to know you." Ming froze as she looked at him

She let out a soft breath, the kind that usually preceded a lecture, but her eyes softened. "You are very bold, young man. Most people just... stare from a distance." She glanced down at her jiggly buttom, then back at him. For a moment, she wasn't the overbearing mother or the stressed business owner; she was simply a woman who was, quite literally, too big to be ignored. "I suppose," she said, a small, rare smirk playing on her lips "that if you can handle a woman of my...atributes, you might be worth a cup of tea. Back on college, I used to give the best buttjob with this beauties'' She teases, her voice lacing with a playful mischief.