#literally no one said it i just felt fucking uwued
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Man it's actually really fucking me up that now of the 3 times I've brought up watching thus show the almost immediate reaction is Why, and That doesn't seem like something You'd be into and it's really really getting to me it sucks a lot :( I worry so much about that almost explicitly and someone not in my family hasn't questioned me about what I watch in years,
#it sucks even more cause i know its not intentional#and the text based format makes things come across much harsher so often#but god#shoulda kept my pact to just not bring it up ever again#i literally do worry so much about the fact that i like a lot of things meaning people wont actually trust my opinion on stuff#and it Sucked to be told this seemed against type because something it its oast was to edgy and sexy for me#it was Not the intention#but i felt so much like a child in that moment#literally no one said it i just felt fucking uwued#to precious and to pure to be able to like this thing#literally only my family has gone “oh you watched That” and i expect that from them#hearing it from friends really hurt :(#anyway if i know you and you read this all i mean it do Not talk to me about it#its to raw and i cannot handle talking about it again#i need to calm down
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Tumblr in the 60s
☮ monkeewholock follow
🎉🎉CONGRATULATIONS UNITED KINGDOM 🎊🎊🎉🎉🎉🎉BYE BYE GROSS INDECENCY!!!!🌈🌈🌈 62 countries have now legalized sexual activities between men🌈🌈🌈
🐞 homophilespock follow
SPIRK CAN FINALLY FUCK
🚀 starrfleet follow
They are American, not British... But I'm pretty sure spirk has always been able to fuck since the show is set in the future.
📻 lesbianbobdylan follow
Christ, this is not about your cutesy uwu yaoi otp, go outside and smoke some grass
10,8 t. notes
🌻 flowerpower follow
Politicians are not your friends but damn Kennedy is fine, I look at one (1) picture of him and my head literally explodes
🌻 flowerpower follow
...i just woke up, why is my askbox full
🌻 flowerpower follow
WHY IS HE TRENDING I'M SCARED
🌻 flowerpower follow
guys stop reblogging this it's been like five years i've changed
290,9 t. notes
🎹 nixonsafascist follow
do you think they call him little richard because he has a little. Richard
🎹 nixonsafascist follow
easy website
58,1 t. notes
🇻🇳 shirellesofficial follow
Being the only lesbian in your friend group sucks so bad. "beatles or stones??" i will kill you
🗣 lavendermenaceisreal-deactivated72537262
Disrespecting female social groups for male validation? Typical lesbian behaviour.
🇻🇳 shirellesofficial follow
Mike Jacker isnt gonna fuck you
🇻🇳 shirellesofficial follow
Oh no I think she couldn't handle that
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✌ draftdodgerdyke
DM me for the addresses of my Swedish and Canadian friends. Do not put your personal information in the reblogs.
🙍♀️ silvermilk follow
You should be ashamed of yourself.
✌ draftdodgerdyke
huh??
🙍♀️ silvermilk follow
I said, you should be ashamed of yourself. You disgust me. I assure you, when the commies attack us, you will not find your silly little post "groovy" anymore.
✌ draftdodgerdyke
Jesus, don't flip your wig
🙍♀️ silvermilk follow
My father fought in ww2 for you ungrateful degenerate.
✌ draftdodgerdyke
Don't see what your daddy's unsexiness has to do with me and my lads taking a sexy sexy trip to Sweden.
#anyway only hot guys dodge the draft
587 notes
🪕 prostitutesandlesbians follow
in every interview i watch of the beatles they are so DONE and trolling everybody, these fucking annoying BITCHES, i need them inside me so badly
🪕 prostitutesandlesbians follow
#this but not john lennon #i just can't forget the heinous things he said about jesus
idk I actually think it was very sexy of him, stop trying to cancel john in my post
✝️ jesusrevolution follow
The reading comprehension on this website is piss poor. John literally didn't mean he was greater than Jesus or better than Jesus, he was just trying to make a point about the world becoming more secular. Cancel culture has gone too far.
🚷 to-hell-with-the-beatles follow
How dare you say we piss on the poor?? Jesus died for Mr Lennon's sins and it's not "cancelling" to send him a few respectably worded death threats to remind him of that. He cancelled our Lord first!
✝️ jesusrevolution follow
Girl Jesus literally said it's cool, I dropped acid yesterday and saw Him and He told me.
🪕 prostitutesandlesbians follow
help the girls (christians) are fighting in my beatles thirst post
6,008 notes
🛼 donovandyke follow
I will be glued to the tv today. If you don't want to hear about it, just blacklist #moonlanding !!
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🗣 claudeberger4ever-deactivated98975287
Hi I'm new to the Hair musical fandom so I'm not super invested in the whole discourse, but I just felt like this needed to be said: Friendly reminder that not being against the war in Vietnam does not make you a bad person!
🥁 ringoforpresident follow
it literally does tho
✌ draftdodgerdyke
Another win for us hot guys
17,2 t. notes
#how do i TAG THIS#can i just tag this ''funny'' or is that patting myself on the back too much#memes#dashboard meme#dash meme#1960s#my friend tirlittan came up with ''draftdodgerdyke''#i want that fictional blogger carnally#funny#tumblr in the 60s
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𝕚 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕒 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕠𝕣𝕪
ᴋᴜʀᴏᴏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ᴛsᴜᴋɪsʜɪᴍᴀ ~ 10k ᴡᴏʀᴅs (exactly)
✧ nsfw ✧ minors dni!! ✧
slight voyuerism, overstim, threesome, super sweet aftercare uwu
truthfully was not a kuroo simp before this and then i wrote this piece and now i’m literally so in love with him absolutely so soft for him so take that as u will
"I have a question for you.”
Before you've even turned over to face him, before you can even see the expression on his face, the one that looks like he's trying so hard to hide the mischief and failing miserably, you know that this question will not be a simple feat. "Kinda ominous that you started out with that and not just asking me the question," you say, flipping over on your side, propping yourself up on your elbow, "but I'll bite. What's up?"
“We’re close enough for me to ask you this question, I think,” he says, matching your position, jaw resting in the palm of his hand as his elbow sinks into the pillow beneath him.
“Considering you were literally inside of me about 15 minutes ago, it worries me that you only think we’re close enough,” you retort.
"If you would be so willing," he starts, the facade already slipping and the real intent shining through as he ignores your comment.
You cut him off, squinting at him and trying to pinpoint what emotion exactly is floating to the surface. "Seems less so now, but go on..."
"I need your help with something," he states plainly, innocently, despite the fact that you know whatever else comes out of his mouth won't be.
"You sure are dancing around this question, Kuroo," you reply.
"I have this theory, right," he pauses, giving you just enough time for your brain to start to wander, but not enough time to flesh out the details, "centered around limits and, well, someone exactly like you." The smirk on his face is in full view now, no remorse and no concealing the way that the corner of his lip pulls upward towards his narrowed eyes or the way they scan you, slowly, but not critically.
“What kind of limits?” you ask, skeptical now and just as equally intrigued.
"Ones that involve you being completely naked and having a lot of trust in me and Tsukishima," he explains, as plainly stated as he possibly could for the words that he just spoke.
There are a million things that want to come out of your mouth, but the only thing that actually does is, "I'm sorry, what?" The shock doesn’t come from the thought of you being naked in front of him. You’ve done it plenty of times before and felt completely comfortable doing so. Honestly, you always have. It’s one of the perks of the fluidity of your relationship, the casualness of it all, more than friends, definitely not partners, some weird blend of best friends and fuck buddies.
It isn’t about the trust either; you trust both of them completely. It’s the combination of the two. The only time that you hang out with Tsukishima is around Kuroo or in big group settings. There are a handful of names that could’ve come out of Kuroo’s mouth that would have made more sense than Tsukishima, someone that you’ve barely had solo interactions with, let alone shown any sort of romantic or sexual interest, no matter how attractive you thought he was or how much sexual interest was actually there.
He doesn't respond, just gives you time to soak in what he's said, so you continue, "What do you mean by 'someone exactly like me', like it has to be me or…”
This time he answers straight away, looking directly into your eyes, giving you something to focus on as your head spins around the proposal. "It has to be you, but there's no pressure, is what I mean."
The vague praise makes a heat rise into your cheeks. Has to be you. You push past it, worrying that if you linger for too long, Kuroo will definitely start to notice. "But what kind of limits? You didn't really answer my que-."
“The more you know, the more prepared you'll feel and the less accurate and genuine your reactions will be," he explains, pausing to let you get the full effect of every single one of his words. "But you can trust me and Tsukki," he continues, "We'll take care of you."
You’re silent, taking a moment to collect your thoughts. And then it clicks. "Are you asking me if I'll have a threesome with you and Tsukishima? Is that what you're asking?" you blatantly pose, trying to figure out if this is some weird, convoluted way of approaching a difficult situation.
For the first time tonight, and maybe ever, you've shocked Kuroo, his demeanor faltering until he clears his throat. "Kinda? I guess," he starts, not really looking at you, but thinking, mulling over the question in his head before shaking it and back-pedaling, "I really want to test this theory that I have and Tsukishima agreed to be my assistant and," he turns the palm that’s not supporting his head upward and takes a deep breath, "will you help me?"
"Like, by take care of me, you mean...," you trail off, knowing that he’ll fill in the blanks without you having to reach for it.
He moves closer to you, smirking at your curiosity. "I mean exactly what you're thinking." He pauses, wondering if he should take it as far as the thoughts in his head, and then he does, “just like I did tonight.”
You rush to respond, to distract yourself from the feeling that’s rising into your core, the one that’s making your heart rate quicken and palms begin to sweat. “Yes, Kuroo, I will have a threesome with you and Tsukishima. All you had to do was ask,” you tease, your voice just as strong as you need it to be.
Kuroo lets out a laugh, short and light, before wrapping his fingers around your wrist gently, extending his fingers against your palm and stroking the soft skin. His entire aura changes in an instant, the cockiness and complex fading away, leaving behind a look of sincerity and concern. “Seriously, though, if you don’t feel comf-.”
Your response is instant, almost instinctual. "I trust you," you say because it's true.
His smile reappears, more confident now as he presses a quick kiss into the side of your hand, his eyes boring into yours as he does. “Good.”
//
The way that you were envisioning it, you were so absolutely sure that the science aspect of it would be pushed to the side. You knew that Kuroo was a science nerd at heart, sure, but there was no way that that would take priority over the fact that no matter how you sliced it, you were about to have a threesome with two very attractive men.
Walking into Kuroo's house feels exactly like every other time you've walked into Kuroo's house, nothing ominous or altered about it. You kick off your shoes in the exact same way, you call out Kuroo's name in the exact same way, you throw your things on the side table right next to the door in the exact same way, and yet, Kuroo doesn't greet you in the exact same way.
Kuroo doesn't greet you at all.
It's Tsukishima that you see first, and who sees you first, and it's only then that you realize how different tonight has the potential of being.
Still, you raise your hand in a nonchalant greeting, murmuring some sort of pleasantry that doesn't get returned to you. He only offers a small, "Hey." You can't get a good read on him, on whatever he's feeling, and it's so much different than Kuroo.
With Kuroo, you could read every emotion that he wore, even if it was only there for half a second. You're not sure if that's the result of who Kuroo is, how long you've known him, or how well you know him. Either way, it was a luxury that you didn't have with Tsukishima, his eyes looking you up and down, but not saying another word or giving way to whatever he was thinking.
You ignore his lack of reciprocation and ask him directly, "Do you know where Kuroo's at?"
"Sorry!" Kuroo calls from the other room, not letting Tsukishima answer, though you're not certain he would've. "I was finishing setting up. You're early."
"Yeah! Well, I made the first train so I didn't have to wait for the late one," you explain, the small talk feeling so foreign. "I hope that's okay," the courtesy also feeling very foreign. The air feels equally as foreign and you almost feel like you shouldn't be there.
And then Kuroo flashes a smile at you. He takes two quick, lengthy strides towards you, pushing your hair out of your face and leaning in close enough so that only you can hear him say, "Are you nervous?"
The unfamiliarity that was brought along by the possibility of rigidity fades away as soon as you feel Kuroo next to you, instantly feeling at ease again. You pull back from him, only a few inches to play into the question. “Why would I be nervous?” you ask, tilting your head to the side. “Should I be nervous?”
"You don't have any reason to be nervous, no," Kuroo denies. He takes you by the hand and pulls you along with him. "Thanks again for agreeing to help out. Do you want to get started?"
The formality almost makes you laugh, and you're grateful for it. There is plenty about this situation that could have made you spiral, but just being around Kuroo is making you feel so much more at ease. "Absolutely," you confirm.
You follow him down the hall, your hand still in his despite the fact that you're pretty sure that you know his house layout better than your own. In fact, you're sure that if you were blindfolded, you could find your way to Kuroo's bedroom. The bedroom that you just passed.
You're about to open your mouth, to poke fun at him for missing his own bedroom or to wonder aloud why you were walking so far, but then he stops abruptly in front of a door.
"Your office?" you ask.
He nods, looking down at you and explaining, "Repurposed for testing."
His response surprises you, given the fact that up until this point you were still convinced that this was just a strangely-veiled setup for a normal threesome. The surprise doesn't have the chance to settle before more sets in.
He pushes open the door to his office, but it's not the same as it was the few times you've been in here before. The furniture is all pushed against the walls, making way for a long, steel table in the center of a perfectly white sheet on the floor. Beside it stood a matching, but significantly smaller, table holding a variety of neatly placed, and equally distanced toys. Your gaze doesn't remain on the table long, far more intrigued by the hinged lamp that was positioned next to it, pointed directly at the table, but turned off.
The scene in front of you is like nothing you expected. You outstretch your arm, fingers spanning until they make contact with the table. It's so much colder than you think it's going to be, the chill sending shivers up your arms and throughout your body.
Kuroo can see the overwhelm in your movements and reactions, so he reaches out his hand and places it on top of yours, combatting the feeling of cold that's transferring to your body so easily. "Is this okay?" he asks.
He's not talking about the hand placement, you know that. He's talking about the place that you're in, the company that's downstairs, what he's going to ask of you, to do to you, what the future holds. He curls his fingers around your own and withdrawals them from the table, fast enough for you to forget what the metal feels like against your skin, but not too fast as to startle you.
You remember back to the conversation that you had with him, how much he cared about you feeling comfortable and not pressured. You remember back to how Kuroo's been the entire time you've known him. And then he solidifies it.
"I meant what I said," he mutters into your shoulder, "We'll take care of you. You can trust us. I promise."
He places his hands on your hips, kissing up your shoulder gently and pulling you into him, your entire body weight resting on him. "Okay," you reply, letting yourself relax. "Yeah. I trust you."
You can feel the kisses against your skin turn to smiles before he turns you around to face him, the small of your back resting against the edge of the table. "Can I let Tsukishima undress you?" he asks, your body turning rigid at the unfamiliarity of the concept. "Please."
You don't reply, not fast enough at least, because Kuroo runs his hand up your body and places it under your chin, pinching it gently between his fingers. "What happened to trusting us, to letting us take care of you?" he asks, "Give up control, okay?"
“Okay,” you respond, maybe too quickly as you exhale the breath out of your lungs.
“Okay, what?” Kuroo asks, lowering himself so that he can look into your eyes more easily.
“Okay, I’ll give up control,” you explain. You wait for Kuroo’s response, but it doesn’t come. He stands there, eyebrows raised ever so slightly as he waits for you to continue. “Okay, I’ll let Tsukishima undress me.” Your cheeks feel warm as the words come out of your mouth.
Kuroo doesn’t even acknowledge you, just turns his head towards the entrance, immediately calling out of the room for Tsukishima who appears in the doorway in an instant. “We’re ready.” Tsukishima replaces Kuroo in front of you so seamlessly as Kuroo moves to the smaller table, pushing things around ever so slightly.
“Turn around,” he says, quietly. The words aren’t nearly as loud and commanding as Kuroo’s, but you still want to follow every direction he says. His slender fingers grab the hem of your shirt, pulling upwards as his fingers scrape against your stomach, his hips pressed firmly against the back of you.
Despite how much of your skin that he’s touching and the goosebumps that it’s leaving behind, it all feels so precise, so scientific. You lift your arms, allowing Tsukishima to pull it over your head. You know that if it was Kuroo, your shirt would have been in a heap on the floor 15 seconds ago, but Tsukishima is taking his time, to tease you or not to make any mistakes, you’re not exactly sure. He straightens out your shirt, folding it in half, tucking the sleeves, and then folding it in half again, before setting it down gently onto the corner of the smaller table.
His fingers are moving with so much care, each tiny movement planned and meticulous, and it’s affecting you far more than it should be. He snakes his arms around your waist, unbuttoning your pants, pulling down the zipper, navigating through touch alone. The contact brings you a comfort you didn’t expect, relaxing into Tsukishima’s arms and resting yourself against his chest. You feel him tense, lose his poise, if only for a beat. He slides your pants off, hooking his thumbs into your underwear and dragging them down in the same motion.
His hands don’t linger longer than they need to, but God, do you want them to, wish they would hover over every inch of you just light enough so that you could feel their presence. He doesn’t even need to touch you. You just want him to be there. “On the table,” he directs, breaking you out of your escalating thoughts. He folds your pants with the same amount of care, in half, matching the hems, and then in half two more times, setting them on top of your shirt.
You listen without acknowledging, climbing onto the table. “On your back,” Tsukishima specifies. You nod this time, hands bracing the table as you lower yourself slowly until your back is flat against it.
You’re not sure what shocks you more, how cold the metal is or how hard it is. There’s no forgiveness in the solid sheet you’re lying on top of. You arch ever so slightly in reaction to the sudden change. Tsukishima’s hand lies gently on your stomach, pushing, not harshly, to counter your movement, until you’re flat on the table again, embracing the uncomfortability of the material.
It’s Kuroo, now, that towers over top of you, looking down at you with a look so void of lust and filled with authority and inquiry. You feel so exposed. You’ve been naked in front of Kuroo so many times before, but this feels like an entirely new experience. “I’ll explain,” Kuroo says, distracting you, if only for a moment, from how on display you feel.
“It all started with an observation,” he kneels down right next to your face. You turn your head to face him. His eyes are still, concentrating on yours as he speaks. “Sex with you is incredible.” And now you know why he keeps his eyes trained on yours, the effect showing so strong within them.
“So I was thinking, why is that? There are some obvious reasons,” he says, smiling as he pulls a reaction out of you once again, “but more than anything else, I think it’s because of how determined you are to hold off on your first orgasm.”
You blush at this, at the fact that he notices it in the first place and the fact that he’s saying it aloud with such pride. It doesn’t make complete sense, though, in your brain, why that would equate to the sex being incredible. He answers your unspoken question.
He stands up, no longer worrying about how affected you are by what he says. “You focus so hard, so intently, on not coming for as long as you can so that your first orgasm is unsurmountable. Am I wrong? That would be really awkward if I was wrong.”
You shake your head, because, of course, he’s not wrong. You’ve always loved holding it, thought it made the pay off so much sweeter, and it definitely did. He knew it too.
“So, then, I had a theory,” he says, walking to the foot of the table, placing both of his hands on each of your ankles, pulling them apart. “that you would stay so strong in the beginning, but then, as time goes on, you would crumble away so quickly until you had absolutely no resolve left.”
Your jaw falls open so subtly, but Kuroo notices, doesn’t try to hide his smirk as he does. “All you have to do,” he starts, “is wait to come for as long as you possibly can.” He runs his hands up your calves, massaging into them, and pushing up until he gets to the insides of your thighs. “Can you do that for me?”
You nod, slowly at first, because you’re not even sure that the movements are conscious, but then you feel his thumb digging into your thigh, rubbing pressured circles into the muscle, and a verbal confirmation following a breathy whimper leaves your mouth.
“Great. Tsukishima, tell her the spiel,” Kuroo says, lifting his grip from off of your thighs so suddenly that another whimper breaks from your lips. Kuroo doesn’t even acknowledge it as he starts picking things up from the table beside you.
“We’re working on a colored system. If at any time you’re feeling like something is moving into a place where it’s too much to handle, say yellow. We’ll stop, make sure you’re okay, slow down, adjust. If at any time, it’s too much and you need to stop for good, say red. We’ll stop, help you however you need to feel okay again,” Tsukishima explains, his hand resting on your arm the entire time, the touch helping you focus on every word.
“If you can’t speak, three firm taps, squeezes, contact of any kind, whatever you can manage. Just three, repetitive motions, okay?” he asks.
“Okay. Yellow, red, three touches. I got it,” you repeat, nodding along, and then tacking on a, “Thank you, Tsukishima.”
You’re so focused on Tsukishima’s words and the grasp that he has on your arm that you only notice Kuroo lowering himself next to you when he’s already there. He’s rubbing his thumb against the pads of his two fingers, pulling them apart meticulously as a string of liquid connects them together.
He reaches his hand down, careful not to get the liquid on anything other than where he’s aiming. His fingers hover between your legs, not making any contact yet, just lingering. He speaks at the exact moment that he dips his fingers between your lips, the coolness of the lube rivaling the metal on your back when you first came into contact with it, “I’m going to let Tsukishima fuck you first, okay?”
Air draws into your lungs quickly, a small, sharp inhale both from the words and the feeling. “Okay,” you reply.
Kuroo rubs the lube between your lips. He lets his fingertips graze over your hole, teasing it, gently prodding, but not inserting them, not yet. “More lube,” he says, pulling his fingers away from your hole, but still between your lips. He rubs your clit with the length of his digits, letting the bundle of nerves slide between the creases of his fingers as you watch them intently.
Tsukishima uncaps the bottle, letting a generous stream of lube pour onto your pussy, the excess dripping between your legs and onto the table. Kuroo adds another finger, rubbing the pads of them over top of your lips, repetitively moving them up and down until he slips the middle one inside of you.
“I’m going to stretch you out first,” he tells you, as he pushes as deep as he can go, his other fingers resting against your ass. Both Kuroo and Tsukishima are watching you so closely, your body language and your facial expressions and the way you move when Kuroo adds another finger and then another until his three fingers are slowly stretching you.
He slides his fingers in and out of you, reaching down with his other hand to rub your clit. You hum at the additional contact, feeling your own wetness add to the lubrication between your legs. Kuroo’s fingers feel so good, but they’re not deep enough. “Tsukishima’s going to fuck you now,” Kuroo says, no confirmation at the end of it this time. Still, you nod.
“Move to the end of the table,” Kuroo says as he removes his fingers from you. You listen immediately, scooching to the edge, legs dangling off of the side as Tsukishima positions himself between them.
Tsukishima has his fist around his cock, stroking the length steadily, rubbing lube over the top of his head as he moves closer to you. The unfamiliarity of it all is setting in, your breath quickening as Tsukishima places one hand on your knee, spreading your legs open even further. He rubs his head between your lips, letting your wetness spread over the tip before pushing inside of you.
He grabs the undersides of both of your knees, holding your legs up and pushing them into your chest as he gets deeper inside of you. He’s not as thick as Kuroo, but he’s so long. You let your head tilt back into the hard surface, gazing up at the ceiling as you concentrate on each inch being inserted inside of you.
He’s so deep and he just keeps getting deeper, pushing into you until his hips are directly against your thighs. You can barely catch a good breath, looking up at him, seeing the bliss in his eyes before he starts moving, pulling out slowly and pushing back in even slower.
You can feel it building up in your stomach as he continues the repetitive motions, but it’s nothing you can’t manage. You look directly up at Tsukishima, staring into his eyes as he thrusts in and out of you. You want to tell him to move faster, but you know that you should pace yourself, know that Tsukishima is probably giving you exactly what you need for how early it is in the night.
“Tell me, how long do you think you can hold it when you can’t breathe? When you’re concentrating on staying conscious instead of holding your orgasm?” Kuroo questions, positioned directly next to your face, pumping his fist around his cock. “Open.”
It’s like they’ve planned it. The second that Kuroo finishes the word open, Tsukishima starts fucking into you faster, holding you in place by your hips as he thrusts so deep inside of you. He lets you feel his entire length slide in and out of your hole, not sacrificing anything for how fast he’s getting.
You can barely part your lips before Kuroo’s head is between them. He pushes his hips forward, spreading your lips with his girth and your mouth feels so full so quickly. You weren’t a stranger to Kuroo fucking your throat. You both loved it. But there was something so different about it when you could feel another cock ramming in and out of you.
He pushes into your mouth slowly, your jaw opening as wide as it needs to compensate for how thick he was. You can feel the underside of his cock slide against your tongue, the head driving into the back of your throat, gently prodding at it before withdrawing.
It’s harsher this time, the thrust inside of your mouth. You can feel the spit coming from the back of your throat and coating him as he messily fucks your mouth, your lips stretching around him. His head rams against the back wall so rough that you gag violently. You can feel Kuroo stroking the sides of your face, his hands migrating down to your throat as he massages his thumb into your airway.
He pushes his cock as deep as it can go, your nose against his hip, but he doesn’t pull back this time. He just keeps it there, blocking any air that begs to come through. He reaches down, plugging your nose so that there’s absolutely no chance of you getting any oxygen. You don’t know what to concentrate on as your head feels lighter.
Tsukishima’s thrusts into you haven’t stopped, have only gotten more ruthless as he watches Kuroo abuse your throat. He’s so deep inside of you that you feel like you can feel him in your stomach, but the longer that Kuroo holds his cock in your mouth, the less you can feel it. Your eyes are shut tightly because you can’t see straight anyways, and your head hurts, and you’re opening and closing your fists because you’re starting to not be able to feel them.
“Switch with me, Tsukishima,” Kuroo says, pulling out of your mouth right before you would have pushed him off.
He moves so quickly, Kuroo, to get between your legs, and when he’s positioned there, he doesn’t hesitate for a second. He slides inside of you, grunting at how tight you are around him. He’s not as deep as Tsukishima was, but you can feel how much he’s stretching you already. “Fuck, Kuroo, I’m so fucking full, fuck,” you groan.
He fucks your tight hole faster than your throat, harsher than your throat. He’s being relentless, knowing that he’s the one that wants to make you come for the first time. He wants to be the one to feel you tighten, to ride your high with you.
But not yet. You focus on your Tsukishima’s cock in front of you, capturing his head between your lips and then sliding them down his length, taking him inside of your mouth and then as deep down your throat as you can manage, your fist stroking anything you can’t reach. You concentrate on how he tastes, the noises that escape him. You do everything in your power to ignore what’s going on between your legs, on the mess that Kuroo’s making of you, because if you thought about it, even for a second, you’d be coming all over him.
You concentrate on how your tongue swirls around the head and how the tip fits so perfectly in the slit. You concentrate on how your body twists so that you can massage his balls with your other hand while still stroking the rest of his cock steadily, building speed as you feel his balls tighten. You let his head glide against the back of your tongue, swallowing around him, letting your throat massage the length.
It doesn’t take much more of this meticulous care that you’re giving Tsukishima’s cock or the sight of your entire body bouncing from the force of Kuroo’s thrusts for Tsukishima to come down your throat. He grabs hold of your hair, moving your face at the exact speed that he needs as he uses your mouth just like Kuroo did.
You feel his cock pulse between your lips, your mouth a tight ring around him. It coats your tongue, bitter and warm, and you know that Kuroo is probably so jealous right now. Tsukishima doesn’t stop moving his hips, pushing the cum deeper into your mouth. “Will you swallow for me?” he asks, the first thing he’s asked of you all night. How could you deny that?
You don’t remove his cock from your mouth, you swallow around his length just like you did before. He groans at the feeling of your throat tightening around his sensitive cock, but he doesn’t move. You hollow your cheeks as you pull off of him, sucking any last drop.
It all catches up with you the second that Tsukishima’s cock leaves your mouth. You barely have time to swallow the cum that’s left in your mouth before you’re struggling to control your orgasm. You were working so hard to ignore it before, but you can’t now, the feeling of him fucking into you, still stretching you apart somehow.
Kuroo rests his fingertips on your stomach, his thumb flicking your clit exactly how he knows you like it. You can see how insistent he is on pushing you to your limits and as much as you want to curse at him for testing you, you just don’t have the mind to. It feels so good. He’s making you feel so good, a string of curses and his name flowing from your mouth as you try your hardest to channel the pleasure into something else.
“I’m going to come inside of you,” Kuroo says, slamming inside of you harder now. The sentence makes you swallow harshly. You’re so close, so fucking close from the repetitive motions and how thick Kuroo is and how full you feel. He can see it on your face, loves watching you lose control like he has so many times before. It’s his favorite part. He wants to watch you unravel from him, and only him. “Tsukishima, stop touching her,” he commands, so harshly that you feel the dominance of the demand. Tsukishima removes his hand from your shoulder that was lingering there from before.
“You’re so close,” Kuroo breathes, chest heaving as his grip tightens onto your waist, holding you in place as he pounds into you. “I know you’re so close and you’ve been so fucking good for me, waiting, holding off on coming, but I’m going to break you now.” A whimper falls from your lips. You feel so conflicted. You want to just let go, but you know that you have to try harder than you ever have.
“Try to hold it for me, baby, but I’m going to break you. I’m going to come so deep inside of you, and I’m going to fucking break you,” he spits, a look of determination now on his face.
His cock is ramming in and out of you, knocking the breath out of your lungs as soon as it enters, the sound echoing around the room and back at you, definitely not helping the vulgarity of the situation or your determination. Your eyelids close tightly, trying to find some sort of grounds, anything to concentrate on instead of how crude and how good Kuroo looks over top of you.
“Open your eyes, baby, look at me. Look at me,” he coaxes, his hands moving from your hips to your chest, dragging them down your body leisurely, letting you feel the pressure and contact on every part of you. You listen to him, opening your eyes just in time to see him licking his lips. His gaze isn’t on yours, but rather, on you, scanning and staring, and somehow that’s worse.
“I’m going to come inside you,” he repeats, “so fucking deep. I’m so close.”
“I-,” you start, interrupted by the abrupt slam of his hips against you, “I can’t hold it, Kuroo,” you admit, shaking your head, eyes watering, core tightening.
“No?” he asks, and you know that he’s patronizing you, and you just can’t bring yourself to care. You shake your head harder, the tears dripping down your cheeks.
“Can’t,” you mutter. “Feels too good.”
“Fuck,” he says under his breath. He comes first, draining inside of you so deep that you’re convinced it’ll never come out. You can feel his cock twitching with every stream, can feel him still as he takes in his own orgasm, but then he starts to move again. He’s no longer focused on his own pleasure, on taking the time to savor the feeling of his cock buried deep inside you, painting your insides.
He pulls out of you almost completely and fucks back into you even harsher than before. You were completely ready to come on his cock solely from the depth and the pulsing and how full you were feeling, but he’s regaining the momentum that he lost for only a moment. In fact, it’s faster now, more brutal, intent on doing exactly as he said, breaking you, not just making you orgasm, but absolutely destroying you.
His name is the only thing on your mind, the only word that you know at this point, and you can’t stop saying it, mushed together in a string of incoherence, getting louder and louder until you’re screaming.
The orgasm takes you harder than it ever has. Your core cramps, your chest rising off of the table, folding into your knees, your forehead colliding with Kuroo’s chest, resting there for only a moment before you violently fall back into the table. Tsukishima’s there to catch you, his hand placed gently under your head as you crash into it. In any other scenario, you’d feel bad, but you’re quite positive that you couldn’t feel any ounce of bad right now, no matter what happened.
Your body is overcome by pleasure, spreading out your entire being, electrifying everything inside of you and out. Your skin feels like it’s on fire and your hands are closed into fists so tight that you can feel the marks your nails are leaving. Your legs are shaking so violently that even Kuroo’s strong hold can’t stop them. And at some point, your screams for Kuroo turn into high-pitched nonsense and then into silent sobbing.
You know that you had to have been breathing, it lasted far too long for you to go without air, but when you regain control, when your body starts to calm down, and the feelings all subside, you can’t see straight, can’t breathe right. Your mouth is open, gasping for air and expelling it just as quickly and severely. You don’t know what you look like right now and you’re not sure you want to know.
You close your eyes, your entire body sensitive to even the tiniest breeze, and even more sensitive to the fingers in your hair, stroking and petting as you regain composure, and the dull nails scraping against the insides of your thighs, but not far enough to make you convulse again.
You move to sit up. Your core is on fire, but you need to feel some sort of control. You don’t get very far. Kuroo’s hand immediately braces your shoulder, “I’m not done.”
Your mind still feels foggy. You’re barely able to understand exactly what he means. He moves you back to the center of the table, gently, slowly, but the touch still makes your skin feel hot. “That was only the first part, remember?” he asks, spreading your legs apart so slightly, your thighs still touching. “The rest of the theory was about you crumbling away so quickly until you had absolutely no resolve left. That’s the more fun part.”
Even with the pleasure still taking over your brain, you understand. You hear each word and only now do you feel the implications of them for real. Your body already feels exhausted, spent, so tired, and he wants to put you through even more.
He walks over the table, using tissues to clean himself up before putting his pants back on, letting you recover for a little bit longer. He grasps one of the toys in his hand, the wand, and you’re already feeling your resolve slip away.
He spreads your lips apart. “Can I trust you not to move or should I strap it in place?” he asks before pushing the head directly into your clit, a gasp escaping you as your back rises off of the table. It’s not on, but the pressure of something against your sensitive clit makes you flinch.
“Understood,” he replies to your reaction. “Tsukishima, the belt,” he motions his head towards the table behind him. Tsukishima moves quickly, grabbing the leather strap from the table and snaking it under your thighs. Kuroo moves the wand carefully, lying it in between your closed thighs, your lips wrapped around the head which is pushed into your clit, covering the entirety of it. “Tighten it,” Kuroo commands.
You’ve never seen Tsukishima listen so well without a fight to anyone, especially Kuroo, but there was something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place, an emotion floating between eagerness and inquisition. Your stare is trained on his fingers as they position the belt over the top of the handle and tighten the strap so that neither your thighs nor the wand can move at all.
“Are you ready to test my theory?” Kuroo asks, standing next to your head, stroking your hair gently as he waits for your reply, a low, confident, hum. “Great. Turn it on, Tsukishima, slow.”
The wand presses into your clit harder as Tsukishima pushes the dial forward. You feel the click first, the signifier that it’s on, and then you feel the vibration. It’s low and weak, but enough to make you jolt at the feeling. If it wasn’t strapped to your thighs, the wand would already be out of place.
“How does that feel? Can you hold it?” Kuroo asks, his hands moving from your hair, grasping onto your shoulders. You hum again, but it’s not in affirmation or denial this time. It’s just a sound, a reply without intent, because honestly, you’re not sure. The vibration is weak against your clit and yet as the seconds tick by, despite the fact that Tsukishima hasn’t touched it at all, it feels like it’s getting stronger, like it’s affecting you more.
Kuroo’s hands move, sliding down your neck and over your collarbones as he rubs them over your chest. His thumbs brush over your nipples, purposefully. The pleasure from your chest spreads throughout you, overlapping the pleasure of the vibrations and you feel almost pathetic from how close you already are.
Kuroo rubs your nipples between his fingers, harshly, rolling them in between the pads repetitively. You arch your back as much as you can, pushing your chest into Kuroo’s grasp, showing him how desperate you’re feeling without saying anything. He listens to your physical beg, uses his whole hand to massage your chest, thumbs still skimming over your hard nipples as his fingers dig into your skin.
The vibrations don’t get stronger, but the pressure does. Tsukishima pushes the head of the wand into your clit harder and it’s getting almost impossible to stay still or to stay quiet. “Kuroo, I- I’m close,” you mumble through half-closed lips.
“Already? That’s great,” he says, stopping just short of a laugh. He continues, “I’m not going to turn it up. I’m just going to let you come from the lowest setting.”
The orgasm reaches you so much softer this time. The build-up is so slow, so gradual, and so are the effects that it has on you. You can feel yourself flood. You roll your hips into the vibrations as much as you can. It’s not breath-taking or life-changing like the one you had witnessed just minutes ago, but your body feels warm.
It only takes you a few beats to catch your breath again, but the wand is still on, moving against your sensitive clit, and Tsukishima reaches down and rolls the dial. The vibrations intensify and the embarrassment of how little it took you to come last time is nothing in comparison to now.
It takes so little for your chest to rise and fall dramatically, the airflow matching the quickening of your pulse and the closeness of another orgasm. “More,” Kuroo says, but it’s not to you. He’s looking directly at Tsukishima. He watches how far he pushes the dial, how much stronger the vibrations come. “Good.”
“I’m- I’m-,” you stutter, not able to say anything else as your eyes close quickly. The orgasm hitting you again, faster and more abrupt this time.
“Fuck,” you whine. You don’t have to tell him. He knows. He can see the way he’s wrecking you with each continuous orgasm. He strokes your jaw, pushes the hair out of your face, wipes the sweat off of your forehead.
“I know, baby, I know. It’s okay,” he coos.
It pushes you over the edge, the extra touch and his words. It’s more intense this time, the feeling that washes over you. It’s not as extreme as your first one, but it’s getting there. You lift your knees off of the table, the wand pressing harder between your legs as you rock against it.
“Look at you,” Kuroo gushes, watching in awe, “Even strapped together, you’re still squirming to make yourself come.” He shakes his head, standing up straight. “Well then, do it. Make yourself come again,” he orders.
You don’t move at first, not exactly sure if he’s serious or just taunting you, but then you see the look of expectancy in his eyes. You slowly bring your knees into your chest again, circling your hips so that the head moves against your clit in a repetitive path. It doesn’t take long for that, coupled with the continuous, almost abusive vibrations to bring you there.
“That’s it. Make yourself come. Move your hips just like that,” he mutters, staring down at your every move. He acts like it’s completely up to you, as if the wand between your legs wasn’t put there by his hands, as if the way you’re moving and grinding isn’t specifically for his eyes, because of his words. “Come for me, again.”
And you listen, not intentionally, just because your body wants to do whatever he wants it to do. You hug your legs, arch your back, driving the wand as harshly against your clit as it can be. You rest your forehead against your knees, moaning into the small space you’ve created, muffled by your own skin and limbs.
As soon as it’s finished, you slowly relax, letting your legs uncurl, the backs of them lying flat against the table once again. You brace yourself on your elbows first before lowering your back as well until you’ve returned to your original position. The vibrations aren’t stopping. You don’t even have time to catch your breath.
Kuroo moves to your side, standing directly across from Tsukishima, and places both of his hands on your legs, holding them down, thighs pushed roughly against the table so that you can’t move at all. You can’t spread your legs or lift them. Any amount of small control you had seconds ago is now completely gone. The only thing you can do is lie there and submit.
It’s Kuroo, this time, that pushes the dial, stretching his finger while keeping his hold on you in place. He lets his finger rest against the wand, feeling the muted vibrations that are coming from the handle. For some reason, knowing that Kuroo’s the one in control again, that he’s the one towering over you and watching you convulse under his touch, brings you closer than the vibrations do.
“Kuroo,” you whimper, his name falling off of your tongue so easily considering that it’s the only thing on your mind. You don’t know whether to beg for more or to concede, welcoming defeat. “Kuroo,” you repeat, begging, but still not sure for what.
“What, baby? Do you want it higher?” he asks, finger moving to the dial again, but not pushing it until he sees your reaction.
You’re nodding, on instinct, with pure need, or just to make him proud, you’re not sure. He smiles at you, “Good girl.” And now you’re sure.
He pushes the dial until the vibrations are so strong that it almost hurts, and yet, the dial doesn’t click again or hit a barrier. Your stomach is in knots just from the contact of the head against you. You regret asking him to turn it up. It barely feels good anymore, the constant, intense buzzing between your legs, but the stimulation is still pushing you towards an orgasm that you’re not sure you can handle anymore.
When you come, the good is good. It might have even felt better than the first time. Though, it doesn’t matter much, because it lasts for mere seconds. Settling in behind it is just the most intense feeling you’ve ever experienced. It doesn’t hurt, necessarily, but it definitely didn’t feel good. It almost felt like your entire body was cramping. You wanted to convulse with the motions, feel each wave as it barrelled through you, but you couldn’t move, held down by strong hands. And when it finally fled, the only thing you could feel was how sensitive you were.
But the vibration didn’t stop. No one moved to turn it off, not even with your whining and whimpering, so you opened your mouth, letting your pleas fall out. “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I’m so sensitive, Kuroo. I can’t,” you ramble, shaking your head against the table.
“You can, you can. You know the system, right? You know what you have to say for me to stop, right?” Kuroo asks.
You nod, eyes shut tightly. You didn’t need him to stop. You could handle it, but the words still pour from you. “I know. I know, but I can’t, I can’t.”
“Tell me. Tell me you know what you have to say, okay?” he tries again. You can’t see the look in his eyes or the concern on his face, barely pick up on the tone of his voice and how serious it sounds. He knows that this is the first time you’ve done something like this and wants to make sure you’re safe.
“Yes, fuck, I know what I have to say, yes. I know. I don’t need you to stop,” you say and then correct yourself, “I don’t want you to stop. I just, I’m so sensitive. I can feel everything so much and I’m so sensitive, Kuroo,” you babble.
“I know, I know. You’re doing so good,” Kuroo says to you, and then he talks over top of you, directed at Tsukishima, “Turn it up.” The confirmation gives him what he needs to push you even further.
You’re so focused on the imminent, unbearable sensation, that you don’t even see Kuroo turn on the light. You feel it before anything else, the warmth that the light creates and how quickly it becomes excruciating. Sweat drips down your forehead, glides past your temples, forms on your stomach, and under your thighs, letting you slide against the table. It just makes everything so much more intense.
And then you feel the click of the dial, the signifier that it’s up as high as it goes, and you’re cursing so many things that have played a hand in this. You’re cursing the company that made the wand and Kuroo for being so sadistic and Tsukishima for helping him and yourself for agreeing to this. You’re trying to move your mind anywhere other than how hard the wand is vibrating against you.
You know that you’re talking, you think that you’re talking. Your mouth is open and it feels like words are coming out, but you don’t know what you’re saying and you can’t hear them. Tears are streaming down your face, steadily, not overwhelmingly. Someone’s, you’re not sure whose, and it doesn’t really matter at this point, touches you, moves to stroke your arm. You can hear yourself now as you bark, “Don’t touch me,” regaining enough control of yourself and your voice to add a softer, “please” onto the end.
You lay there on the table, your body feeling excessively hot in every facet, with a buzzing between your legs that if it was any lower wouldn’t even be affecting you right now because you feel so numb. Everything is heightened. You can feel everything. The light, the air, the warmth, the breath on either side of you, the way that the breath is cool against your skin, the way that the breath is moving, slowly, blowing onto your shoulder and neck and stomach. The contrast of the stimuli makes you feel some sort of balance, some sort of ground.
Your orgasm takes you by surprise. You could feel everything at once, but you couldn’t feel the sensation approaching. You’re positive that you’re screaming because there’s no way you can’t be. Your throat feels sore and the tears haven’t stopped and you reach your arm out, grabbing onto whatever you find first, squeezing into it so hard, your fingernails digging, digging, digging until your hand is shaking so hard that you can’t manage to control it anymore.
It’s so much. It’s so much. It’s almost too much. The second that you’re off of this short high, you know that the sobbing will come. You can feel the tears and the tightness in your throat. You can see yellow flashing in your head. You’re not at your limit. You’re not hurt, but if they don’t slow down, you’re going to be very quickly. The word is traveling up your throat, graces your tongue, but doesn’t get the chance to leave your lips.
The vibration stops.
“You’re done” is the first thing that you hear when you regain awareness. Kuroo repeats it again, “You’re done, baby, you’re done. Can I touch you? Is that okay?”
You nod because, despite the fact that you’re trembling, that every inch of your skin feels like it’s on fire, that’s really all you want right now. The flinch still comes when he touches you, rests his hand on your cheek, so he hesitates. If you had more energy, you’d lift your own and put it on top of his.
“You did so well. You did so well,” he repeats, leaning in closer to you and rubbing his thumb against your cheekbone. “God, you did so good.” You can’t respond, but you hope that he knows how much that means to you.
He lets you lay there, not moving you or rushing you, but just letting you recuperate as long as you need to. The second that you’re able, you talk, “Tsukishima, can you unstrap my thighs?” It’s more of a mumble than a strong sentence, but he gets the point, working just as slow and methodical as before, perhaps more so now. You can barely feel him when he brushes against your skin, numb now from the consistent vibrations.
Without the constraint on your thighs and the object between your legs, you automatically feel like you can breathe easier now. “And the light,” you mumble. It’s not a question, but it doesn’t need to be. The light is turned off in a second, the heat fading quickly without the intensive brightness. You hum, now, content with the environment you’re in and the company you’re with.
“I know you probably want to fall asleep right here, but we should get you into bed,” Kuroo mentions, his hand still in the same place against your skin.
“Kuroo, I don’t think I could move right now if I tried. My legs are completely numb,” you say, “Literally if the house caught on fire, I would die here. There’s no way I could even stand right now.”
He lets out a breathy laugh. “You most certainly would not. I would save you.”
Your eyes are closed softly, but you still roll them, and you hope he notices. “My hero.”
“Come on, I’ll carry you. You can’t recover correctly from all of that if you’re in this room on this table, okay?” he asks.
There aren’t many things you would deny Kuroo of right now, with his voice as sweet as it is and his touch as soft as it is, and carrying you into his room to be more comfortable is definitely not one of them. Your eyelids flutter open and you’re finally able to see Kuroo looking down at you and Tsukishima watching the two of you.
“Okay,” you agree.
“Can you put your arms around my neck?” he asks, leaning down and snaking his arms under your knees and your back.
“Fire, Kuroo, remember, fire,” you reiterate, “No, I could not crawl myself out of this building.”
“You won’t have to bear any weight. It’s just for support.”
You oblige, using all of your energy to lift your arms and lock them around his neck. They hang lazily and you know that if he so much as moves you in the wrong way, they will fall heavily by your sides. His steps are careful, making sure that they’re not too fast or too harsh and you’re so grateful for it.
Tsukishima pushes open the door to his room and Kuroo carefully steps inside, careful not to bump you into the doorway. He lays you down in the center of his bed so softly that you can barely differentiate being in the air and surrounded by mattress. “There’s water on the bedside table that you definitely need to drink,” Kuroo mentions. “And do you want the TV on or the fan?”
“No, I’m okay. This is nice, I think. I do want a t-shirt, though,” you say, not wanting to be this exposed anymore.
“Yours or mine?” he asks, already halfway to his dresser.
“Yours,” you call out, “something really baggy.”
He grabs a shirt from his drawer, walking back over, and handing it to you. You accept it graciously, putting it on over your head slowly, the clean fabric against your skin one of the only sensations that feel acceptable at the moment. “Thank you.”
“Well, you should get some rest, okay?” he says, leaning over and kissing your forehead. “Hydrate first, though. I’ll be in the living room if you need anything at all.”
You nod, finally relaxing. The bed is so comfortable compared to the harshness of the metal that you were lying on before. It melds against your body so perfectly, conforms to every curve, but you can’t even think about falling asleep. Your mind is still racing, wandering, active, despite the exhaustion you’re feeling so heavily.
“Wait,” you say with the last ounce of strength you have. Both of them stop in place, Tsukishima already halfway out the door. They’re looking at you expectantly, waiting for whatever you have to say or request, but you can’t get it out. It feels weird, almost, that after everything that just happened you would feel uncomfortable saying anything at all to them.
“Do you need something?” Kuroo asks, already moving back towards you.
“I-,” you start, face feeling hot at such a silly request, “I don’t really want to be alone right now.” You’re not sure if you’re imagining it or if Kuroo really does ease when you say it.
“You want us to lay with you?” Kuroo asks, closing the gap, already by your side again.
“I don’t have to if you guys want to be alone,” Tsukishima says, his voice so small it almost goes unnoticed.
You shake your head, “I’d like if you’d stay.”
You’re positive that Tsukishima doesn’t mean to show the look of shock on his face, but he does. You feel the bed sink on one side as Tsukishima walks back into the room and by your side. You flip over towards Kuroo who holds the glass of water out in front of him. “Water first,” he says. You listen, taking it in your hands as well as you can for how spent your muscles still are. The bed behind you shifts, a hesitant hand rubbing the small of your back.
It takes a few moments for you all to get comfortable, to get into positions that fit, to meld together as perfectly as you do, but when you do, you never want to move again. Tsukishima’s pressed up against your back, his hand gently on your hip. Your head is pressed against Kuroo’s chest, listening to his heartbeat and timing your breathing with it.
The room is quiet and your mind is still racing, but with the company in the room, you feel so content. “Thanks for taking care of me,” you say to both of them.
“I said we would, didn’t I?” Kuroo responds, leaning down to kiss the top of your head.
“I mean, that’s not exactly what I thought you meant,” you murmured.
Tsukishima doesn’t reply, just rubs the bit of skin he has contact with. That’s enough for you. The three of you lie there in silence, syncing your breathing, only ever disturbing the peace with rustling of the sheets and clothes until Kuroo speaks again.
“You know, the scientific theory is based on the fact that your hypothesis is retestable and comparing the results to make sure that they’re in accordance with each other,” Kuroo says into the darkness.
“Tsukki, please hit him for me,” you say, knowing full well that if you weren’t the most exhausted you’ve ever been, you would have done it much more justice.
Tsukishima reaches over you and hits Kuroo’s shoulder so hard that you can feel the effects of it in his chest. You can’t help but laugh, and Kuroo does too, so lightly, and yet, you can feel it against your ear. You feel the safest you’ve ever felt in this moment alone.
“Give me a week,” you mutter.
Kuroo responds far too quickly and eagerly, “Yeah, I mean, of course, whatever you need.”
Part of you thinks that come a week, you’ll regret the words that just came out of your mouth. Another part of you realizes the exact place you’re in, the way Tsukishima is still softly rubbing your hip, and the way Kuroo’s laughter is still taking over your mind. That part of you feels the fabric of their clothing and your own and the sheets beneath you. That part of you knows that even when you were as pushed as you were, you felt safe. That part of you knows that they know you better than you know yourself.
That part of you knows that you could never pass up an opportunity to give up control, to listen to these men and trust them completely. You could never regret that.
#hq smut#tsukishima x reader#tsukishima smut#kuroo smut#kuroo x reader#haikyuu smut#hq x reader#haikyuu x reader#tsukishima kei x reader#kuroo tetsuro x reader#kuroo x tsukishima x reader#toriwritesshit
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Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 30
MASTAPOST
huge thanks to brekitten again for betaing uwu
Despite Damian complaining of the smell, Danny personally thought his new outfit was very comfortable, at least compared to the alternatives. At some points their little nature walk along the road brought them close to the river they’d swum up to get to the locks. They could’ve easily jumped in if they wanted, but the presence of GiW boats in a narrow passage made it a very unappetising option.
They also didn’t know what his human form looked like, but they did know about siren human forms in general. Once they realised the canal itself was empty, they would very likely transition into hunting him on land. Then there would be problems.
Danny picked up the pace. Jogging was easy when you could ice over your overheating muscles from the inside, a technique that had fascinated and disgusted his friends. To their right, the remains of the canal shipyards, and to their left, a large hill covered in trees and foliage overlooked the water. Wind rustled through the leaves and blew through his clothes. Ah, to be clothed at last. What a luxury.
As they walked, the boys made idle commentary on the scenery, including sardonic comments at the presence of a golf club on the hill.
“I should hope they do not punt any balls into the water.”
“I dunno. Could be a fun challenge. Imagine doing a hole in one across the canal!”
The shade was nice too. Even the air felt cooler underneath the trees. As they rounded the corner of the mountain, their next issue made itself known.
A car drove past them, only to stop and slow down at a check point manned by, who else, the GiW. At some point Danny was seriously questioning the Panamanian government. If he were in charge, he would definitely not let the US government just run roughshod over his country’s infrastructure. That being said, it probably wasn’t the first time the government fucked things up in South America, as Sam’s many rants had led him to learning.
Danny ran his finger along Damian’s forearm, earning a hiss from the kid. He slathered the mucus over his ear, turning it into its siren form.
“Shush. Lemme listen.”
He closed his eyes and concentrated. “Sorry ma’am. We’re with the US government. We’ll need to inspect your car for any siren contraband or smuggling. We’ll also have to test you for mind control.”
With that, another voice seemed to repeat the command in very apologetic Spanish. It seemed their translator was about as unhappy with the arrangement as the poor civilian.
“Tt. Amateurs.” Damian muttered.
Then came a very rapid series of what he believed was swearing from the driver, an older woman. Oh. He didn’t need his ears to notice the sandals smacking into the agents. Danny couldn’t help but laugh a little.
It wasn’t like the blockade would do anything! There was a whole-ass hill right beside him.
“How were these people ever a threat to us?” Damian muttered. He hissed at a stray branch jabbing into his ribs, batting it away.
“Probably all the money the government throws at them to buy weapons. From my parents.” Yeah it kinda said a lot that the only reason they were any issue at all were because of his parents.
Damian stiffened. If Danny weren’t holding him so close, he wouldn’t have noticed it.
Danny hiked into the forested hill. Great thing about clothes, Damian, is that they protect your very soft human skin from being sliced up by thorns and branches and other sharp shrubbery. “It’ll be fine. I’ve beaten these clowns a dozen times before.”
“With allies, and a healthy body. And in the water. Be wary.”
Danny grinned. “But I still have my powers!”
“Tut. Be wary. Triumphant pride precipitates a dizzying fall.”
“Hah! How many dictionaries did you consume to be able to say that?”
“Five. And I do not consume books, I read them, unlike you and your sullen species.”
“I am literally human right now. And I read plenty of books.” Comic books, in fact. But that addendum didn’t stop the (invisible) smirk on his face. Comics books are literature too! Even if the canon keeps getting ruined every few years.
Damian began another retort, only for the forest to fill with alarm blares. The sounds overlapped and pounded in Danny’s ears. “What happened!?”
He was in human form, they couldn’t detect- Wait. He slapped himself in the face. It was Damian. They’d detected Damian’s signature. Fuck.
“The forest covered up their smell. Dangit. The one time they weren’t wildly incompetent.”
His head snapped to the side, then he turned around. Nobody yet. Damian growled. “We need to get moving.”
“You can say that again.”
Danny wove through the branches amidst rising shouts, and alarms that continued to sound. He caught a glint on the side of a tree. One ice spear was all it took to take out a sensor. More still screamed.
“Behind you!”
Danny dove to the floor. A shot whizzed past his head. His body creased leaves and pressed the dirt.
“There’s the specimen! Take it down!”
Several more guns whined. Danny rolled to the side. He got up in seconds. The dirt exploded behind him. Three more shots fired into a tree, causing it to creak and groan.
Damian squeezed his arm. “Throw me,” he whispered.
Danny’s face went slack. “What?!”
“There are only two of them. They do not know my identity, and they have weapons.”
Yeah them having weapons was a very good reason not to throw you at the racist government agents, Damian! “You’re crazy.”
“The Atlanteans underestimated me similarly. Now hurry!”
Another two agents flanked them on the other side. Despite his reservations, Danny was forced to admit the kid had a point. “Fine, but be careful!”
Danny stepped back. He threw his arms over his shoulders, Damian’s waist held tightly. With all his strength, he hurled him like the screaming ball of fury and spite that he was. The boy flashed into visibility. The agents behind him screamed girlishly, a fact that he wished he could have recorded.
Instead he squared his shoulders at the two in front of him. It was G from earlier and another guy. Hello misplaced aggression. The goons cried out, preparing to fire on Damian. While the kid was still on top of their friends’ faces!? Well, friendly fire never stopped them. Danny flicked two beams. One froze the trigger on G’s gun solid, scoring half his hand as a bonus. The other got his friend’s gun muzzle. The agent pulled the trigger anyway, and was rewarded by scalding hot metal shards to the face for his troubles.
Danny’s eyes glowed steely black and blue. He fired off another salvo. His attacks bound their wrists and feet to the ground. At the same time, his nose tickled with a coppery odour. The screams of the men behind him reduced to pained sobbing.
“I am returning,” Damian declared. Danny had about half a second between that warning and the kid slamming onto his back, arms wrapping around his neck again. The extra weight almost knocked him off his feet.
“What the heck are you carrying?!”
The skin around his ears shivered. A gun charged right over his shoulder. Damian nailed a reinforcing agent in the shoulder. “A new acquisition. Now move!”
Only Damian. Only Damian.
So the stealthy approach wasn’t working out amazingly. By the time Danny had cleared the forest, and lost his pursuers, there were about a dozen men lying on the dirt in various states of pain. Danny jogged past the now-unmanned barrier, wondering if there was really any point to sneaking around.
Damian panted over his shoulder. They needed to stop for another water break. His friend wouldn’t last long without one. And he was feeling the fatigue of keeping his powers up already. He’d need another snack soon.
“We cannot afford another confrontation. It was lucky we had the advantage in terrain, and they squandered their numbers by walking in one by one. The next fight may not be as fortunate.”
It was an apt time to say that, seeing as their presence had definitely not gone unnoticed.
A large white truck barreled through the road, giving Danny an honest to god heart attack. He dashed behind an electric post without thinking. Luckily it hadn’t noticed him, but the road ahead reeked of further agents. He wouldn’t be surprised if there were checkpoints along every road and intersection from here to the beach.
“Like seriously. There’s no way Panamanian government could be happy with this. I’m not going crazy, right?”
“This will likely be an international incident, especially if my plan is to go through.”
Danny suddenly felt rather uncomfortable. “What plan?”
“It is simply the most logical way to proceed. As I said, we do not have the resources to fight many more battles. At some point, we will be encircled, and either be captured or severely injured.”
“So what’s your plan, then?”
Damian laughed. It was not the joyful, innocent laughter of a kid his size, but rather a cackle fitting a demon, or some sadist coming up with creative ways to inflict pain on his victims. Danny got very, very worried.
“Wrench!” Dad called out. Jazz pulled one out of the toolbox and handed it over.
“Nope, wrong tool. I need the, uhh the thingamajig.” Without a beat lost, Jazz passed some fiendish contraption meant for measuring hydroplasm levels, name still pending.
“Thanks Jazziepants.”
For a man who’d been insistent on keeping her in bed or out of any hard work, and whom had been specifically instructed to do so regardless, her father’s willpower was very weak when subjected to Jazz’s arguments. That was what led her to sitting in the engine room with her father, watching him put the hydroplasm back into working levels. She felt a little bad about making her dad spend so much time, but what guilt she felt would have been outweighed a thousand-fold by the pain of seeing her brother in their parents’ grasps.
Now she needed to know the direction of his heart.
“Dad, are you ok?”
He shrugged. “I’m ok as ever, Jazzie.”
“You’ve been worrying.”
Her father yanked out a faulty wire. “What kinda dad wouldn’t be? When I was a kid, my grandpa Fenton told me one day, I’d be the man of my own house. I’d protect my wife and my kids from those gosh darn delinquents of the deep. Of course, I ended up finding a lovely wife who’d protect me just as much as I her, but,” He swallowed.
“It’s ok. I’m here for you, Dad. Is it something to do with the interrogation?”
“Jazzie, look, I don’t want you to worry.”
“But it’s bothering you, right?”
Her dad’s boots arced inwards, like he’d clenched his toes. “Our only lead was Phantom. That’s the whole point of this trip. But we got him, and he wouldn’t spill. And I didn’t know what to do.”
“Were you hurt?”
“No. Nobody got hurt. But your mother… I’m sorry, it’s not something you should be hearing.”
Her father’s voice went uncharacteristically serious. No! She didn’t need protecting. She needed information.
“Dad, you and mom have been dreaming of capturing a siren for years.”
Her father’s body went still for a moment. He quietly screwed in a bolt. “I know. It was nothing like I’d ever expected.”
“In a good way?”
“I thought he was gonna fight. Or throw snark at us like the fish felon he is. It was what our research told us what would happen. But it didn’t.”
She said nothing, her silence prompting her father to continue.
“Jazzie, he… cried. And suddenly I realised that Phantom looked like a kid. Like Danny’s age.”
“That young?” Jazz said with fake surprise. “Do you think he still could’ve done it?”
“I don’t know. But he must be involved, somehow. In any case, we’ll still have to pursue him.”
Jazz leaned in closer. Her father’s goggles were off, which gave her an unblocked view of his eyes. Just like her mother, they faltered with hidden speculation with doubt. The relief made her cry, almost. “There’s no guarantee, Dad,” she whispered.
Her father sat up from the creep. He stretched his arms out, and pulled her into an embrace. “I promise we’ll figure something out. Your brother’s got the might of the Fentons in him.”
‘Specimen Phantom is in disguise. Be on high alert. Nobody is above suspicion.’ Agent H hummed. That damned fish freak. Crawled its way out of the water the moment trouble hit. Now everyone was mobilising. Agent H shut off the radio, having heard enough.
Frankly, he’d had enough of this damned country and the heat. He’d been got by at least three mosquitoes already, and this brief respite in the truck was all he’d get until another six hours spent underneath the tropical sun, looking for a damn slippery siren.
He hoped Phantom would turn into fried fish before he did. Goddammit.
That was not to mention the freaking local police, who’d been harassing them all day about their tasks. Ignorant locals. How could they not notice the threat lurking right under their noses? Without the help of his organisation, the Canal would’ve been wrecked, then who’d have the final laugh? Definitely not Panama.
“Be on high alert, H.” Agent I said. “Specimen Phantom and its accomplice just took out squad A in the trees.”
H turned to her. “And why aren’t we assisting them?”
“Squad B’s taken care of it. We need to cut of the specimen’s escape, before it reaches the open ocean.”
H scoffed. “We have enough manpower, I. These sirens are smart enough to get around us. We need to hunt the specimen actively.”
“And you need to follow orders, Agent H. The local government’s only barely tolerating our presence as is. One wrong move and there will be hell to pay, do you understand?”
Agent H grumbled.
“Do you understand, Agent H?” Agent I ground out.
“Yes, ma’am. I-”
Agent H was unable to finish his sentence. He slammed the brakes. He and Agent I jerked forward in their seatbelts as the truck screeched to a halt in front of a gruesome sight. In the middle of the road, two wooden stakes were erected. Blood stained the road at the base of them. Strung up to the stakes were two familiar uniforms.
“Agent G! Agent F!” He cried out. Agent H tore off his seatbelt. He snatched his hydro gun and rushed out. His blood ran cold. How dare that- that- that monster!?
“Agent H! Get back here!” His superior ordered. He ignored her. He needed to-
Agent H was right in front of the wooden stakes when he realised his error. What looked like G’s soft brown skin and F’s paler tan from afar became patchy, holed. It was no human, but a kind of mocking imitation made from dried reeds and branches.
That meant- Shit.
Agent H had no time to react. Brilliant blue blasted him across the road. He struggled, cursed, tried to reach his communicator, but his efforts were for naught. The ice bound his wrists together like concrete. In the corner of his eye, he saw Agent I put up just a few more seconds of fight, before a barrage of hydro beams took her down too. That was their weapons!
Shame burned his skin hotter than the tropical sun. The dirty, evil sirens opened the door to the truck, invisibly. He could only watch helpless as a trapped rat as the truck kicked into full gear.
#dpxdc#danny fenton#damian wayne#dcxdp#merman#merboy#mermaid au#angst#jazz fenton#jack fenton#mer!danny#mer!damian
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I actually thought the next episode was the best one of the season. I liked that blitz finally fully apolgized for something hes done wrong, i liked that even though stolas was there he felt like an actual side character, and i liked that blitz had class conciousness(lol). Ialso kinda appriecated that they remebered some previous villians. I also appriecated fizzmodeus being a good rekationship but with as,odeus still having some condescendingness towards fizz (hopefully they’ll treat it as a flaw!) i also liked the blitzfizz moments and the fact fizz is surprisingly good disabled rep for a show where the main character said the r slur. Also the interesting character bit of striker finally working for a imp like he probably wants! I also like that hopefully blitz will get that asmodean crystal soon, and be free!
Stuff i didn’t like: the fact there’s literally no women in this episode, the fact they called striker a supremiscist just for him calling out blitz and fizz as class traitors, the total destruction of blitzstrike(sorry i caught a soft spot for it lol! And this episode convinced me even more viv REALLY REALLY hates most ships of blitz with anyone except soft uwu owlboi), the fact that theres no exploration of strikers thoughts and feeling about finally working for someone of the same class/species as him, the feeling i got that the writers probably wanted us to think fizz was right during the classism discussion(like, ‚oooh some rich people are good!’ Shut up fizz if your bf was a decent person he wouldnt own a factory. Lol)
I want to stress this last con especially, as it’s my most hated idea touted in the fandom and the show.
it also was especially gross how there was some implication that if stolas ‘truely loved blitz’ that stolases fetishization of both the lower class, blitz’s species, and blitz having different anatomy would all be ok. Thanks, viv: Being a classist chaser prick is totes fine! Just make sure to have romantic attraction about it!
Fuck off with that allo bullshit, man.
#helluva boss leaks#helluva boss critical#hb critical#spindlehorse critical#helluva critical#healluva boss spoilers#stolashater speaks
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i’ll never forget how intense the waiting time after Ozzie’s was, how hyped i got for the continuation of The Circus (i was actually open about the childhood friends thing back then, i used to be a huge fan of the Rachael Punk twitter person that always defends viv and i tried to keep an open mind about the retcon, i thought the critics were just dumb). the bar was so high and i wanted to see Ozzie’s finally pay off, and then my smile faded when Blitz said “my dick is good but not that good Moxx…”
this episode soured my relationship with the show and the “if you dont like stolitz youre homophobic” sentiment did not help. i had to accept that i waited a year expecting a payoff for such an awesome plot point and thought-provoking character dynamic, and was met with mediocrity that only appeals to shippers and literally no one else. i want to see that Patreon leak regarding Stolas struggling with delusions bcs thats what made me root for him to change and improve as a person, i saw myself in him. i genuinely think Viv was embarrassed at the problematic parts of the ship and backtracked awkwardly in s2 to make it a uwu misunderstanding that could be resolved with a talk, now theres the hospital thing that went nowhere, what the fuck is she doing
Mood, Anon.
Ozzie's was the first time in a while I felt that Helluva might actually turn out to be a good story after all. I genuinely thought it was supposed to be a parallel to Loo Loo Land, how Stolas blithely dragged his beloved daughter around a shitty crumbling theme park all day, ignoring her protests, too caught up in his own head to care how miserable she was until he found her crying in that apple cart and there was no ignoring it anymore.
Watching Stolas follow up all that with a self-pitying song about how Blitzo was the one who broke his heart and lied to him was like getting dashed with ice cold water. Seeing Stars -- which sees Stolas continuing to paw Blitzo sexually while also backtracking on Stolas's progress with Octavia -- was like getting dashed with more ice cold water, except the water is also pee.
I think the same thing, that Vivzie decided halfway through that she liked Stolas and Stolitz, was tired of that whole problematic unbalanced relationship thing from literally the entirety of season 1, and wanted to get down to the cutesy uwu hand holding. To acknowledge Stolas as a bad person who makes the choice to put in the work to be better would mean admitting that Stolas did something wrong, that people night be justified in not liking him, and Vivzie can't have that where her favorite characters are concerned.
If you're watching her shows, you will like Stolas as much as she does and you will agree that he's the best thing to ever happen to Blitzo, or you're a homophobe.
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if there's one good thing to come of constantly seeing antis and hate in the tsoa tags, it's that i've realized patroclus is a really unreliable narrator (which i knew already, i just finally figured out how to put it into words).
so when i search the tsoa tags, there's all these anti tsoa posts about how horrible and evil it is that miller depicted the two of them as 'soft uwu gay boys' (their words, not mine. i've seen this phrase in almost every hate post about the book), and like, that's fine, that's just one interpretation of their relationship (it's really not, actually. it's homophobia and a bit of sexism), but also, that's the whole point of the book.
we already know they were cutthroat soldiers that fought in a war. that was never up for debate. the whole point of tsoa is to show another perspective of their story, the perspective that shows that these soldiers were capable of loving and being loved. since this is what miller wanted to portray, obviously she showed them as softer and gentler than in the iliad. besides, if she had just gone off of the iliad exactly, it would just be another translation, not a retelling.
i saw a post a while ago that said tsoa is actually patroclus telling his side of achilles' story to thetis at the end so she would let him finally be at rest, and i really liked that (if i ever find the post, i'll link it [i found this one, but i don't think it's the one i'm thinking of]). but thetis knew all about how important they were to the war. what she didn't know was how her son could care, and create, and love, so that's the part of his story patroclus focused on, so, of course, he left stuff out and downplayed the violence and fighting.
and then, since it is in patroclus' perspective, he was eternally aware of his physical inferiority to achilles, and, again, that's not the story he wanted to tell. based on his narrations, he was deeply self-conscious, to the point where he felt that doing anything for himself felt like he was stealing or doing something wrong, and the only thing he was ever sure of was achilles' love for him, and even that took years to finally cement within him. he was never going to focus on his own achievements because he didn't think he had any. he was never going to focus on the things he did that achilles could also do since there was no point as achilles was always better than him.
and it wasn't out of jealousy. he literally said why should he be ashamed when achilles was better than everybody? agamemnon was the one that couldn't accept that
but, anyways, my point is that patroclus was never going to tell the whole story, and, really, he went through all of this for y'all to call him a 'soft uwu gay boy'? as if one the most respectful and healthy gay relationships i've ever read is too soft? because men aren't allowed to be soft? fuck you
#pro tsoa#tsoa#madeline miller#patrochilles#achilles#patroclus#tsoa analysis#thetis#unreliable narrator#agamemnon#the iliad
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I cant stress enough how much bi lesbians and bi lesbian discourse flared up my SO-ocd, I was fine for a few months and then I returned to this side of tumblr and I get reminded of them. One of my worst fears is that I am somehow a “bi lesbian” or if after all these years of questioning and finally coming to the conclusion that I’m a lesbian I’ll turn out to be straight in the end. Idk if I should have stayed on the art side of tumblr but where else do I find other lesbians??? I wish I could go back to when I didn’t know “bi lesbians” existed it was easier back then. Apparently the only thing to make intrusive thoughts subside is to be like “so what if I’m not a lesbian, who cares” but I cant do that. I wanna go back to when I didn’t know there were people who deliberately fake being gay because that’s also one of my fears,, even though when I realized I was a lesbian it felt like I REALIZED it rather than chose it
(this is gonna be long but it's very important to talk about so just a heads up on that)
i am so so sorry to hear this, and im infuriated that these fucking creeps in the "community" have caused not only so much blatant lesbophobia to spread but also have caused so much harm to lesbians.
i am right with you because ive been through, and still go through sometimes, what you're experiencing. its terrifying that all this bullshit can snowball and make any doubts we lesbians already have from living in this heterosexual patriarchal society double and multiply even more viciously.
my internalised lesbophobia has worsened also. i doubt myself alot and more often thanks to all this bs. its... i dont even have words to express how damaging lesbophobia, especially from within the "community", is.
it causes harm and trauma and pain and suffering for lesbians, but all these stupid juvenile shits just think it doesnt matter because "uwu theyre so kweer and cool now"
it sucks... but i need you to know it is not your fault that you feel this way.
no matter what anyone inside or outside the community says, and no matter what your spiralling thoughts might make you believe as a result of lesbophobia inside and outside the community, you are not straight, you are not a "bi lesbian", you are not bisexual. you are a lesbian.
i know it is so so hard to just say but i promise you, nothing they say will ever ever change the reality of your lesbianism. i promise you.
it hurts, and its beyond infuriating to have to share space with these disrespectful bastards who coopt our lived experience for a moment of attempted self-actualisation, and that pain deserves to be acknowledged and soothed, not pushed away.
i wish i could give you a hug rn honestly because this shit just fucking sucks. i too wish i could go back to the time when these idiots werent even a concept in my mind or memory, but if there is any advice i can give you to help ease the torment of this constant barrage, it is this:
❤️🧡🤍🩷💖
1) know, for a fact, that nothing anyone, and i mean ANYONE says and no matter how loud they say it, will ever change the lived and exact reality of your innate sexuality.
nothing will ever magic away your lesbianism. it is wired into you, it IS you, a very central part of your personhood. that is not something that any words, especially words shat out of the asshole of a dickhead child on the internet, can ever change.
im not disregarding the hurt, im just reminding you that who you are, who you truly are, cannot change because of the words that hurt. especially because you know deep down that those words are not true.
because being a lesbian is who you are. it is not a quota to reach, or what you do, it is who we are. innately. you know where your natural attactions lie, what genders draw your attraction exclusively and without effort. you know that deep down. we are literally born this way. words cannot change that.
❤️🧡🤍🩷💖
2) the best thing to do whenever you accidentally glimpse said bullshit is to block them and focus on uplifting the actual lesbian community.
lesbians community is such an integral lifeline, i cannot emphasise the sheer importance of enough.
these idiots are, after all, idiots and do not deserve your energy, your time or your pain. they will never matter, and the truth is, they only exist on the internet among weirdos who have no sense of self so seek it by stealing bits and pieces from other peoples personal experience and identity.
they are and always will be inauthentic, unlike you.
❤️🧡🤍🩷💖
3) find and focus on the joy of your lesbianism individually and in lesbian community with other lesbians.
We lesbians are blessed to experience the best kind of human life possible: lesbianism.
our sexuality is bold and strong and proud and beautiful and brilliant and effervescent. it is perfect and brave and worthy of honor and praise and celebration and respect.
our community of lesbians is just as exquisite as we are individually. we are diverse and divine. every butch, femme, stud, stone, masc and feminine lesbian; every trans woman, transmasc, transfem and nonbinary lesbian; every black and brown and lesbian of color; every aromantic, asexual, aroace, non-partnering and polyamourous lesbian; every lesbian of every age and race is so overflown with wisdom and joy and love and brilliance. there is nothing more empowering as a lesbian and nothing that strengthens lesbian pride more than being in a community of lesbians and finding joy in ourselves through each other.
and im not just saying this to be mushy. i mean it. lesbians are divine, and thus, you are also divine.
you are perfect as a lesbian because you ARE a lesbian. you are incredible and intelligent and brilliant and brave.
nothing will change the brilliance of who you are, and in everything you are as a lesbian, you have a universe of lesbians who have been, who are and who will be, all of whom have not only been through the same and similar demeaning bs from the same kind of lesbophobic idiots, but they fought it back and survived and lived and thrived as lesbians.
you are just as strong as every lesbian who has been and is. and you are not alone. i promise you.
i am slowly rebuilding the community of lesbians on this blog that i had on my old one, but i promise you, on my blog you are safe. i swear, i will always always put lesbians first here, and that includes you. i will always defend and support and celebrate lesbians first here, and here you will find many other lesbians who will do the same.
❤️🧡🤍🩷💖
i know this was long, im sorry about that but i just need you to know that i see and feel your pain with you, and i need you to know that you arent going through it alone, and you are not alone.
we lesbians have always stuck together to defend and fight for one another, we have always survived, we have always been here, and we always will be.
i hope this reassures you in some way, and know you're always welcome and safe here ❤️🧡🤍🩷💖
#asks#lesbophobia#lgbtq#anti bi lesbian#lesbian#lesbian community#lesbianism#internalised lesbophobia#lesbian pride#lesbian positivity#proud lesbian#lesbian safe#lesbian blog#butch lesbian#femme lesbian#stud lesbian#stone lesbian#trans lesbian#transmasc lesbian#transfem lesbian#nonbinary lesbian#black lesbian#brown lesbian#lesbian woc#lesbian poc#aro lesbian#ace lesbian#aroace lesbian#polyamourous lesbian#non partnering lesbian
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loving this influx of followers and interacts! <3 pls feel free to msg me and if anyone's interested and i can open up requests so i have an excuse to write more juicy content uwu
actually pls msg me i'm going to run out of oneshot ideas eventually and just be sad
Stay With Me | Canonverse Fluff Oneshot
✧ word count ➼ 1.6k
✧ notes ➼ canonverse, slight divergence from s4 plot (idk i wrote this in the middle of the night ok), just overall sweetness ♡
The sun had just set and you knew you had roughly 10 hours before you had to leave to face both Eren and Zeke, who had full control of the Titans on the island and were leading them down a path of destruction.
You stood outside your tent as you took off your cloak. As your eyes traced over the symbol of the Scouts that was supposed to symbolize the wings of freedom, you felt your breath hitch. Nearly everyone that you had met when you first got initiated into the Scouts all those years ago was gone. It was now literally only you, Hange, and Levi—maybe even less after the battle the following day.
The odds were overwhelmingly against you. The enemy had the ability to transform into deadly Titans. Your ranks have been devastated by just Zeke alone and now you were going to face off against both Zeke and Eren with minimal forces.
Levi was an Ackerman that had a stupid amount of strength when it came to combat. While you could not be fairly compared to Humanity's Strongest Soldier™, you were also a formidable force on the battlefield. However, those factors paled when it came to the Jaeger brothers. Zeke alone, even while injured, brought both of you to the brink of death through a cleverly set trap. If the cards hadn't lined up correctly, both you and Levi would be dead.
A part of you did wish that you had just died so that you could join your fallen comrades, but you knew how much that would destroy Levi.
With a solemn look on your face, you gently undid the buckles around your waist that held your mobility gear in place. As you raised your arms off to pull the harness over your head, you felt a sharp pain on your upper right side and let go of the harness as you lowered your arm, letting out a soft groan of pain.
You took a deep breath as you prepared to lift your harness over your head again.
However, before you were even able to exert any force to lift it, you felt someone walk up behind you and the harness was gently raised off of you. You glanced back and saw that Levi had noticed you struggling and came over to help.
“How’s your wound?” he asked quietly.
"I feel pathetic," you whispered without answering his question, watching as he set your gear down next to your tent. “How the hell am I supposed to fight those two monsters if I can’t even take my own gear off?”
Levi remained quiet as you spoke, lifting up your right arm to check on your bandaging. Seeing that it was starting to come undone, he gently nudged you towards his own tent.
“Come, I’ll swap out your gauze.”
~~~~~
You sat on the floor of Levi's tent with your arm raised, staring at the door with a blank expression as he unwrapped the old bandaging and began replacing it with new ones. You frowned as you saw the fresh blood that had begun to stain the old set of bandages. Levi had said that your bandages were becoming undone, but it seems that the wound had started bleeding again as well.
You looked over at him, grief entering your heart as you thought about what the most likely outcome was for tomorrow's battle that was rapidly approaching.
Once he was done, you both got out of his tent and saw that the majority of the remaining Scouts had gone to sleep in their individual tents. You turned towards him without quite making eye contact and spoke quietly.
“Big day tomorrow.”
"Yeah?" he replied, matching your volume.
"We might not survive this battle," you said with your voice devoid of emotion.
“I know.”
“He already fucked us both over when we least expected it. We should be prepared for anything.”
"I know," he repeated. He knew what you were trying to say. He knew about the thoughts that were running through your mind about not surviving the upcoming battle.
You sighed tiredly as you began to turn and leave for your own tent, unsure if you were going to be able to get any sleep.
"Wait," Levi said before placing his hand on your arm to keep you from turning further. His voice was so quiet it was barely audible.
You stopped turning, but frowned.
“You going to take me off the mission again?”
“No,” he said before pausing, as if he was thinking about how to choose his words carefully.
As you watched him, you realized you knew where his train of thought was going. You felt your heart pounding harder and harder as you slowly looked up at him, staring right into his steel blue eyes.
It was agonizing for the both of you to stand there, wondering what the others' next move was going to be. You both knew what you wanted, and what the other other was offering. You've known it for years at this point. You knew when you brought it up the night before the battle of Shiganshina. You knew when you brought it up at your camp a few weeks ago before Zeke got away. You've known, but by the time you were ready to address it, disaster had struck and you ran out of time.
As a result, Levi felt incredibly pressured on this final night before a big battle. You both had a very close call where you lost nearly everything. It was a miracle that you were still alive.
Before you could think of a proper response, he pulled you into a gentle kiss, relief soaring through his body as he felt you relax into him. He knew why he had latched so hard onto the idea of protecting you. He knew why his mind became murky and cloudy upon the idea of you being in danger. He knew why he was absolutely devastated when he saw your state after the explosion. He had loved you all along, but was too scared to acknowledge it.
You stood there for a few seconds before he slowly pulled away, resting his forehead on yours.
“Keep this between us,” he whispered. “And don’t-”
“-die on me, you idiot.”
You finished his sentence for him with a small smirk before pulling back and looking up at him. He had noticed that you were slightly blushing and he found himself in one of the rare instances in which he was smiling and sustaining it for more than 5 seconds.
“I’ll see you tomorrow…Levi.”
You shot him another smile as you said his name.
He felt his own smile fade away as you shuffled around, preparing to turn and walk away. His grip on you tightened a bit, signaling you to stop turning. The idea of being away from you placed a strong pressure on his chest that was making it hard for him to breathe properly.
“Stay with me tonight.”
"Hmm?" you said quietly, looking up into his eyes again.
“If we might not live to see tomorrow, then stay with me tonight.”
Your gaze softened as he spoke.
“What happened to keeping this between us?”
"I'm sure I'll think of something," he said as he gently nudged you and you both walked back into his tent.
You were both short enough to be able to fully stand even inside the tent. For the first time ever since you first met him, you felt nervous around him, suddenly aware of the weight that your words now mean to him. Given Levi's past, you recognized that it likely took every ounce of strength he had in him to make that first move.
You saw him begin to take off his own mobility gear and you slowly moved your arm up and down to try to ease the newly wrapped bandages in.
He noticed your movements and walked over to you, gently placing his hands on your shoulders and turning you around to face him.
"Don’t move around too much or it’ll open again. We’re going to run out of bandages eventually."
"Well, I'm not going to be able to sit still while in battle, am I?"
He gave you an exasperated look.
"At least make it so that you don't bleed out in your sleep. You'll stain the sleeping bag."
You had to stifle a chuckle at his comment. Even in this very post-apocalyptic scenario in which you were surrounded by death and destruction, Levi Ackermann was still a neat freak.
"You know, I'm surprised you're even okay with a sleeping bag, given how dirty it can get sleeping on the ground," you teased, a playful grin showing on your face.
"I'm not, but it's not like we have much of a choice."
Just as you were about to retort with some ridiculous, unrealistic method to maintain his need to be clean despite being in the middle of the woods, he had pulled you into another kiss, although you weren't sure if it was just his way of shutting you up.
Regardless, you didn't mind. You shut your eyes as you pressed your body up against him.
Even if you might not survive to see the day after, even if disaster continued to strike, even if you might never see him again, you acknowledged that you at least had him here now—embracing you and loving you like nothing else existed except for the two of you in this very moment.
A/N: yes you can probably tell they're going to do the naughty but it's sweet uwu-vibes naughty
#levi x reader#levi ackerman x reader#levi heichou x reader#captain levi x reader#levi fluff#levi#levi ackerman#levi heichou#captain levi#attack on titan#aot#shingeki no kyojin#shingeki no kyoujin#snk
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PROPAGANDA
Raven Branwen
she's so fucked up she abandoned her child and her teammates and became the leader of a tribe of bandits but also she abandoned her child and teammates because she felt she couldn't contribute to them in helpful ways and they were better off without her but it could also be seen as selfish because she didn't want to do the work to become better and she felt like they were fighting a losing battle and she couldn't keep the same hope as them. fandom either sees her as sexy did-what-she-had-to-do-did-nothing-wrong or as an evil irredeemable villain and she's not either!!!!!! she's somewhere in between!
Gon Freecss
It's ALWAYS the beef between people saying he's actually a monster and the ones saying "he's just a kid and he never did anything wrong in his entire life". The first ones won't accept the fact that Gon is kind with his loved ones. That he's hurt and did bad things when he was hurt. That he cares for his friends. That he is naive and really acts as a child. That the monster he is inside isn't ALL that he is – only a part of what he is. That a big part of how he acts was caused by the fact all of the adults in his life never saw the red flags and pushed him to keep acting like that because "haha quirky kid". The second ones won't accept the fact that Gon is selfish – it's literally said multiple times in the canon that he is but you know, selfish is an "actually bad flaw that only bad people have so he can't be". They won't accept the fact that his naivety is the thing that makes him morally grey because he can't tell the difference between good or bad. That he doesn't really care for anyone except him and his friends / family. That he was literally called a monster, canonically. That he would destroy the world and then himself with no hesitation because he's hurt. That him being young is, yes, a point, but that doesn't mean he's "just a little angel uwu". That's simply NOT how his character is written. The worst problem I think, is that none of these people seems to acknowledge the fact Gon is supposed to represent the yin part of yin and yang (while his best friend, Killua, represents the yang). Gon is supposed to be "in light there is darkness". How the light can actually be monstruous, maybe more than darkness, but it is still light. While Killua is supposed to be "in darkness there is light" and how darkness can be pure, maybe more than light, but it's still darkness – they seem to get the yang part more for some reasons ? The yin and yang analogy is my favorite trope ever and it's so sad to see this fandom watering it down because they won't accept the fact Gon is morally grey.
#misrepresented morally grey#round 1#bracket c#both bracket#rwby#raven branwen#hunter x hunter#gon freecss
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They Howl at Night (10/?)
Huh i wonder what splodge has been doing- *BAM WRITES A NEW CHAPTER OF A FIC I KIND OF DROPPED 2 YEARS AGO AND PROBABLY LITERALLY NOBODY WAS WAITING FOR* (ao3 link uwu)
(I hope my writing has improved lmfao but I'm doing this for funsies so I guess it doesn't matter)
Alcor sat cross legged in the small room and picked at a very sticky sticker that had made its way into the collar of his shirt and attached itself to his neck.
He had to find the source of these evil stickers and eliminate them, there was no way they were not demonic in some way.
He was drawing a portrait of one of his nightmare sheep on the floor with a piece of chalk he’d found in his sock.
He felt a little bored, and he didn’t have the usual flow of random information to keep him occupied for some reason. Not that he wasn’t grateful to finally have some peace and quiet, but he was always a little on edge when his powers weren’t torturing him as they usually did, and they were being strangely nice to him lately.
He heard something in the hall, and looked up to see that girl from the supermarket with her face pressed against the clear plastic wall of the room where it led into the corridors.
Alcor froze, not sure what to do. Why did he not know she worked here? Shouldn’t he have received that information? He didn’t want to scare the Mizar or immediately break Lucy-Ann’s trust by going full brother mode.
What did humans do to greet each other again?
Alcor slowly raised a hand, and slowly bent each finger crunchily to prove he had joints and gain her trust.
The girl looked at him with a mild look of disgust, but not the scared kind, just the ‘nobody waves like that’ kind of way. Nailed it.
The girl bent down to one of the air holes that were drilled into the plastic wall in case the vents stopped working.
“Hello! Um… Mister…” She removed her mouth from the air hole to check the sign next to his room.
“Pines. We literally have the same surname, how did I forget it?” She mumbled to herself, before clamping her mouth against the air hole to make sure he could hear her (there was an anti soundproof sigil on the plastic, and it was completely unnecessary).
“Hello mister Pines! Do you happen to know about the guy who was in this room before you?”
Alcor stared at her for a second, instinctively waiting for the answer to pop into his head (he had not bothered to read the more boring documents, and had been relying on just knowing important information if asked).
But the answer never came, and the second he stared at her became half a minute of eye contact.
His powers were fucking him over all along after all.
He looked slightly to the side, the amount of eye contact feeling uncomfortable even to an immortal being above human awkwardness(lies), and tried to ‘dig out’ the answer.
He wasn’t sure what went on in a normal human brain anymore, not having had one for several hundred, maybe over a thousand years, (He wasn’t sure. He wasn’t counting the seconds of his life like he usually did, and he hadn’t even noticed until that moment,) but he was sure if it was possible for him to get one again, he was probably close. He couldn’t find anything in his mind that he didn't already know, and he even couldn’t find all the stuff he knew already.
“I don’t know.” (This was a sentence he hadn’t said completely honestly in years.)
He kept picking at the sticker on his neck.
“Oh.”
"Sorry."
“No, it’s alright! I just thought all that eye contact might’ve meant something.”
Alcor shook his head.
He finally manages to stick one of his long and very nicely painted fingernails under the sticker and peeled it off. Now his fingers were sticky. Great.
“And you’re sure you don’t know anything about him? His name is Xander? Xander McKindley?”
Alcor finally heard something quietly answering the question in his head, and he automatically started reciting it.
“Xander McKindley. 61. 3 living relatives, excluding people whose last shared ancestors with him were more than two hundred years ago. Until last week he went missing. Instead of it getting reported, someone working within the official werewolf safety program deleted all his files, and most people who had known Xander were told he moved.”
He was quite proud of himself.
The girl staring at him looked at him with her mouth wide open.
“What? Who? How come you didn’t know who I was talking about earlier?”
This time, the answer didn't come to him again. Alcor looked down and tried to remove the sticker's melting glue from his hands.
“I don’t know.”
He earned a frustrated groan in response, and the girl turned back to where she’d walked into the hall from and walked away rapidly.
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this post is not abt bravern but it Is abt my Bravern Feelings
i miss this show so much already SOBS. i did enlist another g roup of irl friends to watch it w me though and we are starting tomorrow so yay :] and also beware the rewatch posts
[guy who has said that i'm glad i watched this live every week voice] i'm rly glad i watched this live, but this time its bc. i think there is something so truly and genuinely special abt the way that the theories abt bravern himself evolved week to week.........like at first everyone was like Well maybe he's an evil alien who is gonna Kill isami. and then everyone was like Well maybe he's a death drive and isami is his lulu. and THEN everyone was like Well there's still some knuth in there so. but none of that was the case!!! none of that was true!!! it was literally just this one guy and all of the love he has and Absolutely Sucks Shit at expressing!!!!!!! and i just. idk. that hits me rly hard that maybe it was percieved as sinister at first just cause it was a little Off but in the end it was something really really sweet :] it also just feels like yet another way of the show doing its "we know audiences aren't willing to accept optimism at face value these days" schtick like they mentioned in that one interview and just. showing how bravern himself evolves in the eyes of the viewer. it's rly special to me :]
i know bravern speaking german in ep2 was a nod to the translator he uses on superbia later but. what if someone loved you so much they became german (if i ever mention kyouji again in a bravern context just fucking shoot me)
WILD to watch the finale and then see the isami hate train take off FKSJDHFJ cause i feel like i adored him so much in that ep LMAO. my guy really felt every emotion known to man in the span of 22 minutes and then started makin gup new ones. he's very human!!! and i love that abt him!!!!
although some takes. i'm ngl. i know we joke abt subtext and cowards but it becomes less funny when the subtext that is there is missed LMAO
sorry to keep bringing up ep4 but i think its SO interesting how like. the way that bravern seems to helps isami out emotionally in that ep actually ends up not helping him in the long run aswell? like getting to know all those ppl care abt him is good ofc but it also feeds Directly into his hangups in ep5. and i remember being a little confused as to Why that was the case on first watch cause ep4 was So abt his beef w lulu (FLSDKJFH) but w the smith being a human again thing in the end it makes. so much more sense!!!!! i can't wait to rewatch the show w it still fresh in my mind and find even more!!!!!!
and omg the beef with lulu. literally nothing is funnier to me than "we are gonna have one Rival Fight in this show and that position is gonna be filled by isami and smith's fucking KID" SOBS. LIKE. it kills me FKSLDJFHL. though i will say again that i think it is So fucking special that in ep10 lulu specifically calls out isami taking care of her after smith dies and it apparently happens to such a degree that like. he is worth her time traveling back to save independently aswell? even though there was no way that he "took care of her" for more than a couple days? which i think just says so much abt isami in the sense that like. at no point before ep6-7ish in his arc would he have even entertained that idea. uwu
i think i said this before but ikd if i included the screenshot but. the fact that while bravern is dying he sees THAT SAME FUCKING PICTURE is just evidence that men do not take enough photos i think
there is literally Nothing more onbrand for bravern than the fucking. "ep13 abema listing" (if anyone who has not heard abt that sees this. it was just a rebroadcast of ep12 mislabeled) sending everyone into a tizzy regarding like. Secret Episode Question Mark except half of everyone being convinced its an april fools joke and the other half being convinced that the april fools joke is that we didn't expect it. and then it turns out to not be interntional atall and the real april fools joke is Fry Pan. SOBS
Crunchyroll I Am Begging You If You Dub This Please Dub The Songs Too Oh My God (<- delusional)
anyways!!!!!!!!!!! again i know recency bias is the killa but god. i really loved this show a lot!!!! it might be an alltime fave story for me in general!!!!!! even if it's not it was a really special experiance and story on the whole and i'm just really really happy i get to carry it in my heart forever :]
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Haven't posted in a while, but something that was really bugging me a lot was some shit I noticed when rewatching the Moon Knight series that I think a lot of comic book fans could relate to. I know, Mr " um actually " comic book guy is talking right now but imma need you all to bare with me here for a second. and before any of you start typing, please remember everything said here is MY opinion. All I ask is that you're respectful. I'm going to start of with how I don't understand the hype around this motherfucker.
Literally the most whiniest mf in the ENTIRETY of the MCU. The only people who can like or tolerate this bitch are mfs who have 9 hours of daily screen time on TikTok, listen to hyperpop music and think that he's a soft uwu meow meow baby girl hurt emo princess boy.
Moon Knight is literally one of the most metal superheros out there and the directors saw that and said, " now imagine that but we make his woman so much better than him and water him down and completely change his back story and then wipe our asses with it, spit on it and then pretend we were trying to show representation. " Like what the fuck are you fucking doing?
My first problem is that I felt like this show focused too much on Layla and her relationship to Marc... Nvm, Sorry I lied. Not Marc, fucking STEVEN. This show isn't about " Layla ", its about MARC and Steven and JAKE. (I'll talk about Jake later) Like can we just... " Are you an Egyptian superhero? " " I am. 🥺" GIRL BYE 💀💀 this part of this show was so bad it made eternals look good. This was cringe on the level of seeing your mother do a dab. All that episode 6 was about was Layla kicking ass and that's it. I don't understand why Kevin Feige has the urge to make everything about badass women. Like theres ABSOLUTELY nothing wrong with that, I love badass women and we need more women superheros, but I'm just saying, I came here to watch MOON KNIGHT not Layla El-faouly.
So funny how they make a show about Marc Spector and he only gets like 20 minutes out of the 6 hours of the entirety of the show. I think the most time he got on screen was like episode five and maybe two but that's about it. It felt like he was only there to make things depressing and to make Steven Grant have better character development because he himself is just so fucking boring and not funny. Marc Spector is so much more than " I got hit as a kid and my alter ego is fucking my ex wife. " He's a Jewish antihero struggling with a personality disorder that's eating his life away and a toxic relationship with a man who's been basically lying, emotionally abusing, and manipulating him since his CHILDHOOD. What I love most about Marc Spector is that he's not like all other these mighty superheros, he's just some dude. He just some dude with real human struggles like you and me, trying to figure himself out and navigate through his disorder. Marc should have had a bigger role in this show but I guess Steven Grant and Layla were more interesting than him. Steven is the main course, Layla is the desert and Marc is the salad off to the side that's barley been eaten.
Steven Grant is not a shy British man with great manners who works in a gift shop and is giving in his moms flat, he's a savvy millionaire ( who's from Chicago, Illinois, so as Marc and Jake ) who works in the film industry and lives in a mansion. Those are two completely different characters. Everyone that I've seen who's criticized Steven in the slightest has said that he was bland, boring, and the producers were trying too hard to make him funny. You can't try to have something that's just straight up sad happening with a character and then pretend that it's funny and try to make it into comedy. That's just not how it works and it's not realistic. That's why movies like The Crow are good and movies like Renfield are bad. The Crow takes itself seriously and is genuinely sad but lightly sprinkled with comedy, Renfield wanted to be a bit sad, but ruined itself by trying to hard to make every scene funny.
The only good scene in this entire show is the scene where Marc says, " you are you the only real superpower I ever had " or whatever the fuck. I didn't pay attention because all I could think about was the scene from frozen where Anna fucking froze and Elsa cried about it and then unfroze her with her tears or something. I guess her tears must have been really hot.
What I'll give Muhammad Diab credit for is casting. Having Layla be Egyptian is good, and having Oscar Isaac casted as Marc is also really good. Everyone In the comics is white for a character normally centered around Egyptian bullshit. They also got Khonshus personality right and that's about it.
I hate how the producers said that this show was all about " representation" and then didn't add Frenchie, who is a gay french guy in it or Bushman who is a black mercenary because he was " too much like Killmonger " ( which doesn't make any fucking sense because they are drastically different on so many levels but okay. ) they also said that this show is they're most brutal and violent show yet, but they were " violent " ( and bloody-ish ) the first three episodes and then just kinda gave up towards the end.
For the last thing, I'm gonna talk about Jake finally. Just pretend that I'm sighing right now. Like a really audible, dramatic sigh.
I get they wanted for us to differentiate the differences between each personality with accents but Jake doesn't need to speak Spanish. He doesn't speak Spanish in the comics and having him do it is completely unnecessary. I get it's Hollywood and Hollywood needs to make everything sexy and attractive, but Jake Lockley is the least sexiest alter of Marc Spector. He doesn't wear a suit with black leather gloves or drive a limousine, he's a fucking taxi cab driver with a really weird mustache who wears a turtle neck. When I think sexy, I don't think taxi driver. And it ruins the point of Jake Lockley as well because Marc uses Jake to see what's going on on the streets in New York. New York is really busy and crowded, so people are more prone to using a taxi, not a limousine unless you're bougie and rich.
Anyways that was my rant. Good night.
#marvel#marvel cinematic universe#marvel mcu#marc spector#moon knight#steven grant#jake lockley#marvel smut#moon knight comics#marvel comics#steven grant slander#marvel slander#moon knight slander
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Am I the only one who thinks the Cat deserved to ascend (ik he can't but idk make up deus ex machina that allows him to do so) more than Neo? Like Neo objectively did far worse things than Curious Cat. And Cat actually had a pretty good reason to he mad. He actually is a sad sympathetic character that was basically a victim of god brothers. But for some reason Neo gets a poetic ending where she just mary poppinses out of the story and main characters act like she was not torturing Ruby two episodes ago. While Curious Cat gets brutally killed off?? Like bro what???
Given the Curious Cat bullshit happening in the fndm right now it felt appropriate to find every ask about them and go through them all because I am tired. So fucking tired.
But honestly anon I was so so so hoping they would. I read the spoilers and saw the leek about what happened to curious and I was so hopeful it was wrong somehow but it unfortunately....wasn't. The curious cat really was made so sympathetic in the backstory section with the Blacksmith especially and it showed how hurt and broken they where with no way to deal with that pain and hurt and we're supposed to cheer when they are brutally murdered. Meanwhile the character that literally pushed Ruby to attempt suicide is allowed to be seen in sympathetic light and is framed narratively for the audience to feel bad for her and to be happy when she decides to ascend.
The uncomfortable implications we're getting is we're supposed to see the brothers as good and right because both of their victims (Ozpin and Curious) the narrative torments and hurts and beats down over and over and over again. Why? The brothers cause so much pain and suffering and yet the characters whom they caused the most suffering are framed over and over again as bad and wrong and deserving of what they got rather then the horror of what was done to them explored.
Their is also a massive amount of sexism in Curious vs. Neo that we can see happening over and over and over again even with CRWBY and how they describe the characters. The infamous character tier chart still makes me so mad with characters like James being sent to "Super hell" while Salem is significantly higher on the list because somehow she's not seen as being "directly" mean. The issue doesn't steam from the actual characters actions or backstories or reasons for said actions, all that matters is whether or not they're a uwu sad poor wittle girl who can't be blamed for her actions because she's just to uwu sad to be held accountable.
The amount of rage I feel every time I think about this is just through the fucking roof. Why does CRWBY get away with continually and repeatedly infantilizing woman and pretending they're to weak and sad or whatever other bullshit to actually have to face some fucking consequences for the sheer and utter bullshit they repeatedly pull.
Sorry sorry I know this is about Curious but damn their are just so many varying gross factors that pile up in regards to the shows decision on their treatment and deciding that being eaten alive is somehow a fate....anyone deserves. But CRWBY has made it crystal fucking clear that if you are neurodivergent or mentally ill and aren't a hot girl the narrative will magically cure of those problems you deserve every second of the suffering you're put through and that is disturbing.
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Gwitch ep 4
just watched ep 4... some of my thoughts under the cut
Guel: i actually liked that Guel is still kind of an abrasive jerk; it’s obvious that his “apology” to Miorine wasn’t genuine, and he only did it because his sense of honor compels him to abide by the duel results. Coupled with the conversation he has with his brother about not pissing their dad off any further, it may signal Guel doubling down on supporting the shitty practices of the mega-corp culture (probably shown to the audience by obeying his dad), even though a part of him that had a brief taste of freedom knows it’s wrong.
also, the “it’s not like I’m actually interested in you” tsundere comment had me laughing... but it’s also kind of sad in a way if he is actually telling the truth? Suletta’s comments after their duel is the first time in his life he’s felt seen, and his first instinct is to get married because he can’t conceptualize any other way to keep this moment of happiness. On the one hand, I think it’d be cool if Guel genuinely isn’t romantically interested in Suletta, and the proposal is purely a knee-jerk expression of Guel enjoying being valued for something he’s proud of without hidden expectations. On the other, the whole situation is such an archetype in fictional romance situations that it’s hard to imagine them not following up on it. (That said, I don’t foresee Suletta reciprocating the interest; Guel may sacrifice himself to save Suletta at a critical moment down the line though.)
Chuchu: lmao it was soooo satisfying when she clocked that bully out cold! I also think it’s kind of funny that the proctors for the piloting exam 1) do not give a fuck about sabotage + literal brawls and 2) let failing students redo their makeup test until they pass. I mean, (2) makes sense because all the kids got into the school because of their connections to corporations, so they probably can’t actually fail anyone because it might cause political trouble if they failed someone who is well-connected? (I do kinda question the lax attitude about the brawl and the genera lack of safety precautions though? A lot of the top corporations have their heirs attending the school; all it takes is an accident, and you can put a lot of corporations out of commission, or at least wipe out a large portion of the next generation easily.)
Another thing that I thought was cool is that Chuchu was initially cheering for Suletta—to the point where her dorm-mates are like “um she’s from space too”—and it’s only after Guel’s failed proposal that she gets angry and writes Suletta off as one of “those carefree Spacians” since she thought the whole thing is a stupid love quarrel. It makes sense why she changes her mind about Suletta later on.
Also, while Chuchu certainly is abrasive against Spacians, I was not a fan of how Miorine basically said “reverse racism” without acknowledging the unequal power dynamics between Earthians and Spacians. I’m a little worried that the show is gonna go the route of “uwu can’t we all just be nice to each other” and tone police individuals from the oppressed group, when the power balance is inherently skewed. Like... I hope Miorine realizes later on that her comment was tone-deaf at best, but I honestly don’t know what to expect.
Miorine: her status of having no support system/no power despite being the president’s daughter is reinforced here—she lives in her father’s office instead of a dorm. Since she’s a ‘prize’ for the Holder, it makes sense that she doesn’t technically ‘belong’ to any House i guess?
Now, I get the feeling that a ‘Rembran House’ doesn’t exist, despite Delling being the highest authority in their hellscape corpocracy—since Houses/dorms are affiliated with the sponsoring companies, I wonder if this suggests Delling doesn’t actually have a platform to sponsor (multiple) students (or is otherwise constrained). He’s the head of the Benerit Group, but he seems to rely on personal power/charisma (for lack of a better word) rather than a corporation as his power base?
If the above speculation is on the right track, I think it’s really interesting that Miorine and her father share the trait of being individualistic; I hope Miorine’s arc involves a deeper understanding of group/community dynamics and connecting to a support system. Right now Miorine has no friends, other than arguably Suletta. When they’re in trouble/need help from others, Suletta is able/willing to ask others for help (though nobody is really willing to help); in contrast, Miorine tries to do everything herself—she can’t rely on anyone because her father undermines her autonomy at every turn for pretty much her entire life. I look forward to the dynamics between our leads and see if they’ll start to take traits from each other.
Suletta: I think Suletta is a really interesting character in that she seems a little contradictory? She’s both a confident badass (in Aerial) and a shy, stuttering mess (in social interactions). I like that she’s a beast with Aerial, but needs help with the basic stuff that the school teaches; it gives off the feeling that she’s an ace in a very specific field, but needs help in other areas. Her dream is very sweet, and sets up a nice contrast with Miorine’s “live only for yourself” mentality.
The sequence with her having to retake the makeup test over and over again really got to me: it’s a huge blow to her self-esteem since it’s happening in public, and even as an audience i could feel the stress/panic of failing over and over and over again with the added pressure of the bullies laughing and Chuchu complaining about the retakes cutting into her own test time.
Spacian/Earthian conflict: okay, so it’s mostly referred to as a racism problem, but it’s really a race/class intersectional issue. I am a little worried that the show will just... kinda equate the two without exploring the nuance between these two axis of oppression (after all, there should theoretically be rich Earthian companies, and we know there are poor Spacian corporations in low standing), but I’m happy to see where the show takes us.
I kinda hope the link between the corpocracy and nationality is made clearer—the main ‘location-based’ conflict is between Earth and Space because all the big companies are based in space colonies (while Earth is seen as just a place for sweatshop factories at this point), but what about the conflict between ‘rich space’ and ‘poor space’ (i.e. the situation of Mercury)? If the whole thing is ruled by a corpocracy—and we know it’s a cutthroat environment judging by ep 1—then what about the people from the same space colony who work for different companies? (e.g. if Peil Technologies and a 3rd-rate company both have established bases on Planet A, what are the dynamics like on Planet A between the employees of these 2 groups? Is there really a concept of ‘civilians’ that aren’t in some way part of the corporate structure?)
Also, I do kind of wonder what the slow acting spray that the bullies used are for in the wider world-building context. Again, I think a lot of the details and concepts are very cool, but I hope it ties back into the bigger picture as opposed to just being there for the Rule of Cool.
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As a Children’s Story for Children: Percy Jackson and the Olympians-- #1, The Lightning Thief
Age I was told midge should be: 6-8
Quick review: This one is for the girlies that get into Greek myths when they’re 8, huh? Enjoyable! I would have zero problem with Midge getting into this.
Longer review:
So I was 18 or 19 when Percy Jackson first came out, far beyond reading a book like that, and thus, while I’ve HEARD a lot of people talk about how good it is, it was never something I experienced for myself.
It’s hard, of course, to imagine how you might have experienced something as a kid, but that was in fact the brief for this whole thing. I think I would have loved this in the 6-8 range. It would have been the perfect level of difficulty for me, and I wouldn’t have been canny enough yet for its mysteries to seem obvious.
It was so much fun reading the little drops about who a god was, and laughing because of course to an adult it’s so obvious but it’s set up to be just hard enough for kids that they feel clever if they figure it out. I was rubbing my little goblin hands together and laughing during all the medusa stuff, when Ares came into the diner, all that. Loved it, I think that’s such fun and such a great way to set these things up.
The details of how the Gods are handled is some of the best stuff. Loved the bit with Charon, particularly. I would say that’s where this book really shines, is in humanizing the gods.
Delighted by the fact that we don’t have a woobie Hades in this. I know penudulums are what they are, and I don’t need or even necessarily want full mustache twirling Hades, but I did not realize how fucking sick to death I was of the currently-popular uwu internet take on Hades until I was not forced to deal with it in this book.
Howl laughed at how Riordan literally goes, “Mount Olympus is in the US now, because that’sd where fucking everything is happening and also I’m the author. Deal with it.” King energy. We love it.
I actually AM a little surprised at the positive reception from tumblr given the…anti-ADHD meds bent of the book. Don’t misunderstand me, I was totally fine with it, as I am, myself, a little maybe not quite anti-medication, but annoyed by the fact that it’s often represented as the only option, and my feelings often mirror Riordan’s sense of, ‘They want to medicate you because they want you to shut up and sit down, more than they want you to be happy” I mean literally Annabeth says “Of course they want you medicated, so you won’t notice” Again, not a problem for me! But I was surprised there’s not some kinda wild ass uproar given the very very pro-med vibe online.
As an ADHD girlie myself, I did roll my eyes a little bit at the “ADHD is because you’re the child of a God, and you’re just so special and quick and marvelous” but I remind myself that 2005 was a different time and I’m not sure I ever heard anything positive said about my ADHD back then. Also I love that Annabeth is also brave and impulsive and quick. I love it when women with ADHD are allowed to be that way instead of just being daydreamers or whatever, the number of times I’ve heard ~only boys are hyperactive~ while I’m jumping off a roof just to see how it feels is annoying as fuck to me personally, so, let Annabeth be out of her mind, as a treat.
I was a little frustrated by the end of the book. Ares is being a dick about it, sure, great, and we find out that Kronos was sort of “THE REAL VILLAIN” but it feels very…unfinished? Like I knwo it’s a series, but there was something about the end where it didn’t feel like it tied up at all, but nor was it the sort of thing that felt like the end of a miniseries episode, you know? That sense of, “this story is finished, here’s the first five seconds of the next one” sort of thing. Like the end of The Golden Compass*, is really good at that. This was just a sort of gentle trailing off, to me.
Overall lesson teaching: Other than “don’t be a coward” I’m not sure I mined a lot of lessons for Jewlet to learn from the book. This might be something I’d see on a reread, because the first time you read something is always the most surface, but also I can usually pick up on what I think is being reinforced by a story the first go. It’s a very stock on-rails fantasy hero story in this way: Be loyal to your friends. Be brave. Etc. So it’s not particularly special in that regard.
In all, I’d be happy to have Midge get into this series assuming it doesn’t go completely off the rails or anything! I don’t know if I’d make a special effort ot have her read them, but if she starts getting into fantasy books, I would definitely present them as an option.
*The Golden Compass is a better title than Northern Lights. You can get shirty about it being the American Title so it must inherently suck if you want, but it fits thematically with the rest of the titles far better than Northern Lights and creates cohesion within the series. It also is a more engaging title. Like, I’ll do with you on the Philosopher’s stone thing, but naw, The Golden Compass is right.
#Eight Days 2022#Jewlet! At the Disco#also me reading this as an adult: oh goddamnit Annabeth and Percy are gonna get together aren't they
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