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#but here you go anon
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Katniss feeling insecure one random afternoon after seeing Peeta interact with some pretty girlies and asking him later that night all quiet if he thinks she’s pretty 🥺
I meant for this to be funny and then it turned out... not funny. Oh well. Enjoy some post-Mockingjay not fluff but not really angst??? No warning tags on this one.
“Having an eye for beauty isn’t the same thing as a weakness,” Peeta points out. “Except possibly when it comes to you.” - Catching Fire, Chapter 15 “You’re not very big, are you? Or particularly pretty?” - Mockingjay, Chapter 16
It takes me longer than usual to finish trading with the new butcher. She’s originally from Ten and came here after marrying a soldier from Thirteen. She refused to live underground any longer and he tried living in Ten, but felt too exposed and jumpy in the flat plains of that district. Twelve was their compromise. But I haven’t had the chance to build the kind of rapport with her that I had with Rooba.
Rooba. I make a mental note to ask Peeta to draw her for the memory book tonight. We’ll both have memories of her that need to be recorded.
When I finish with the butcher, mostly satisfied with the cuts of deer meat and the coin I walk away with, I make my way over to the bakery. Usually I’d help Peeta close for the day. I got lucky catching the deer so close to the fence, but it still took time for me to bring back enough help to drag it to the butcher.
Surprisingly, there are still a handful of customers in the bakery. Unusual, this late in the day. I hasten my steps, thinking Peeta might want some help getting rid of the chatty customers, and seeing me after a hunt usually does the trick.
As I reach the window, though, I slow my pace. It’s not just any customers. It’s the Lassiter girls. They moved here after the war with their father, who used to be the head foreman at a perfume factory in District One. Apparently someone thought his skills would translate well to running a medicine factory, because that’s what his job here is. And his five daughters -- Neroli, Dior, Ambrette, Clary, and Opal -- aged twenty-four to sixteen, spaced two years apart down the line, are each just as beautiful as the last. Gossip holds that they each have a different mother, and while there’s been no confirmation from their father on that point, they’re each so strikingly different in looks and coloring that it wouldn’t surprise me.
They’re currently clustered near the counter, a bouquet of undoubtedly sweet smelling flowers. Their dresses a rainbow of eye-catching hues in expensive looking fabrics. All I can do is snort as I think of how dull and dingy their clothes would’ve been if they’d lived here when there was still a coal mine. But their hair, although different shades, all gleams in glossy waves and curls and curtains of shimmering silk in the bright lights of the bakery.
I hear Peeta’s laughter then, followed shortly by the twittering chorus of the Lassiter girls’ giggling. Ugh. They cannot be serious. Not my Peeta.
None of them are married yet, and there’ve already been several District Twelve men turned away from their front door step with dazed looks in their eyes, like they couldn’t believe they’d actually dared to propose to one of the Lassiter girls. And while this group ambush of my Peeta gives me an idea of what sort of partner they might be looking for, it’s unacceptable.
I push through the bakery door and attempt a smile. Neroli sees me first. The oldest, and by far the smartest of this bunch, our eyes meet and her lips curl in a smile. She’s dressed in a dark, forest green dress. Her dark, almost black hair swept to one side, into a long, sleek ponytail. There’s no denying that she’s stunning. Long, sooty black lashes frame her pale eyes that I’ve never been able to decide if they’re blue or gray. Some part of me knows that if I were somehow more beautiful, I might look like her.
Neroli glances at Peeta, then back at me. She inclines her head slightly towards me, and I’m not certain what she means until she speaks.
“Father will be wondering what’s keeping us,” she announces to her sisters. “Come on. Get your purchases and let’s leave these two turtle doves alone.”
She still pauses to say something to Peeta before she and her sisters clear out, but the glance she throws my way before shutting the door behind her makes me think that maybe Neroli and I might’ve been friends under different circumstances. When I finally manage to look at Peeta, he’s head down in the cases, cleaning them out.
“Lock the door for me? How was your day in the woods?”
“Not bad,” I tell him as I throw the bolt. “I got a deer.”
“That’s great!”
“Put this in the cold storage while I sweep?” I hand him the package from the butchers and he hands me a broom across the counter. It’s one of my usual chores and it isn’t long after that we’re headed home. But all through dinner, I can’t get the image of the flock of Lassiter girls twittering around him out of my head. 
I distract myself after we clean up the kitchen with the memory book, telling Peeta about the deer today and how things went with the new butcher. We share a few memories of Rooba while he sketches her and I write them down in draft. We manage to finish her page and seal it into the book before it’s very late.
And while Peeta showers with me, and stands next to me while we brush our teeth and get ready for bed, he somehow feels distant. As I lay down and watch him as he carefully removes his prosthetic, I can’t help but think again about the Lassiter girls.
“Goodnight, my love,” he murmurs as he turns to me, slipping his legs under the covers and cupping my cheek in his palm before kissing my lips once, softly.
“Goodnight,” I respond and blink when he turns out the light and lays down.
But I can’t get comfortable. And behind my closed eyes, I see a still ravaged Peeta, the hijacking reversal barely even begun. His knuckles pale as he gripped the bedsheets beneath him and restraints holding him down, safely away from me.
“You’re not very big, are you? Or particularly pretty.”
I huff out a heavy breath and jam the heels of my palms into my closed eyes, trying to push the image out of my brain. He’s laying right here beside me. He kissed me and called me his love just minutes ago. What Peeta and I have puts the stars in the sky and the poets’ words on the page to shame with its depth and significance. That’s far better than some superficial beauty.
And yet the words still slip past my lips.
“Peeta,” I whisper, and he hums in response so that I’m not sure if he’s fully awake or not. “Do you think I’m pretty?”
There’s a few seconds of silence and then I hear the sound of the sheets rustling as Peeta turns over to face me.
“Are you serious?”
“It’s just a question,” I say and smack my hands down onto the bed, right at my sides. They’re still clenched into fists and I try to hold back the sudden, ridiculous tears welling up in my eyes. Because his hesitancy to answer tells me what I need to know. How stupid of me to ask.
“Katniss, honey,” he breathes and moves through the dark, pulling me into his arms. “You will always be as radiant as the sun to me,” he tells me and I snort, wishing I’d never told him that phrase or how I’d once used it. “No, I’m serious. Katniss, you take my breath away.”
“But I’m still not particularly pretty. At least not as pretty as Neroli Lassiter, am I?” I poke and I can feel his frame stiffening besides me.
“No. Oh no, no, you can’t believe what I said that day, Katniss.”
“But you were right. I’m not very big.”
“And we both looked like shit that day because we’d been through too much shit. That doesn’t mean I meant it, Katniss. You have to know I was… I was trying to hurt you that day. Hurt you the way I thought you’d hurt me. Because I thought you’d used me, chosen Gale and the rebels, and left me to die or worse in that arena.”
“I know,” I say and finally manage to turn over into his embrace, burying my face in his chest as he caresses my back and whispers a hundred apologies for his careless words. I inhale his scent and let his hands soothe me.
So when he slips his fingers beneath my chin, I let him lift my face to his. I close my eyes and savor the brush of his lips against mine.
“You once told me that I had a weakness for beautiful things,” he whispers. “Real or not real?”
“Real,” I answer without pause. I can smell the horses and feel the warmth of Cinna’s glowing ember costume. I can see Peeta in front of me, radiant and beautiful, and smiling in amusement at my assessment of him. “But you don’t have a weakness for beauty. Only an eye for it,” I remind him.
“So yes, Neroli Lassiter is a beautiful woman--”
“And her sisters?” I prod and I can feel Peeta smiling against my lips as he kisses me once.
“And her sisters are, too. But you’re the only beautiful person I have a weakness for. No one else has left a lasting impression the way you have.”
I can’t help but smile stupidly at the repetition of his words from the cave. The reminder that somewhere amongst the acting for the cameras, we always had at least a sliver, a taste, a fraction of or at least the roots of something real.
“I’m still a goner for you, Katniss Everdeen, real or not real?” he whispers, and I already know the answer. I know what he wants me to say, because it’s true.
“Real.”
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qtubbo · 6 months
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wait- what competition do bad and tubbo have tomorrow? :0
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Its another Minecraft competition im unsure how it actually functions though, (i just noticed they are using bad and tubbo’s qsmp lore skins sob)
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negrowhat · 11 months
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Random question -- if you can fantasy plot and cast your dream BL, what would it look like?
Hey Anon! Sorry for the late reply! I pondered this for a little while and lately I've been wanting like a magical soulmates thing with angels and demons.
You know, like a forbidden romance between an angel and a demon. They fall in love in the midst of like a war between the heavens and the underworld. So the demon and the angel decide to run away to what they call purgatory which of course is Earth.
Unfortunately they get separated when they finally make it to Earth and they can't use their powers because it would alert the other angels and demons who are of course looking for them. And of course they have different forms on Earth and of course they don't know what each other's human forms looks like, but at least they're in the same city (duh).
How do they find each other? Of course they both wear some sort of matching jewelry (a ring or bracelet) that has some sort of magical reaction when they are in close proximity of each other.
Of course they randomly bump into each other and are finally reunited. But somehow the demons (or angels or both) get wind of their whereabouts (they're not the only other worldly entities walking amongst the masses) so we spend the rest of the series with them fighting to protect each other and trying not to get taken back or captured by the enemies.
As far as cast? I would LOVE if it was BossNoeul, but I honestly don't think Thailand would do something as elaborate as this.
I think our best bet would be for it to be set in Taiwan or Japan. IDK who I would choose for that though. For Taiwan I really think I would love to see Aaron Lai and Hank Wang because I love them and I honestly think they would be amazing.
I'd say China but it would be a bromance. I'd say Korea but this is not a series that can be done in 8 to 10 micro eps.
IDK.
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samble-moved · 9 months
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post itself
false flags
trans/adjacent tags
accessibility features
tumblr live post (thanks for the link, @problemnyatic)
flashing / strobing / lights
unblockable flashing ad
buying ad free
staff @/macmanx guilt trip
list of staff + more issues
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ato-dato · 8 months
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There he is. Our favorite boy.
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deep-space-lines · 1 month
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okay but like. I just had the weirdest thought about that ‘don’t look I’m naked’ comic. Which is that that’s essentially the same thing Adam and Eve did after they ate the fruit of knowledge of good&evil. So I feel like the theological implications of that could kneecap Gabe if he doesn’t think V1 is a being with free will.
yeah ok. i dunno man. is this anything
((side note. this isn’t necessarily meant to be in-character or story-accurate or take place at any particular point in time, just a way to explore some Thoughts. i was also imagining more that V1’s words aren't actually spoken, more like Gabriel’s more articulate interpretation of whatever garbled mechanical noise V1 is using to communicate. I think an angel could do that.))
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and then they fucked nasty the end
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strayklds · 2 months
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tfw the food is just that good 🍜
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kimtaegis · 4 months
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♪ Happy birthday, dear Min Yoongi ♪
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sophsun1 · 2 months
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Abbott Elementary – 3.05: Breakup | requested by anon
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eddiesghxst · 11 months
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no thoughts just loser!eddie losing his shit when he sees you over at his house for the first time, rifling through his things like any normal friend does.. but you stumble upon a box.under his bed. it’s like slow motion when he walks into his room and sees you open the lid and he nearly drops a glass of water, literally biting his fist in pain, trying to stop you but then you’d only get more curious of what he was hiding.
you. he has polaroids of you except they’re the dirty cum covered kinds. he has your underwear with his stains in it. he has your perfume bottles, your rings (he would totally get hard seeing how tiny they are compared to his, and imagining the dainty stones on the rings on your ring finger like an engagement stone)
it’s like a fucking shrine for you and he thinks he’s gonna pass out as your eyes widen.
but you only turn to him and smile, and his knees weaken. literally almost fainting when you kiss him because you have definitely slept with his sweatshirts, came to the idea of eddie, etc. he’s just such a fucking loser but that night he makes you cum so much you see stars and he’ll have a scrapbooks worth of polaroids (just from that night alone lol)
anyways do you think you could write a lil something based loosely off that? 🫶
BESTIE I MIGHTVE DIED YES. YES YES YES.
also this ended up longer than I'd intended but who cares its pervy!loser!eddie
18+ — MINORS DNI
word count: 1k
————
Eddie’s not sure if he believes this is real. There’s no way this is real, right? There’s no way he has his best friend naked on his bed, covered in sweat and cum— his cum, at that.
He almost thinks it’s all another one of his sick, perverted dreams, but then he’s reminded that none of those dreams have felt this real. None of his dreams have felt this vivid to where he can actually feel the tremble in your hands as you wrap a fist around his wet cock, the shift of the bed as you clumsily scramble to your knees, the lewd and unmistakable shlick sound of your hand fisting his spent cock. It’s never been this vivid— that’s how he knows this isn’t a dream.
You’re blissed out and cock-drunk as you shuffle to lean on all fours, lowering your mouth to suckle on Eddie’s leaking tip. Your toes curl at the sound of Eddie groaning above you, a hand resting on the back of your head to shove himself further down your throat. “Take it all the way in, that’s it— fuck,” Your center throbs at his words, a wet gagging noise emitting from the back of your throat when Eddie’s tip meets the tight space. He curses with a groan, head dropping back for a moment before he looks back down at you with a lazy smirk.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you gag on my dick, sweetheart.”
You whine, your hips grinding back against nothing, the cool breeze of his room sending shivers up your spine when it graces the wet heat of your cunt. Around you, scattered on the bed, are the many polaroids you had just discovered earlier. Snapped photos of you in bed, in the shower, getting dressed in your room; all images that would’ve sent anyone else running for the hills. Eddie was so sure you would never speak to him again when you found that box full of all things you, but to his surprise (and sinful delight), you were just as fucked up as Eddie, if not more.
Eddie’s eyes dart all over the bed; polaroids, lace panties and matching bras, dainty jewelry, lipsticks, and perfume bottles. Eddie Munson was a perverted thief, and it somehow landed him balls deep down your throat. 
He reaches down and picks up a particular Polaroid, one of his favorites; a picture of you laid on your stomach in your bed, one leg hiked up to form a comfortable sleeping position. You’d forgone your sleeping shorts this night, and Eddie took it upon himself to jack off and cover your ass in sticky ropes of his cum, snapping a photo as the white substance dripped down between the folds of your ass to stain your pretty panties (Eddie stole those panties that same night).
He takes the picture and holds it up between two fingers. “So many nights of wasted cum… you’ve got a lot to make up for, sweet girl.” His voice is low and teasing, and you whine against him, nuzzling his cock further down your throat until your nose brushes against the curly hairs surrounding his base.
Eddie’s knuckles are tight against your scalp when he pulls you off his cock, shivering at the wet gasp you take, bleary eyes blinking up at him as your spit drips onto his thighs. “Think you’ve been good enough for it?” He wraps a hand around himself and rubs his throbbing tip against your lips, humming in approval when you open your mouth to offer your tongue. He slaps himself against your tongue a few times, chuckling when you whine and squeeze your thighs together. You can feel the sticky feeling of his cum and your arousal sliding against the insides of your hot thighs, and your eyes roll at the sensation. You lean forward and nuzzle against his cock, “Please, Eds— want it so bad. I’ve been so good, I have.” Your words are nearly slurred; the only thing on your mind is the overwhelming urge you have to feel Eddie’s cum in the back of your throat.
You don’t see Eddie reaching for his camera, too focused on licking your way down to his balls. “Fuck— look at me, sweetheart, give me those pretty eyes.”
You slowly blink up at Eddie, wet lashes fluttering and pouty lips grazing his cock as you gaze at the camera. A flash and a snapping sound echo through the room before a white card come out the bottom, a curse falling from Eddie’s lips as he shakes the paper and tosses it to the side for later. He nods down towards you, “Love on it, baby; show me how much you love my cock.” You don’t wait for another second, licking a thick stripe up his cock, rounding your lips around his tip to suck eagerly. Eddie takes another picture, and you whine.
“Shit, I’m gonna come— keep sucking baby, keep taking me in.”
You shuffle forward, nose brushing against his pelvis once again, and Eddie takes it as permission to secure a hand atop your head and begin fucking himself into the back of your throat. Both of your hands are fisted into the sheets below you, watery eyes gazing up at the blissed-out Eddie above you. His hips falter during the last few thrusts; he doesn’t last much longer. 
“I’m gonna come… don’t swallow, okay?” You nod as best as you can, and without further directions, Eddie’s cum floods your mouth until you nearly choke on it. 
He pulls out of your mouth with a moan, instructing you to open your mouth and show him your tongue, which you immediately obey. He reaches for the camera once more, snapping one picture with you on all fours, gazing up at the camera with your tongue out, white sticky cum coating the inside of your mouth. He takes a second picture, this time with his hand cradling your jaw. The third and last picture he takes is with his hand still cradling your jaw, but his thumb is now pressed against your tongue, smearing his sticky mess across your tastebuds.
And when he tosses the newly printed photos into the pile of new Polaroids, he catches a glimpse of one clear picture of your pussy freshly fucked and covered in his cum. Eddie can’t help it when his cock twitches against his thigh once again.
It’s safe to say that Eddie had to get a new box the next day <3
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habken · 1 year
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this guy <3
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nickandros · 11 months
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why is it that the kind of people who often choose to host heated poll battles are almost always the kinds of people who can not handle being exposed to opinions than their own. it's like judging a cake bake off except you can't eat sugar.
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earlgodwin · 23 days
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I don't want Naples yet. I want my sister.
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satoruhour · 7 months
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sliding down a wall in agony over gojo and his undercut rn.... wanna run my hands across it and then pull on his hair while he's eating pussy i'm SOO NORMAL OMG
a/n: OH MY GOD ! peep i have a fluffy drabble of it here muahahaha
warnings: fem!reader, making out, fingering, oral (f! receiving), clit stimulation, implied multiple rounds, n*sfw under the cut
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gojo sighs when you meet his lips after a long day. he hasn’t even gotten past the genkan when you’re already leaning forward to engulf him in your love. without effort, he removes his shoes while wrapping his arms around you. no words are exchanged; you know it’s been a long day for satoru from the way his shoulders sag and he doesn’t greet you with the happiest of tones.
he silently walks you into your shared home, humming into your lips as his initial stress and frustration subsides into love and he brings your arms around his neck. he uses his tongue to nudge your lips and you willingly open your mouth, letting him play with your tongue as the kiss turns sloppy.
you let him have his way, hands feeling all up your body as he mutters something equivalent to jump and you pull away briefly to admire his swollen glossy lips and his tousled hair. you hop into his arms and moan softly at the hands on your ass, fingers knowing where to go even though you were so damn engrossed in locking lips with him.
they tug off his blindfold and his hair comes tumbling down, fingertips digging into the back of his head. they’re as short as always, prickly strands that feel oddly blunt from how much you run your hand over it everyday. from there, your hand massages the back of his head and it quells his headache briefly. gojo sighs and releases your lips with a soft ‘pop’, kissing down your neck as you continue to glide your hand over the fuzzy hairs and back up. with a soft tug on his strands, his mouth drops in a silenced gasp.
“oh yeah . . feel good?” you whisper, so fragile with gojo’s love that if you speak even a decibel above that you fear you might break the tension. gojo nods, going back to sucking on your neck while you play with his hair, but his way of distressing involves stripping you down, too—
with hushed praises against your physique, satoru pecks his way down your body, giving attention to all your sensitive areas before coming right down to your cunt. there’s already a wet patch that is soaked through the fabric, and for the first time that night, your lover speaks.
“so pretty f’r me, always . .” it’s a little raspy from the lack of use, but you know he’s about to go back into wordless groans by the way he peels away your underwear and sighs at your wetness. gojo licks off your arousal from your panties with a small grin, a glint in his eyes that suggests he can’t let a drop go to waste.
the fabric is across the room by then and your legs trapped in his upper arms, tongue drawing out the sweetest moans from you as he gives your clit teasing kitten licks.
“baby— b-baby . . satoru—” all he does is flit his eyes to you, deep blues staring you down below his stark white lashes and he holds it. even as you squirm around on the couch and dig your heels into his back, he doesn’t waver. he then gathers some saliva and spits onto your pussy, rubbing it in with a whimper — it’s all he can do when you continue to leak arousal.
“s’good, your tongue’s so— f-fuck!” more and more and more, you drip onto the sofa that again, he takes his curious tongue and licks it right up from your asshole and collects every drop of your nectar. he slurps it all up before he starts his merciless assault.
gojo gets all in there, eating you out like a starved man and slobbering over your cunt, flicking and sucking at your clit over and over to the point where you don’t know where you are. the grasping hands on the sofa does nothing, so you settle instead for his hair. they feel much much different now, the short hairs of his undercut feeling sharp and vivid through your fingertips because of how sensitive your body was. his eyes flutter close, upper body pushed into your pelvis so eagerly.
your hands stall for a bit when you notice satoru is grinding down onto the sofa — your pussy tastes so good it has gojo satoru humping whatever for some relief — but your focus is back again when he prods at your hole with a finger. with one swift push, he inserts it and the wandering hands all over his undercut moves up to pull.
gojo moans into your cunt at the intoxicating and burning feeling on his scalp, finger pumping faster in you that it has you closing your thighs around him. he’s too drunk on your pussy to care that he’s coming up short of breath, letting you ride his tongue. your fingers card through his hair, tugging, releasing, tugging, it’s an endless cycle that drags him into your cunt over and over.
“close— c— g-god!” you moan out loud, head thrown back and vision turning white once he plunges his second finger into your cunt and you clamp down on him so tightly that gojo has trouble pistoning them into you. there’s a mantra of his name on your lips as you pull the harshest you’ve ever done to his hair, the other gripping the back of the couch. you grind your hips into his relentless mouth, hearing yourself drip down his chin as you cum all over his face.
“pretty, pretty pussy . . mmhm . .” satoru mumbles, fixated on how his fingers disappear in you, “can you give me another, darling?” his lids are hooded and he’s sleepy and it’s clear he isn’t talking to you. when he starts to pump his fingers again, the lewd sclick! that sounds out makes him lick his lips, “thaat’s the answer i want . .”
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cheatsylu · 28 days
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I saw your request thing at the bottom of your Hyrule and Wild drawing! Could you also draw Wars and Twilight being silly? I feel like they should get the chance to be idiots together
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Who supplied them with the famous xxx beverage? I want a word with you
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scarrletmoon · 7 months
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okay i know the Discourse™️ has been going on for way too long at this point, but
i think some people outside of the OFMD fandom don’t actually get why we’re particularly annoying about this show
OFMD is not the first queer show to ever exist. if anything, it's a late entry in decades of queer media. over a year and a half since the first few episodes aired, everyone knows that OFMD is queer. that doesn't make it particularly special
but back in March? this is the trailer that dropped in February of 2022, 2 weeks before the premier. if you're used to seeing queer chemistry in shows that aren't intended to be queer, you might see the hints between Ed and Stede here. but to most people? it's just a silly little pirate comedy. just guys being dudes. the trailer doesn't even hint at the other 2 canonical queer relationships in the show -- the closest it gets suggesting romance is the music and the pink in the poster
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so when people watched this show in March 2022, they went into it expecting subtext and nothing else. to them, it was like watching Sherlock or Supernatural or Merlin in the 2010s. if you were in any of those fandoms -- especially Sherlock and Supernatural -- you know what it was like; constant jokes at our expense, being mocked for creating explicit fanwork, made fun of by the creators and within the show itself. if we saw queer subtext, that was our problem. this was a time when you pretended NOT to be in fandom, for fear of ridicule. we kept our fanwork to ourselves, we DID NOT share it with the cast, and we accepted that our favourite ships would probably never be canon. maybe one day, if we were lucky, we'd have a show where the subtext wasn't mockery as much as deliberate foreshadowing -- but that had to be YEARS away
right?
OFMD was never billed as a queer show, not in the beginning. there was no LGBTQ+ tag on (HBO) Max, it wasn't on anyone's list of upcoming queer shows in 2022, it flew under the radar through most of its first season. this was a show about pirates, and sure, some of them were queer. but not the LEADS. if you think they're romantically involved, that's must be fandom brain poisoning
except the 9th episode aired, and they kissed. and the show said "you're not crazy for thinking they have chemistry because they really do. it's been a romance this whole time". and in the 10th episode, Stede realizes that he's in love
(not mandating you watch this clip if you don't care for the show, but there's something that feels particularly earth shattering about no one saying the word gay but knowing that Stede's realizing he is, that it's completely unambiguous and explicit in a way that only straight romances are usually allowed to be)
this is why people freaked out about this show. no one knew. even the creator, David Jenkins, was surprised when WE were surprised that it was gay for real -- he set out to write a love story, using all the tried and true beats of a rom com. he'd never even heard of the term queerbaiting. he looked at historical Blackbeard and Stede Bonnet and thought "oh, there's something here" and just...wrote that, with very little fanfare, like it was inevitable. like it was obvious. of course Jim and Pam end up together. of course Buttercup and Westley end up together. what kind of disappointing ending would it be if You've Got Mail ended with the main characters just going their separate ways?
so of course Ed and Stede are in love
look, i get it. we're annoying and won't shut the fuck up about this show that seems mediocre at best. i watched the whole thing back in march, thought "huh, that was cool" and was sure that i'd forget about it in a few days
an hour after looking at fanart on twitter, i was lost in the fucking sauce
there's just so much to unpack from a mere 10 episodes. it covers racism, toxic masculinity, gender expression, sexuality, trauma and abuse. and i don't think we should overlook the fact that the non-white characters in this show get to be fully human in a way i haven't seen in my favourite shows in recent memory
additionally, most OFMD are 25 or older. we're not people who've been spoiled by queer rep, who don't get how hard it used to be, how you'd have to grovel for scraps, how shipping and fanfiction was a way to find queer rep where we thought there never would be. we've been here. we're annoying about this show because for a lot of us, it's the first time we've been treated like our queerness isn't an anomaly that needs to be relegated to its own section, that needs to be praised for the bare minimum of acknowledging that we exist. it's not pulling punches to avoid scaring away a straight audience. it just is.
OFMD for me is like when i watched Black Panther for the first time and realized that this is what white people felt all the time. have there been other black superhero movies? of course! does Disney fucking suck? BOY does it. but that was the first time i got to sit in a movie theater and watch a mainstream film that looked at Africa and said "look at how beautiful you are, exactly as you are"
and idk. i think that's really cool
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