#this shit knocked the wind out of me
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hi, im going down a rabbit hole for a video essay, did you happen to run the turbotasticasks blog back in 2012???
SCREAMS if you've managed to connect me to A TURBO ask blog in 20 fucking 24 that is insane....
I DID run a Turbo ask blog on deviantArt back in 2012
I hadn't checked on it in ages but there are some SOLID STUPID ASS POSTS i was fucking obsessed with his ugly ass as a 14 year old (still am tbh) and I didn't realize how many goddamn pageviews this page got holy christ
There were quite a few Turbo ask blogs on dA at the time, and I was more of a crack/shitposting Turbo, so my version was off the shits insane. Eventually, the fandom died, and I moved onto Homestuck around late 2013 early 2014 and also started using tumblr more than dA! I had some great memories of shitposting, rping on the chatboards, and answering the few questions I did in the short amount of time the fandom was alive
We got some great hits in this crusty era... including but not limited to:
"I'm okay..."
And
Turbo selfcest à la 2012 tumblr sexymen ask account selfcest shipping .... THE REAL OGS REMEMBER
WE were very chummy with the onceler fandom. You could imagine the relationship between these 2 sexymen selfcest shipping fandoms to be like the unbreakable bond between early 2011-2013 era homestuck and hetalia fandoms... very very good memories indeed...
My original tumblr username was like @im-turbo-fucking-tastic and I mostly lurked and rbed art back then! I wasn't the most confident posting art on tumblr at the time (it was new and scary and full of cool older people) and it wouldn't rly be until around 2016/2017 when the homestuck obsession came back in full swing, grabbed me by the cock and swung me into a high voltage line
If you have ANY OTHER QUESTIONS, feel free to pester me. I'd love to see what you're working on!!!! I MISS THE WRECK IT RALPH FANDOM SO MUCHHHHH
Thank you for the ask <3 XD
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GOOD FOR HIM?? I THINK???
#like i gotta learn that this is NOT a show i can have on in the background. this shit requires my full undevided attention#the finale absolutely knocked the wind out of me too. but in a good way!!#mismag#mismag 2#misfits and magic 2#misfits and magic#dropout#dropout TV#dimension 20#d20#sfw#comic#sketch#artists on tumblr#this was just a little warmup sketch but i had to get my emotions out somehow. because what the FUCK/pos
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December you rotten cunt. You will not get the best of me
#the heron speaketh#i feel. so not good today. mentally#i sense i will be feeling off kilter for the forseeable future#the first of the month really knocked the wind out of me god how is it december already#but we will persevere because i have shit to look forward to next year. im just not gonna feel good the entire time i think
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i would actually slit my own throat if i ever get to see long haired max verstappen
#i would give up my kidneys for this to happen#he looks majestic#holy shit#like the wind is knocked out of me rn guys#he looks perfect#oh god i need him#like it's actually a physical pain in my chest#oh fuck me#i am on the verge of insanity#max verstappen#mv1#mv33
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"let me be clear, there is nowhere you need me that can keep me from you."
AABRIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaa..aaaa..*runs out of breath*
#there's at least one line in every wbn episode that knocks the wind out of me#that shit got me#thanks quiddie#wbn#wbn pod#worlds beyond number#wbn wwwo#wwwo#the wizard the witch and the wild one#suvi the wizard#suvirin kedberiket#the wizard sky#aabria iyengar
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there is something so special about self fulfilling prophecies
#txt#i woke up early this morning to take advantage of the good weather after the hurricane left#because i tried to get a skate in yesterday. failed miserably. and made it a maintenance day instead. and had to adjust my wheels.#anyways everyone else thought that as well because there was a lot more people on my route than usual so early in the morning#and i was like 3/4ths of the way through my route and there was this really pretty woman with preformance fans that were flowing so prettily#in the high winds with a cute traditional dress dancing and then i promptly ate shit staring at her because i was trying to slow down#but the winds knocked me off balance and i couldnt catch myself in time because of said staring and realised a little too late she was#filming and she finished her dance stopped filming and turned to me in utter disbelief as she smiled like#YOU COULD JUST PASS BY??? YOU DONT NEED TO STOP??? because she thought i stopped because i didnt want to mess up her video#and i didnt have the heart to tell i only noticed after i was kneeling on the floor waiting for her to finish that i even saw her tripod#and i was like nono!! youre good its okay!!! im okay 👍!!! and scuttled off and went honestly this is what i get for wearing the tank#i got at pride today of all days like this one is on me ive fufilled the prophecy i never wear it out because the sun is a ferocious thing#and the last time i did my shoulders burned pretty bad even with sunscreen but i had a hoodie ontop because it was windy today#and i thought oh its fine itll be fine. chat never change your habits and routines. superstitions are real. and the gods will punish you.#anyways why self fulfilling prophecy. well if you guessed the tank had the best buy logo but instead of “buy” it replaces it with “bi”#youd be correct. and also the disaster bi allegations are very strong with this one.#anyways im think im just afflicted with dumb shit happening when im in the middle of the route because last time a guy did chat me up#while i was resting and invited me back to his hotel room after i yapped his ear off about the pantrs#and i didnt say it but i did turn it down because... the cats were playing in like 2 hours so...#or like that other time-#okay you know what i do have to stop
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baby’s first file not saving correctly after working very hard on a commission
#god im angry#its animated too#it was turning out so good#now i have to redo a bunch of it#not before i take a break from it for a few days holy shit that knocked the wind out of me
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Can finally rest easy now I don't have to wistfully think about never having a chance to get this skin anymore.
#text#Okay which OW dev is looking at my account. I have some other things to request-#LOL.#Aight back to bed this shit knocked the wind out of me.
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Back on my bullshit answer my questions
while doing some rudimentary research for this poll it has come to my attention that pins and needles are a feeling felt while the limb is asleep, not the period of intense sensation/tingling/sensitivity experienced while it comes back online. or maybe it's both? the stuff i read referred to it as tingling that happens while the limb is pinned/under pressure/numb. i cannot find anything that references what i have come to think of as "the agony" but ive referred to it as the pins and needles in the options for this poll anyway.
Mild: limb has muted sensation but can be moved and used carefully, pins and needles begin almost immediately after limb is moved from whatever position caused it to fall asleep. Pins and needles not painful and do not appear painful, and last a few seconds, person affected is capable of speech and moving other parts of their body during pins and needles, which last a few seconds.
Middle intensity: limb is numb or partially numb and can twitch but not be moved precisely. Pins and needles begin a few seconds after limb is unpinned or when it is moved. Pins and needles not painful but intense and appear uncomfortable, taking a lot of the affected person's attention/capacity. they last between 5 and 7 seconds.
Intense: limb is numb and cannot move/be used, pins and needles begin 5-7 seconds after the limb is unpinned. pins and needles are intense and may be painful or not painful but 'unbearable', causing the affected person to cry out, grimace, or otherwise appear to be in pain. Person cannot speak or move their other limbs during pins and needles, which last 10 or more seconds (without shaking) and have residual tingling for a few seconds after limb regains movement/becomes bearable to move
obviously this all depends on how long the limb was pinned but just answer whichever is the most common for you, and if you want you can put in the tags what positions make your limbs go numb/how you deal.
#polls#poll#tell me your secrets#idk i was just shaking out my hand but im sick/tired rn so i was actively crying out and was thinking#that limbs falling asleep/pins and needles are a very common and intensely unpleasant experience#and its kinda fuckin weird that we as a society dont talk about it more#and that it can be brushed off or be a single line in books n stuff#and like theres a lot of things that get done dirty in books for how intense/scary/dangerous they are irl#like the first time i got the wind knocked out of me and thought i was dying cause its only ever described as#getting the wind knocked out of you#rather than you can't feel the air coming in and out of your lungs#and the only way you can tell youre not dying is that you aren't experiencing air hunger#which can happen when you are dying in certain situations so fuck if i know#and like headrush like i see new colors/lose track of reality/twitch or faint when its real bad and in books its always like#a bout of dizzyness or some shit#and before i get called out yea i know what an iron deficiency is#also rip to all book characters who've been knocked out for several hours after a head injury or passed out from blood loss lol#anyway#then theres shit like my psycosomatic faux asthma symptoms or swallowing issure or the foot thing that are unique to me as far as i can tel#and boy howdy does that suck shit#but to conclude#bodies are weird why dont you tell me how yours works.
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Muse Theme Challenge (Instrumental)
Main Theme - Save Room - Resident Evil 2 Remake OST
Danger Theme - Sky Islands (Threat) - Rain World OST
Battle Theme - The Nest - The Last Guardian OST
Boss Theme - Laboratory Hunt - Lost World Jurassic Park: PS1
Emotional Theme - Creature of the Night - Batman: Arkham Knight
#🦇 || dashboard games#🦇 || memes#🦇 || soundtracks#Stole this from... gnarledbite I think?#It's been a while#Struggling to focus because ADHD wants to do all the things#So winding down with a bit of music so I know where to begin#Here's to annoying you all with my horrible taste in music <3#Okay but these tracks make me so emotional???#Main theme and emotional are more suited to Kirk while the dangerous themes are absolutely Man-Bat#But main and emotional can apply to Man-Bat too#Just some fun stuff while I knock out some responses#Tried a long drabble on my OC but tumblr won't post long stuff anymore#I'm crying bc of the wasted effort shsgdsgfd#ADHD LEAVE ME ALONEEEEEEEEEE#Oh yeah tagging all you shits if you wanna do this meme btw!#Edited a song bc I remembered a better one ajshdh
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being friends with someone who constantly throws pity parties for themselves is fucking exhausting.
#this isn't about anyone that follows me here or that i follow here.#but i have a friend in a group where just..... every time someone says something good about us as a group#they feel the need to put themselves down on main and interrupt the conversation.#it's fucking tiring.#the comment was 'i can't believe we're all academics' and i responded 'it's wild but great'#and then they just go 'i feel really dumb but i guess i'm an academic sometimes' and then the convo gets derailed#like the two of us were literally celebrating that we're all nerdy academics together but now it's managing their emotions on how stupid-#-they feel.#i am so tired. this happens all the time.#i get it. i get it. when i had horrid self-esteem (as if i don't have that now) i felt the need to do this#but like. it's not productive and it's killed the vibe. and i wish they would knock it off but it's unfortunately a pattern of behavior#that happens all the time. and i wish i knew what to do about it bc it's getting on my nerves.#like i said. nobody here is doing this. this is a different person. if you think it's about you No It Isn't#(and if you think you know who i'm talking about no you don't)#idk i just wind up in the position of talking them down all the time and trying to steer them in a more positive direction#and i'm running out of energy for it and it's wearing on me.#they're fun to talk to sometimes but i think over the last few years i've turned into their therapist friend.#'how do i ask someone out' 'do i drop my crush bc i haven't confessed and they aren't acting the way i'd hoped'#'why do i feel like shit all the time' idk man stop fucking asking me#i'm not cut out for this. One Single Class stressed me out so badly i wound up in therapy again. like. i'm Unqualified.#and i'm dissatisfied that i'm stuck in this role and idk how to get out of it
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it is so so so surreal seeing vibrant, active (if sometimes small) fanbases for things i was super into as a child/teenager that i had little to No online community to participate in, either because it didn't exist (or barely existed) or i couldn't allow myself to engage in Gay Stuff back when i was repressing everything
it is this weird sort of psychic damage and psychic healing immediately canceling each other out every time i see really dramatic and/or gay fanart for like anim@ niacs or h/2/g2 or whatever, it's like strangers (or sometimes mutuals hello! this is a positive post!) are pulling images out of my brain ages 12 to 17
#this post brought to you by the fanart i'm about to reblog#im disabling reblogs on this bc i dont want it escaping containment and looking like im shitting on other people for having fun#i want to be absolutely clear i think its Great that people are doing this it just personally knocks the wind out of me lmao#me: oh this fanart is good! [suddenly hyperaware of the passage of time] :) oh no#i like running into it though i think#sometimes i do look for it just to see whats happening
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earlier i woke up and it took me ages to figure out if the christmas train is real (it wasn't)
#I went thru so much shit in that dream#accidentally locked myself out of my house in the snow with no one home in my pyjamas#bc I was trying to find the perfect kpop song for my oc animatic and thought it was a good idea to look in the CHRISTMAS TRAIN#then debates taking the CHRISTMAS TRAIN to town square but none of my friends would be there to hang out with me#also my pyjamas were fucking ugly. bought an apple from the train vendor but it was rotten so fuck that#had to climb in thru the window and knocked over a bunch of my mom's decor#found really swag clothes in my closet and at the same time briefly remembered I'm dreaming#long enough to get sad that I don't actually own those clothes!#went on youtube and accidentally somehow uploaded an entire movie#later went back to delete it (after i thought i woke up but didn't it was just another dream)#and saw some old dude commented thanking me for the upload but telling me I should prolly delete it before I get in trouble#try to delete it but also have to deal with huge wind turbines . AGAIN. WHY ARE THEY A THEME IN MY DREAMS?#eventually wake up and can't remember if the christmas train is real until now#wish it was :/
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#this has truly been the most Monday coded monday i've ever experienced#first i wake up and learn 1) my bus isnt running so i have to change plans and wfh#2) the water main break ruining my commute also cut off water to my entire condo complex#then the water proceeds to be out for the entire day so i cannot go pee i cannot wash dishes nothing#so i go to my parents house (rly glad i still live close to them in this moment)#and have dinner wash my face brush my teeth etc there#get back to my apt and ofc the water's still off so my regular cat care gets screwy#(im sorry i will not clean the boxes if i cant wash my hands. it can wait a day.)#then ofc i cant sleep which ultimately is maybe a good thing bc THEN#my building's alarm starts going off at like ~10:30pm#first off it took me a solid 5-10 minutes to realize that it was a fire alarm (?) not someone's like security system or smth#it was weird it was like a constant blare instead of the usual rythmic screeching#anyway so i then find myself outside freezing my ass off for a good 30+ minutes while the fire dept comes and investigates the building nd#ig finds nothing wrong??#so fine w/e get back to my apt try to start re-winding down to sleep#not effectively ofc#then my god damn cat#who has a FIXATION on my vanity to the point that i have it barricaded#with various crap to try nd keep her from knocking things off and scratching the mirror#she at 11:30pm decides to LAUNCH at it knocking absolutely everything down#so i have to get up again to pick all the shit up#so now here i am :)) tired but cant sleep at almost midnight and the damn cat is still zooming#im gna be so miserable tmrw pray 4 me#oh and even tho the water's back we're now under a boil water notice or w/e so i fear im gna need to pick up a gallon or two of water tmrw#and like the notice says u can shower and wash and whatnot normally#but im v scared that if i wash my face - or hair or anything really - my skin is gonna freak tf out#it's been a day#feels like a bad omen i fear
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Twenty years ago, February 15th, 2004, I got married for the first time.
It was twenty years earlier than I ever expected to.
To celebrate/comemorate the date, I'm sitting down to write out everything I remember as I remember it. No checking all the pictures I took or all the times I've written about this before. I'm not going to turn to my husband (of twenty years, how the f'ing hell) to remember a detail for me.
This is not a 100% accurate recounting of that first wild weekend in San Francisco. But it -is- a 100% accurate recounting of how I remember it today, twenty years after the fact.
Join me below, if you would.
2004 was an election year, and much like conservatives are whipping up anti-trans hysteria and anti-trans bills and propositions to drive out the vote today, in 2004 it was all anti-gay stuff. Specifically, preventing the evil scourge of same-sex marriage from destroying everything good and decent in the world.
Enter Gavin Newstrom. At the time, he was the newly elected mayor of San Francisco. Despite living next door to the city all my life, I hadn’t even heard of the man until Valentines Day 2004 when he announced that gay marriage was legal in San Francisco and started marrying people at city hall.
It was a political stunt. It was very obviously a political stunt. That shit was illegal, after all. But it was a very sweet political stunt. I still remember the front page photo of two ancient women hugging each other forehead to forehead and crying happy tears.
But it was only going to last for as long as it took for the California legal system to come in and make them knock it off.
The next day, we’re on the phone with an acquaintance, and she casually mentions that she’s surprised the two of us aren’t up at San Francisco getting married with everyone else.
“Everyone else?” Goes I, “I thought they would’ve shut that down already?”
“Oh no!” goes she, “The courts aren’t open until Tuesday. Presidents Day on Monday and all. They’re doing them all weekend long!”
We didn’t know because social media wasn’t a thing yet. I only knew as much about it as I’d read on CNN, and most of the blogs I was following were more focused on what bullshit President George W Bush was up to that day.
"Well shit", me and my man go, "do you wanna?" I mean, it’s a political stunt, it wont really mean anything, but we’re not going to get another chance like this for at least 20 years. Why not?
The next day, Sunday, we get up early. We drive north to the southern-most BART station. We load onto Bay Area Rapid Transit, and rattle back and forth all the way to the San Francisco City Hall stop.
We had slightly miscalculated.
Apparently, demand for marriages was far outstripping the staff they had on hand to process them. Who knew. Everyone who’d gotten turned away Saturday had been given tickets with times to show up Sunday to get their marriages done. My babe and I, we could either wait to see if there was a space that opened up, or come back the next day, Monday.
“Isn’t City Hall closed on Monday?” I asked. “It’s a holiday”
“Oh sure,” they reply, “but people are allowed to volunteer their time to come in and work on stuff anyways. And we have a lot of people who want to volunteer their time to have the marriage licensing offices open tomorrow.”
“Oh cool,” we go, “Backup.”
“Make sure you’re here if you do,” they say, “because the California Supreme Court is back in session Tuesday, and will be reviewing the motion that got filed to shut us down.”
And all this shit is super not-legal, so they’ll totally be shutting us down goes unsaid.
00000
We don’t get in Saturday. We wind up hanging out most of the day, though.
It’s… incredible. I can say, without hyperbole, that I have never experienced so much concentrated joy and happiness and celebration of others’ joy and happiness in all my life before or since. My face literally ached from grinning. Every other minute, a new couple was coming out of City Hall, waving their paperwork to the crowd and cheering and leaping and skipping. Two glorious Latina women in full Mariachi band outfits came out, one in the arms of another. A pair of Jewish boys with their families and Rabbi. One couple managed to get a Just Married convertible arranged complete with tin-cans tied to the bumper to drive off in. More than once I was giving some rice to throw at whoever was coming out next.
At some point in the mid-afternoon, there was a sudden wave of extra cheering from the several hundred of us gathered at the steps, even though no one was coming out. There was a group going up the steps to head inside, with some generic black-haired shiny guy at the front. My not-yet-husband nudged me, “That’s Newsom.” He said, because he knew I was hopeless about matching names and people.
Ooooooh, I go. That explains it. Then I joined in the cheers. He waved and ducked inside.
So dusk is starting to fall. It’s February, so it’s only six or so, but it’s getting dark.
“Should we just try getting in line for tomorrow -now-?” we ask.
“Yeah, I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible.” One of the volunteers tells us. “We’re not allowed to have people hang out overnight like this unless there are facilities for them and security. We’d need Porta-Poties for a thousand people and police patrols and the whole lot, and no one had time to get all that organized. Your best bet is to get home, sleep, and then catch the first BART train up at 5am and keep your fingers crossed.
Monday is the last day to do this, after all.
00000
So we go home. We crash out early. We wake up at 4:00. We drive an hour to hit the BART station. We get the first train up. We arrive at City Hall at 6:30AM.
The line stretches around the entirety of San Francisco City Hall. You could toss a can of Coke from the end of the line to the people who’re up to be first through the doors and not have to worry about cracking it open after.
“Uh.” We go. “What the fuck is -this-?”
So.
Remember why they weren’t going to be able to have people hang out overnight?
Turns out, enough SF cops were willing to volunteer unpaid time to do patrols to cover security. And some anonymous person delivered over a dozen Porta-Poties that’d gotten dropped off around 8 the night before.
It’s 6:30 am, there are almost a thousand people in front of us in line to get this literal once in a lifetime marriage, the last chance we expect to have for at least 15 more years (it was 2004, gay rights were getting shoved back on every front. It was not looking good. We were just happy we lived in California were we at least weren’t likely to loose job protections any time soon.).
Then it starts to rain.
We had not dressed for rain.
00000
Here is how the next six hours go.
We’re in line. Once the doors open at 7am, it will creep forward at a slow crawl. It’s around 7 when someone shows up with garbage bags for everyone. Cut holes for the head and arms and you’ve got a makeshift raincoat! So you’ve got hundreds of gays and lesbians decked out in the nicest shit they could get on short notice wearing trashbags over it.
Everyone is so happy.
Everyone is so nervous/scared/frantic that we wont be able to get through the doors before they close for the day.
People online start making delivery orders.
Coffee and bagels are ordered in bulk and delivered to City Hall for whoever needs it. We get pizza. We get roses. Random people come by who just want to give hugs to people in line because they’re just so happy for us. The tour busses make detours to go past the lines. Chinese tourists lean out with their cameras and shout GOOD LUCK while car horns honk.
A single sad man holding a Bible tries to talk people out of doing this, tells us all we’re sinning and to please don’t. He gives up after an hour. A nun replaces him with a small sign about how this is against God’s will. She leaves after it disintegrates in the rain.
The day before, when it was sunny, there had been a lot of protestors. Including a large Muslim group with their signs about how “Not even DOGS do such things!” Which… Yes they do.
A lot of snide words are said (by me) about how the fact that we’re willing to come out in the rain to do this while they’re not willing to come out in the rain to protest it proves who actually gives an actual shit about the topic.
Time passes. I measure it based on which side of City Hall we’re on. The doors face East. We start on Northside. Coffee and trashbags are delivered when we’re on the North Side. Pizza first starts showing up when we’re on Westside, which is also where I see Bible Man and Nun. Roses are delivered on Southside. And so forth.
00000
We have Line Neighbors.
Ahead of us are a gay couple a decade or two older than us. They’ve been together for eight years. The older one is a school teacher. He has his coat collar up and turns away from any news cameras that come near while we reposition ourselves between the lenses and him. He’s worried about the parents of one of his students seeing him on the news and getting him fired. The younger one will step away to get interviewed on his own later on. They drove down for the weekend once they heard what was going on. They’d started around the same time we did, coming from the Northeast, and are parked in a nearby garage.
The most perky energetic joyful woman I’ve ever met shows up right after we turned the corner to Southside to tackle the younger of the two into a hug. She’s their local friend who’d just gotten their message about what they’re doing and she will NOT be missing this. She is -so- happy for them. Her friends cry on her shoulders at her unconditional joy.
Behind us are a lesbian couple who’d been up in San Francisco to celebrate their 12th anniversary together. “We met here Valentines Day weekend! We live down in San Diego, now, but we like to come up for the weekend because it’s our first love city.”
“Then they announced -this-,” the other one says, “and we can’t leave until we get married. I called work Sunday and told them I calling in sick until Wednesday.”
“I told them why,” her partner says, “I don’t care if they want to give me trouble for it. This is worth it. Fuck them.”
My husband-to-be and I look at each other. We’ve been together for not even two years at this point. Less than two years. Is it right for us to be here? We’re potentially taking a spot from another couple that’d been together longer, who needed it more, who deserved it more.”
“Don’t you fucking dare.” Says the 40-something gay couple in front of us.
“This is as much for you as it is for us!” says the lesbian couple who’ve been together for over a decade behind us.
“You kids are too cute together,” says the gay couple’s friend. “you -have- to. Someday -you’re- going to be the old gay couple that’s been together for years and years, and you deserve to have been married by then.”
We stay in line.
It’s while we’re on the Southside of City Hall, just about to turn the corner to Eastside at long last that we pick up our own companions. A white woman who reminds me an awful lot of my aunt with a four year old black boy riding on her shoulders. “Can we say we’re with you? His uncles are already inside and they’re not letting anyone in who isn’t with a couple right there.” “Of course!” we say.
The kid is so very confused about what all the big deal is, but there’s free pizza and the busses keep driving by and honking, so he’s having a great time.
We pass by a statue of Lincoln with ‘Marriage for All!’ and "Gay Rights are Human Rights!" flags tucked in the crooks of his arms and hanging off his hat.
It’s about noon, noon-thirty when we finally make it through the doors and out of the rain.
They’ve promised that anyone who’s inside when the doors shut will get married. We made it. We’re safe.
We still have a -long- way to go.
00000
They’re trying to fit as many people into City Hall as possible. Partially to get people out of the rain, mostly to get as many people indoors as possible. The line now stretches down into the basement and up side stairs and through hallways I’m not entirely sure the public should ever be given access to. We crawl along slowly but surely.
It’s after we’ve gone through the low-ceiling basement hallways past offices and storage and back up another set of staircases and are going through a back hallway of low-ranked functionary offices that someone comes along handing out the paperwork. “It’s an hour or so until you hit the office, but take the time to fill these out so you don’t have to do it there!”
We spend our time filling out the paperwork against walls, against backs, on stone floors, on books.
We enter one of the public areas, filled with displays and photos of City Hall Demonstrations of years past.
I take pictures of the big black and white photo of the Abraham Lincoln statue holding banners and signs against segregation and for civil rights.
The four year old boy we helped get inside runs past us around this time, chased by a blond haired girl about his own age, both perused by an exhausted looking teenager helplessly begging them to stop running.
Everyone is wet and exhausted and vibrating with anticipation and the building-wide aura of happiness that infuses everything.
The line goes into the marriage office. A dozen people are at the desk, shoulder to shoulder, far more than it was built to have working it at once.
A Sister of Perpetual Indulgence is directing people to city officials the moment they open up. She’s done up in her nun getup with all her makeup on and her beard is fluffed and be-glittered and on point. “Oh, I was here yesterday getting married myself, but today I’m acting as your guide. Number 4 sweeties, and -Congradulatiooooons!-“
The guy behind the counter has been there since six. It’s now 1:30. He’s still giddy with joy. He counts our money. He takes our paperwork, reviews it, stamps it, sends off the parts he needs to, and hands the rest back to us. “Alright, go to the Rotunda, they’ll direct you to someone who’ll do the ceremony. Then, if you want the certificate, they’ll direct you to -that- line.” “Can’t you just mail it to us?” “Normally, yeah, but the moment the courts shut us down, we’re not going to be allowed to.”
We take our paperwork and join the line to the Rotunda.
If you’ve seen James Bond: A View to a Kill, you’ve seen the San Francisco City Hall Rotunda. There are literally a dozen spots set up along the balconies that overlook the open area where marriage officials and witnesses are gathered and are just processing people through as fast as they can.
That’s for the people who didn’t bring their own wedding officials.
There’s a Catholic-adjacent couple there who seem to have brought their entire families -and- the priest on the main steps. They’re doing the whole damn thing. There’s at least one more Rabbi at work, I can’t remember what else. Just that there was a -lot-.
We get directed to the second story, northside. The San Francisco City Treasurer is one of our two witnesses. Our marriage officient is some other elected official I cannot remember for the life of me (and I'm only writing down what I can actively remember, so I can't turn to my husband next to me and ask, but he'll have remembered because that's what he does.)
I have a wilting lily flower tucked into my shirt pocket. My pants have water stains up to the knees. My hair is still wet from the rain, I am blubbering, and I can’t get the ring on my husband’s finger. The picture is a treat, I tell you.
There really isn’t a word for the mix of emotions I had at that time. Complete disbelief that this was reality and was happening. Relief that we’d made it. Awe at how many dozens of people had personally cheered for us along the way and the hundreds to thousands who’d cheered for us generally.
Then we're married.
Then we get in line to get our license.
It’s another hour. This time, the line goes through the higher stories. Then snakes around and goes past the doorway to the mayor’s office.
Mayor Newsom is not in today. And will be having trouble getting into his office on Tuesday because of the absolute barricade of letters and flowers and folded up notes and stuffed animals and City Hall maps with black marked “THANK YOU!”s that have been piled up against it.
We make it to the marriage records office.
I take a picture of my now husband standing in front of a case of the marriage records for 1902-1912. Numerous kids are curled up in corners sleeping. My own memory is spotty. I just know we got the papers, and then we’re done with lines. We get out, we head to the front entrance, and we walk out onto the City Hall steps.
It's almost 3PM.
00000
There are cheers, there’s rice thrown at us, there are hundreds of people celebrating us with unconditional love and joy and I had never before felt the goodness that exists in humanity to such an extent. It’s no longer raining, just a light sprinkle, but there are still no protestors. There’s barely even any news vans.
We make our way through the gauntlet, we get hands shaked, people with signs reading ”Congratulations!” jump up and down for us. We hit the sidewalks, and we begin to limp our way back to the BART station.
I’m at the BART station, we’re waiting for our train back south, and I’m sitting on the ground leaning against a pillar and in danger of falling asleep when a nondescript young man stops in front of me and shuffles his feet nervously. “Hey. I just- I saw you guys, down at City Hall, and I just… I’m so happy for you. I’m so proud of what you could do. I’m- I’m just really glad, glad you could get to do this.”
He shakes my hand, clasps it with both of his and shakes it. I thank him and he smiles and then hurries away as fast as he can without running.
Our train arrives and the trip south passes in a semilucid blur.
We get back to our car and climb in.
It’s 4:30 and we are starving.
There’s a Carls Jr near the station that we stop off at and have our first official meal as a married couple. We sit by the window and watch people walking past and pick out others who are returning from San Francisco. We're all easy to pick out, what with the combination of giddiness and water damage.
We get home about 6-7. We take the dog out for a good long walk after being left alone for two days in a row. We shower. We bundle ourselves up. We bury ourselves in blankets and curl up and just sort of sit adrift in the surrealness of what we’d just done.
We wake up the next day, Tuesday, to read that the California State Supreme Court has rejected the petition to shut down the San Francisco weddings because the paperwork had a misplaced comma that made the meaning of one phrase unclear.
The State Supreme Court would proceed to play similar bureaucratic tricks to drag the process out for nearly a full month before they have nothing left and finally shut down Mayor Newsom’s marriages.
My parents had been out of state at the time at a convention. They were flying into SFO about the same moment we were walking out of City Hall. I apologized to them later for not waiting and my mom all but shook me by the shoulders. “No! No one knew that they’d go on for so long! You did what you needed to do! I’ll just be there for the next one!”
00000
It was just a piece of paper. Legally, it didn’t even hold any weight thirty days later. My philosophy at the time was “marriage really isn’t that important, aside from the legal benefits. It’s just confirming what you already have.”
But maybe it’s just societal weight, or ingrained culture, or something, but it was different after. The way I described it at the time, and I’ve never really come up with a better metaphor is, “It’s like we were both holding onto each other in the middle of the ocean in the middle of a storm. We were keeping each other above water, we were each other’s support. But then we got this piece of paper. And it was like the ground rose up to meet our feet. We were still in an ocean, still in the middle of a storm, but there was a solid foundation beneath our feet. We still supported each other, but there was this other thing that was also keeping our heads above the water.
It was different. It was better. It made things more solid and real.
I am forever grateful for all the forces and all the people who came together to make it possible. It’s been twenty years and we’re still together and still married.
We did a domestic partnership a year later to get the legal paperwork. We’d done a private ceremony with proper rings (not just ones grabbed out of the husband’s collection hours before) before then. And in 2008, we did a legal marriage again.
Rushed. In a hurry. Because there was Proposition 13 to be voted on which would make them all illegal again if it passed.
It did, but we were already married at that point, and they couldn’t negate it that time.
Another few years after that, the Supreme Court finally threw up their hands and said "Fine! It's been legal in places and nothing's caught on fire or been devoured by locusts. It's legal everywhere. Shut up about it!"
And that was that.
00000
When I was in highschool, in the late 90s, I didn’t expect to see legal gay marriage until I was in my 50s. I just couldn’t see how the American public as it was would ever be okay with it.
I never expected to be getting married within five years. I never expected it to be legal nationwide before I’d barely started by 30s. I never thought I’d be in my 40s and it’d be such a non-issue that the conservative rabble rousers would’ve had to move onto other wedge issues altogether.
I never thought that I could introduce another man as my husband and absolutely no one involved would so much as blink.
I never thought I’d live in this world.
And it’s twenty years later today. I wonder how our line buddies are doing. Those babies who were running around the wide open rooms playing tag will have graduated college by now. The kids whose parents the one line-buddy was worried would see him are probably married too now. Some of them to others of the same gender.
I don’t have some greater message to make with all this. Other then, culture can shift suddenly in ways you can’t predict. For good or ill. Mainly this is just me remembering the craziest fucking 36 hours of my life twenty years after the fact and sharing them with all of you.
The future we’re resigned to doesn’t have to be the one we live in. Society can shift faster than you think. The unimaginable of twenty years ago is the baseline reality of today.
And always remember that the people who want to get married will show up by the thousands in rain that none of those who’re against it will brave.
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I need you
Synopsis: Choso needs to fuck you despite the fact that you are Yuuji's babysitter.
Warnings: Desperate sex, rough sex
Visual link: xxxxx
Choso thinks you are an angel.
Honestly.
He marvels at how you always help his family out by babysitting his little brother Yuji, even if it's late at night. Your kindness shines through in every action, and he can't help but notice how your eyes glow like an angel's, your skin seems so soft, and your voice carries a soothing, gentle tone. It's not just what you do; it's the way you do it, with such grace and beauty, that makes him believe you truly are a blessing to his family.
So that is why he must do this.
His touches are relentless, drawing you into his room the moment Yuuji is asleep. You can barely even get a word in before his bigger hands are under your shirt, exploring the warmth of your skin, a desperate longing evident in each caress. You want to tell him to slow down, to truly connect beyond the frantic urgency. But your words dissolve into breathless whispers as you meet his dark tired eyes that are practically begging for you, begging to be with you, begging to feel you.
"I like kissing you." He murmurs against your lips. "I like you. I like you so much, you are so pretty. I like and love you."
You let yourself fall into his touch and Choso captures your mouth with his, a deep, enveloping kiss that makes you moan and whine for more. As he gently removes your tank top and shorts, leaving you in your bra and underwear and he devotes attention to every inch of your skin, delivering tender nips, soft sucks, and gentle bites.
"Perfect." He mumbles under his breath, burying his nose into the crook of your neck to pepper the delicate skin with soft kisses. "Fuck, you are so perfect, baby."
Your mind grows fuzzy at his words and you let out a sharp gasp when you feel him pull the hem of your underwear down your legs.
"Jump," he commands softly, his voice a low rumble that reverberates through you. Without hesitation, you leap up and in one fluid motion, he lifts you up. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, securing you against him as he presses you against the wall. Your fingers find their way into his black hair tied up in buns long, tugging gently at the strands, anchoring yourself to him as his kisses deepen. You don't even notice that he has lowered his pants until you feel the hard pressure against your tight hole, making you instinctively squirm away.
"Stay still f'me ok baby?" Choso groans, peppering kisses along your jaw while he aligns himself with you. Without warning, he thrusts into you, the sudden friction and collision with your G-spot knocking the wind out of your lungs. It's as if every fiber of your being is tuned to this moment, each caress and sensation amplifying the pleasure that surges through you. You feel a soft shiver start at the base of your spine, traveling upward, making your skin tingle with exquisite delight. Ticklish pleasure courses through your veins and you immediately throw your head back against the wall as Choso thrusts into you.
"Hnghh, s-so good~~" You whine. It was dizzying, the grith of his dick digging itself against your g-spot, the euphoria of him fitting snuggly against walls with every thrust. The friction is incredible and it made pain quickly turn into pleasure. The tightness of your cunt has Choso gasping for breath, the grip on your hips almost bruising as he tries to keep himself from spilling inside of you right here and now.
"I can feel you baby, sh-shit, I can feel you doing it to me." Choso is not a whining man but here he is falling apart at the warmth of your cunt. God you were heaven, he thinks he would be eternally happy if he could just spend all his time inside of you, feeling you squeeze around him, smelling the intoxicating scent of your shampoo. He uses you like his personal cock sleeve, thrusting up into your warm cunt with such vigor that it shapes your insides and bruises your cervix until your entire body jolts with sensitivity.
For a moment, he slows down, leaning down to the space between you and letting a glob of thick spit drop onto your clit. He moves side to side, opening up your folds and rubbing your clit. You cry from the pleasure and Choso's Adam apple bobs as he groans as well.
He's close, and he knows you are too.
He is glaring at you with hooded eyes, watching the expressions of pleasure you make intently. Choso is caught in some sort of trance, like even though he is fucking you, he is powerless to you.
Your mind begins to drift, losing itself in the intensity of the experience of Choso fucking you. Time seems to blur, and the world around you fades, leaving only the profound connection between you and the pleasure you're immersed in. Each moment stretches and deepens, and you're carried away by the ebb and flow of sensations. Your body responds instinctively, arching off the wall and lifting your hips to meet Choso's thrusts, seeking more, craving the next wave of ecstasy. The pleasure builds and builds, a crescendo that fills you to the brim. It's a symphony of sensation, a dance of pure, unadulterated joy that leaves you breathless and yearning.
And then, in a glorious, breathtaking instant, it peaks. The world seems to explode in a kaleidoscope of bliss, and you are utterly consumed by it. Your heart races, your breath catches, and for a moment, you are weightless, suspended in a universe of pure pleasure.
Luckily for you, Choso is right there with you. His mind dips into a ocean of pleasure and before he can put a stop to it, he is spilling load upon loads of himself in you.
Damn it, he should've done this sooner.
#jjk smut#choso x reader#choso smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk links#jjk x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen headcanons
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