#but maybe that's not a very allo thing to say

[claraetoile]

I never knew the most intimate moments of my life would be lying in bed and sharing special interests.

It's sad how our societal focus on romance and sex makes us blind to other forms of intimacy.

[greenorangevioletgrass]

the albatross, here to destroy you (a.d.)

Pairing: art donaldson x popstar!reader

Summary: three years, three encounters. First, a chance meeting between two rising stars seeking an escape leaves a handprint on their hearts.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: smoking, language, greek mythology references, hella unresolved sexual tension(!!!), art is highkey a baby and lowkey a brat lol, did i mention unresolved sexual tension?, sooo much pining

Notes: this idea has consumed my waking days for weeks. I contemplated making it a really long fic, but after a long and careful consideration, I have decided to make it a trilogy! Two reasons; a) it’s gonna be really long, and b) I wanted to put Art’s look as a reference in each part lmao. Big up to @ysuftmikey and @tommysparker for being awesome and hearing out my incoherent rambles about this story. But anyway, please comment, reblog, talk to me and tell me what you think about it! Happy reading!

**i do not have a taglist. Follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass andd turn on the notifications to be alerted for new fics and updates!**

Part One: London, July 2011.

It was quite an impressive feat. 23-year-old American rising star Art Donaldson had miraculously beat the defending champion-slash-legend Rafael Nadal at the Wimbledon final.

Or so they said.

You don’t know, nor do you care much, to be quite honest. You were basically ordered to attend by your publicist, outfits picked out, hair and makeup team on full throttle only to have you sit pretty on the side of the Centre Court. And now, after milling around and halfheartedly mingling at the afterparty, you decide to give yourself some respite and slip away to the balcony.

“Oh, shit—” the man quickly turns back and stubs his cigarette on the railing, waving away any trace of smoke.

(You say man in a very broad term. He looks more like a teenage boy with that messy blond mop and skittish way about him.)

You raise your hands, showing no threat. “Sorry. Didn’t realize this balcony was taken.”

“Wait, no. Please.” He stops. He sheepishly scratches the back of his neck. The only thing more embarrassing than getting caught smoking was getting caught smoking by a pretty girl. And pretty is… a fucking gross understatement, based on what he was seeing. “Don’t leave on my account.”

“You sure?”

You flash him that soft, understanding smile and he very nearly asks you not to leave, like ever. But fortunately, he’s got enough game to hold his tongue and smile back at you, “There’s more than enough room for both of us here, right?”

Technically, the balcony is big enough for the two of you to stand on opposite corners without even addressing each other. But his fingers are resting on a pack of Marlboro Green, and you bite the inside of your cheek thoughtfully. “And more than enough cigarettes, I hope?”

He’s not sure what he was hoping for, but he sure is surprised to hear you accept his invitation to stay. Gosh, he must’ve looked like an idiot right now. “Sure, of course.”

He slides a cigarette out of the pack as he offers it to you, readily leaning in with his zippo. For a split second, the two of you share a breath in the space that he encloses with one hand as he lights your cigarette. You would be lying if it didn’t make your heart stutter.

“So…” you inhale, taking the nicotine hit to calm your thoughts, “I thought smoking was bad for athletes.”

“I thought smoking was bad for singers too, but I guess it’s less frowned upon, huh?” He murmurs, trying to balance a fresh cigarette off of the side of his lips, smirking at you over the flicker of flame he started.

“Touché.” You lean your back against the railing. It’s an interesting game of chess you’re playing. Each of your reputations precede you and don’t at the same time. “But that still doesn’t explain why you’re out here smoking on your own, instead of in there…” Celebrating is left unsaid, although the implied word hangs in big and bold letters.

“Ah well, maybe this is my way of celebrating. We’re allowed one vice every now and again, right?”

You look at him like it’s a bullshit excuse—and it is.

“This is gonna sound insane, but…” he takes a drag, looking out at the landscape before him, “I don’t feel like I should be celebrating.”

You look at him like that bullshit excuse grew a new head.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I worked hard for it and I’m glad it paid off, but…” he flicks the ash on the end of his cigarette three times. “I could’ve been better. Quicker. Won more points earlier. Beat him faster. And until I can do that, I don’t think I deserve a celebration just yet.”

You hum softly. “Sounds like you’re making a Sisyphus out of yourself. That can’t be fun.”

His mouth tugs into a crooked smile, not expecting to be called out like this. “I mean, at least I’m not rolling a boulder up a hill. I’d take tennis over that any day.”

“Yeah, but it seems like tennis is your boulder up a hill.”

“Touché.” He smiles bashfully as he takes a long drag. And then, he offers his hand. “I’m Art Donaldson, by the way.”

It’s a formality at this point. He knows who you are, heard your songs on the radio and saw your face on billboards more times than he can count. Hell, he saw you on the stands in your little Dior sunglasses earlier—and you saw him looking, just for a moment, sweat dripping down his perfect nose and all. But out of courtesy, you tell him your name and accept his handshake.

You pull your hand away, and he almost groans in protest. But again, he holds his horses. “Alright, I’ll bite. If I’m Sisyphus, what does that make you?”

“Oh, definitely Dionysus. Living on wine and theater and good vibes.” You’ve got that shit locked and loaded. It’s obvious that you’ve thought of this before.

“Is that so?” He chuckles. “Well… as long as you don’t sacrifice me to the maenads, right?”

“Can’t promise you that,” you quip back, tapping the gray off of your remaining cigarette. Pleasantly surprised that he doesn’t make the obnoxious remark that Dionysus is also the god of sex, as boys would do. Even more so that he knows enough to know the difference between the sirens and the maenads.

There’s no fighting the raging flush in his cheeks anymore, but he just hopes you would spare him. “Will you at least promise to make it swift?”

It comes out faster than a trainwreck, but without even blinking, the one thing that comes out of your mouth is, “What if I wanna take my time with you?”

Fuck.

The party carries on inside, although Stevie Wonder’s ‘My Cherie Amour’ sounds a mile away. His cigarette smoke comes out in a stuttered huff, as he looks away, not knowing what to do with himself. Eventually, though, he recovers, taking another drag. “It wouldn’t be a terrible way to go, huh?”

“I suppose not.” You sigh into a smile, exuding a flume of smoke through your nose. Shit, he doesn’t know which one is hotter; that, or the lipstick mark on your filter. Or the pensive look as you watch the party through the window.

Oh, he’s down bad.

“So, Dionysus…” he leans out against the railing, flicking ash off his stub one, two, three. “What brings you out here? You a tennis fan?”

“Me? Oh, no. No, I… don’t even really understand how it worked until today,” you admit bashfully. Somehow the truth doesn’t feel so embarrassing, even though you spent the day lying through your teeth. “Not until I saw you play. Which… congrats, by the way.”

“Wow. Thanks.” He’s not sure whether it’s the earnestness in your congratulations, or the fact that the game finally makes sense because of him, but his heart grows three sizes.

“But, yeah, no, my publicist dragged me here kicking and screaming.”

“So you were forced into a party, huh? That’s not very Dionysian of you…” He muses playfully, and those lines on each side of his lips aching to break out into a full smile. And they do. And it warms your heart that those smile lines only emphasizes the way his face lights up. “Nah, I get what you mean. My agent had to drag me out of the locker room to make an ‘appearance.’”

“Yeah, she said something about… shifting into a classier, more grownup image?”

“By watching a couple of dudes hit a ball with a racket?”

“By sitting there and looking pretty. It’s the only reason I’m all decked out in this ridiculous fucking thing,” you look down at your outfit with a grumble. Of all the days you could’ve run into someone cute, you’re in a fucking pantsuit like some middle-aged politician.

“But you do look pretty,” he replies without even blinking.

“Thanks, it’s Ralph Lauren.” You smile faux sweetly. “I believe I’m contractually obligated to say that.”

“Still pretty,” and he means it, lackadaisical smile and all. The ivory cape-like blazer is an interesting cut that goes down to your knees, and it makes you look regal. The cut of the pants makes your legs go for miles. It certainly doesn’t hurt that your off-white shirt is unbuttoned halfway, showing a generous amount of cleavage.

(And hey, he’s still a guy. Can you blame him?)

He has this way of looking at you. Like he’s studying you. It would’ve been unsettling, if he weren’t so fucking beautiful to look at and you don’t mind an excuse to stare back and admire the angular lines on his face. Like Apollo in the moonlight. “What?”

Art taps his cigarette much more deliberately and inhales, exhales out of the side of his mouth, much more deliberately this time. “I think you’re more Aphrodite than Dionysus.”

You take another drag. “How so?”

“First of all, for a god of parties, you don’t like to party all that much,” he grins knowingly, smugly, like he’s proud to have figured you out. But his smile softens, and there’s intensity behind his eyes. “And because you’re beautiful. And dangerous.”

Your mouth twists, pausing for a long moment. To calm yourself. To gather yourself. “But it’s so cliched, though…”

“Well, who would you rather be? Medusa, maybe?” He turns his body, leaning on his side against the railing so he’s fully facing you, and you can’t help but mirror his position.

You raise a forefinger pointedly, French manicured nails on display. “Hey. I think Medusa gets a bad rep. Neptune fucked her over, but she was the one cursed.”

“And what, you think you’re as cursed as Medusa, too?”

You shrug, maybe.

Despite the weight of your answer, he can’t help the chuckle that escapes him. “There’s no way you’re cursed. A curse wouldn’t be so beautiful.”

“But a curse could be deceiving, no?”

“Or maybe it’s a matter of perspective. Maybe you think you’re cursed, even when you might not necessarily be.”

“Oh, just like you’re so inclined to keep pushing your boulder up a hill?”

Art blinks, and sucks his teeth bashfully. Just when he thought he’s got you figured out… Check and mate. “You know, if I didn’t know you any better, I would’ve thought you were some kind of an oracle. Like Cassandra.”

Your eyebrows raise in interest.

“You have this strange, unnerving ability to see right through me. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve had a few drinks, or you’re just very observant, but…” he trails off thoughtfully and then nods like he’s made up his mind. “Cassandra.”

“Cassandra,” you echo quietly. “I like that.”

“Mm-hm. I’d say it’s a very fitting title for you.”

That fond little glint in his eyes is becoming a staple in the way he looks at you. And you don’t ever wanna see it dim. So you speak up again, leaning in conspiratorially. “You wanna hear something funny?”

“What?”

“My parents almost named me Cassandra.”

His jaw drops, dumbstruck. “Shut the fuck up.” His grandmother would have smacked him on the back of his head, knowing the profanity he uses (to a girl he likes, no less). But out of all the things he tried to figure out about her, he never expected to get this one right.

“I shit you not.” You watch him double down laughing, grinning to yourself. “Freaky coincidence, right?”

“Or the Fates working overtime. I’m sure they’d be laughing at us right now.” He looks up at the deep blue sky with a shake of the head.

You wave at the stars, taking a mock bow to your invisible audience. “Thank you. Glad you’re enjoying the show, guys.” The laughter lingers on your lips, and you wonder if it tastes the same on his. “We really are just the court jesters, huh?”

He nods. “Although I wouldn’t mind playing the fool for you.” Maybe it’s the drinks or the cigarettes or the unlikeliest conversation with the most stunning creature he has ever laid eyes on, but at one point, his inhibitions are starting to leave him.

It’s now or never.

The dubious smile that comes out of you is involuntary. He can’t be serious, right? “You are so full of shit, aren’t you?”

“You don’t believe me?”

You look at him like, obviously.

“What are you gonna do, punish me for lying?” There’s that glint again, the bite against the inside of your cheek, and Art steps in.

Your heart catches. He doesn’t feel much like a boy now, inches away from you with a disarming look, his intentions crystal clear. And your head drops for a moment with a wry smile. “You can’t say that to me...”

“Why not?”

“Because!”

“Because? His grin widens, because for the first time this whole evening, he’s got the upper hand. And he likes it.

“I…” You blink at him, finding yourself cornered. Thankfully, though, your phone comes to the rescue, buzzing in your pocket and popping the tension between you and Art like a balloon. “I’m sorry, do you mind if I—”

“Yeah, sure.” he backs away a step, flashing an understanding smile. He watches you pick up the phone, looking out at the London sky. He would swear up and down that he didn’t mean to eavesdrop. He just loves to watch you gnaw at your lower lip in thought, study your moonbathed profile.

Listen to the sweet, sweet sound of your voice.

“Hi… no, I’m still at the— yeah. I’m not sure… are you still with…? Oh, good. Good, just checking. Say hi to everyone for me... Yeah, I’ll call you when I get back?” You catch Art’s gaze, and your stomach drops as you hear the dreaded words on the line. But again, you’re backed away into a corner. So you look away and say it back, “I love you, too. Bye.”

There it is.

Art really should’ve known this. He should’ve seen it coming. You were way too good to be true, but that doesn’t stop him from getting disappointed. No, his heart breaks on the spot, and he’s pretty sure you can hear it.

(You can’t. But you can see it in his face.)

The silence is awkward. It’s ugly. The steady sounds of cars passing by on the ground feels like it’s right in front of you. For the longest time, the two of you can only look out onto the horizon. Anxiously tracing the outlines of skyscrapers in sight.

He is reeling, like he’s been shaken awake from a dream. “So, I take it you’re taken, huh?”

The look you give him is apologetic, and it kills you as much as it destroys him. “Yeah.”

Art rubs at his jaw like he’s willing himself to say something, anything. “I see you’ve cursed me, then.”

“What?”

It takes him a moment to gather his words. Put together his thoughts in a way that you would understand. He didn’t mean it to sound so damning, but it’s the first thing that comes out. It feels like taking a boulder out of his throat. “By making me like you.”

Oh.

Your face falls. Of course. How cruel of you to play his game, knowing you’re setting him up to lose. “I’m sorry. I never meant to…”

“No, no. I’m not blaming you, I swear,” he quickly interjects. “It’s… not your fault one of us is a fool.” He smiles ruefully at nothing.

“It’s a shame,” you quietly admit.

And even then he can’t be mad at you. Not from the way he looks at you oh so tenderly. “It’s a real shame, love.”

There are no words, no more witty remarks. They’ve all been exhausted out of you. There’s nothing left to exchange but that soft look of resignation. Of defeat.

Of wishful thinking.

The cigarettes have long died out and forgotten, only the filters left between your fingers. Your ashes fall in a big chunk on the railing, while Art’s… have free-dived and dispersed in the muggy night air.

“I should go.” Your voice comes out in a whisper. “Let you go back to your party.”

Art can only nod. He keeps his mouth shut, not trusting himself enough to not beg you to stay.

You reach out, almost pulling back, but you can’t help it. Even if it’s just a nothing hand on his shoulder. “I’ll see you around, Art.”

He covers your hand in his, just for a second. His thumb caressing the back of your hand. His heart is in pieces, but at least he will have this. If nothing else, he will still know how your hand feels in his.

And just as quickly as it happens, it ends. Art doesn’t dare watch you leave. He misses your touch instantly, and the sound of your footsteps, and the door opening and closing follows. As Al Green’s ‘What Am I Gonna Do With Myself’ plays on in the party, Art looks out towards the London sky and lights another cigarette.

[washedoutwings]

hey guys!! just want to clear some stuff up when it comes to being aspec :)

recently we’ve been seeing some veeeeerrryyyyy incorrect takes, such as the following screenshot (no i didn’t blur the name, think of this as a blocklist for you)

as an arospec ace collective, we feel like we’re in a pretty good position to address this. this also isn’t the only person we’ve seen say stuff like this, but we don’t feel like hunting down other harmful takes :)

firstly, if we’re being loud it’s because we aren’t being heard.

[this is literally just how activism works, but go off ig?? -💖🐘]

secondly, who are you to comment on our struggles? we’re white, and as such we don’t pretend to understand the discrimination and struggles that poc face. we know that we have very different experiences and aren’t in a position to say what is and isn’t a struggle for them.

as for these struggles, parents maybe wanting grandkids is nothing. we are excluded from queer spaces for being too straight and not queer enough. we’re discriminated against by allo cishet people because we’re too gay and weird and immoral. when we create our own spaces we are told that we don’t deserve them. our only community is each other, and even then it’s filled with infighting because we’re all being told that we don’t belong anywhere.

we are told that we are fucked in the head, belong in a psych ward, are just trying to get attention, shouldn’t be allowed around people, are sociopaths/psychopaths (which is also ableist), are just naive/immature/ugly, just need an excuse for not getting laid, and are predators. these are literally all things that we (this collective) have been called personally.

we can’t talk about it in therapy or to doctors because now that’s the problem that needs to be fixed and we need to unpack the trauma that caused it. they are literally trying to tell us that our orientation is not real and is actually a problem or disorder that needs to be solved and changed. that is literal fucking conversion therapy

and we sincerely doubt that many aspec people would struggle with dealing with even worse aphobes because we do anyways. daily. from our family, our community, our healthcare, coworkers, classmates, and just about everyone else we interact with.

userboxes by @/inhumanliquid i think

[thedinosapien]

Theory: Brooklynn talked to N5 before leaving

The finale leaves many things implied or even confusing – in a way that makes it seem like something happened, especially between the scenes where Ben warns Brooklynn about the Bumpy's egg in the suitcase and the scene where B leaves. I invite you to rewatch the final scene, so it will be easier to understand what I say:

It is implied that Brooklynn had a conversation with the Nublar 5 off-screen, hidden from the viewer. The implications of the scene:

Ben is the one who talks about Bumpy's egg, so he obviously put himself in front of his friends. In the next scene, we see the position of each of the boys and girls: in front, Ben (who talked about the egg in the case), behind him, Darius and lastly, Kenji, then we have Sammy in ahead of Yasmina. Keep Brooklynn's reaction finding out about the egg in mind, I'll talk about it later.

Although Ben asks for the egg, the one who has it in his hands in the last scenes is Kenji. It's not Ben, who loves Bumpy more than anyone, or Darius, who is Brooklynn's best friend. She decided to give the egg to Kenji, proving that:

A. Maybe she trusts him more than Ben or Darius (understandable, since Pincus didn't do what she asked and D left her with the Allo, but it would be a bit strange for the scene, don't you agree? After all, Ben is Bumpy's dad);

B. There was more to the scene than what is revealed to the viewer. A conversation, probably.

The only one Brooklynn hadn't seen before in the season was Kenji, so she didn't know about the affection he has for the baby in the shell, that is, she had no reason to choose him, again indicating that there was an exchange of words between the characters.

There is two hypothesis about what must happened:

• Before giving the egg to Ben, he (Kenji) interrupted and demanded to receive it in Ben's place. It would be strange, since one way or another they would already have the egg in hands – in very safe hands –, changing only the fact that it would be with Ben Pincus;

• Or better, Brooklynn took advantage of the great opportunity she had to give essential explanations for the third season: Santos would kill them if she noticed any sign of betrayal on B's part, but with only one egg missing and the promise that none of her "ex-friends" would get in the way of the plan, everything would be safer for Santos. B just had to take advantage of the small gap to tell her friends WHAT she was doing, WHERE she was going and WHY she was going there – remember, the others don't know anything about Sayona's plans. Those informations will be essential for the characters!

It makes sense, doesn't it? After all, part of the arc of Kenji's relationship with the others is that "nobody tells me anything". Having him as the center of the scene, being, somehow, the priority of information, implies a development in his arc and a future advancement in the others' as well.

Note, in the beginning, Kon was the last, but in the end he is the one who is the most ahead of his friends. There really was something.

Now, the final detail that is totally related to Brooklynn's reaction to the egg: Throughout the season she never knew that Bumpy would have a baby. Her reaction reveals that she realized she lost a lot. It's exactly what Earnest said: "You're nothing special [...]. You're never happy with the good thing you've got, right in front of you." This reinforces that Brooklynn's story is about enjoying the things she already has, what she loses with her obsession and what she also has to gain from it. She needs to balance a lot of things in order to finally understand, by herself, what the truly wants and needs.

——————

A stupid theory I posted on reddit and thought it would be nice to post here. Tumblr must be more active, so activity ≃ interaction + addiction/correction for the theory.

I should stop thinking too much abt this show

If it turn out to be totally wrong, I hope you guys don't remember my post lol

[fanby-fckry]

You know what, I’m just gonna say it. I think that Alastor being aroace is part of the reason he’s so shippable to me.

Before you come at me, check the flag in my pfp; I’m aroace-spec.

Maybe it’s me projecting, maybe it’s because I love exploring relationships through an aroace lens, but goddamn. I ship him more than any other character and every time I do, his aroaceness is a major component in the ship.

Examples below the cut because it’s gonna get long:

📻🍎 || RadioApple:

There are so many versions of this dynamic and I am here for all of them.

We have the pre-canon kinky QPR that I show in UH3. I could talk about that all day, but to summarize:

Aroace x genuinely respectful allo is a dynamic that heals my soul.

Lucifer is less tied down by human constructs like amatonormativity, having never been human himself.

The Devil values consent.

Kinky cannibalism, kinky cannibalism, kinky cannibalism, kinky ca- *I am removed from the stage with a comically large hook*

Then we have the Evil and fucked up QPR dynamic:

And of course, trying to get along for Charlie’s sake and eventually bonding over their shared love of dad jokes and musical theatre, both being violinists (yup, Alastor plays violin too, check the wiki) with niche hobbies/interests (ducks, furby organ) and accidentally winding up in a loving, healthy QPR.

📻🕸️ || RadioDust:

There’s something about an aroace and a sex worker who very rarely falls in love.

Angel would know that Alastor isn’t with him for sex, would know that he values Angel beyond his body.

With greyro Alastor, Angel and Alastor would both be inexperienced with romance, but in wildly different ways. Angel has never had a healthy romantic relationship and therefor tries not to fall in love. Greyro Alastor has probably experienced romantic attraction like less than three times in his 100+ years of existence.

And if Alastor never gains romantic attraction for Angel, that’s a whole other level to the dynamic.

It’s got some great angst potential with Angel wondering if he’s not good enough to love romantically or Alastor feeling guilty or confused as to Why It Hasn’t Happened Yet when he cares for Angel so deeply, and eventually it gets resolved with the two of them accepting that their attractions don’t have to match up for them to love/appreciate/care for each other and they smash the amatonormative relationship hierarchy as queer platonic partners.

Or, Angel’s just totally cool with it from the start because he’s spent decades in the kink scene and has potentially been exposed to more relationship anarchy than Alastor.

Kink and queerness have a great deal of historical and cultural overlap, and that includes aroace queerness. Because Angel’s had way more canon exposure to both, it’s possible he knows more about Alastor’s orientation than Alastor does, and I love the idea of Angel introducing him to terms or just being super chill about not labeling things.

📻♥️ || RadioHusk:

Drawing like 90% from pilot dynamic and headcanon on this. They’re just two old men. They get drunk and cuddle. Alastor is one of the few people who knows Husk can purr and takes advantage of this fact. Alastor considers Husk a friend in a fucked up, possessive way. Husk considers Alastor a pain in the ass, but does care about him on some level.

It’s Fucked Up and Evil QPR: Remix Edition.

And the versions where the author puts them through fanfic couple’s therapy and actually gets them into a healthy point in their relationship? One where Alastor no longer owns Husk’s Soul? *chef’s kiss*

📻🌹 || RadioRose:

For me, personally, this is an exclusively nonsexual, non-romantic ship. They’re besties; they’re QPPs. They’re married for the tax benefits and so that they cannot be forced to testify against each other in court.

Rosie knew Alastor was aroace before he did and rather than sit down and explain it to him, she decided to make ace puns.

📻🖤 || RadioSiren: [edit, context here] RadioFemme

Ok, so this is entirely based on non-canon-compliant Lilith. Or, I guess, non-series-compliant Lilith. More of the old WOG stuff from the pilot era, with a healthy dose of headcanon for flavor.

I love the idea of Lilith and Lucifer having an open marriage; I love the UH3 style polycule dynamic.

Lilith being the original seductress and Alastor being aesthetically but not sexually or romantically attracted to her is very near and dear to my heart.

I’m an aroace with a voice kink who is aesthetically attracted to Lilith and I think Alastor is an aroace with a voice kink who would be aesthetically attracted to Lilith, ok?

📻📺 || RadioStatic:

I’m gonna be real with you, 90% of my interest in RadioStatic is in the one-sided version where Vox is a pathetic little incel simp and Alastor is either oblivious, mildly annoyed, or finds the whole thing hilarious.

Whenever there’s any reciprocation on Alastor’s part, I always imagine it being in a very aroace, very Alastor-esque way. He needs to be get something out of it completely unrelated to sex/romance. And he needs to be manipulative and sadistic in the process.

Whether that something is kink-related, a business transaction, or simply the quality entertainment provided by Vox being a cringefail TV-headed little bitch, I love to see it.

[lyricalt]

RED sniperspy, foolish

in my typical distracted fashion, i had 80% of this written out then just... didn't know where to go until i thought "well it doesn't have to go anywhere, actually" so here it is, lol.

-----

Watching Sniper knit must be getting very boring for Spy to start an impromptu interrogation. 

“When did you know?” Spy asks.

Sniper is knitting a rather ambitious red tie using seed stitches, which even he finds a bit tedious, going from purl to knit after every single stitch, but he thinks it might be funny and worth the effort if he can get Spy to wear it. Spy, in a good showing of deduction and detective work, has been nothing but a nuisance in order to delay completion of the tie. Even though Sniper has said nothing of the sort about making the tie for Spy. There’s one other person on base that wears them. He’s sure Medic would be tickled pink to receive a knitted tie. There’s also the other spy across the way, who might find it hilarious to be gifted with something so ridiculous. 

Besides, Sniper has an inkling of what Spy is up to. He glances up briefly, noting how Spy is only lounging in the opposite corner of the nest, near the window so that he can smoke and flick the ash outside. Their eyes meet. Spy throws Sniper one of his sly smiles, but it’s got the edge of something private, especially when Spy’s gaze darts down to the unfinished tie then back up to Sniper. Like maybe Sniper doesn’t have to answer this vague question if he doesn’t want to.

The question is all covered in bait. Sniper does up two stitches without looking then has to redirect his eyes back down to do a quick recount. Spy certainly does know how to time his questions, and Sniper is well acquainted with this kind of test. When did he know? The start of all the decisions that led to Sniper up here, in his nest, with someone who gets on his nerves as much as gets into his bed, knitting ‘em a bloody tie.

“Ahh… not really a specific moment,” Sniper replies. He is aware that Spy wants to fluster him, wants to make him blush and stutter so that he messes up the tie, but also there’s genuine curiosity, banking on the off chance that Sniper will answer. And maybe he will, just to throw Spy off his game. “Just one day was looking through my scope during a battle. Caught you sneaking around. Shot a demo for you. Stared at you a bit.”

There’s a grin in Spy’s voice. “I distracted you?”

“I wouldn't say that,” Sniper says, needles clicking without pause. “Just. I remember thinking—oh, hope Spy visits after work. Hope we get to chat. Hope he wants to stay a bit. Didn't even wanna shag.”

“Then I popped by, hm?”

Now it’s Sniper’s turn to grin, though he doesn’t look up from the knitting.

“That's the thing. You didn't. Felt like a dunce, waitin’ in the camper. Embarrassin’ at the time, when I couldn't put my finger on it. Turns out you were just hangin’ with Medic and Engie in the rec room. Stuck me head in with a hangdog look waitin’ for you to notice me.”

There is a pause. Spy sounds genuinely entertained by the idea. “I don’t remember this.”

“Didn’t think you would. Y’said your ‘allo and how-you-dos then carried on like we ain’t been fuckin’ every week,” Sniper says, now glancing up. He puffs air in his cheeks, holds it, then lets out a tight, rueful exhale like he can push the embarrassment out of himself. That still remains an awkward memory. “I was mortified, mate. Turned back ‘round with me tail between me legs. Realized I was comin’ at ya expecting all your attention. That’s when I sorta knew I fancied you more than… eh. More than what we agreed on.”

Spy’s head might all full up with hot air now. He looks downright smug and a little charmed at the same time. It’s a small confession and Sniper doesn’t expect any big reaction, but Spy’s cigarette has been flaking ash over his suit pants, momentarily forgotten until a stray ember flits across Spy’s vision, and Spy quickly turns his wrist to tap the cigarette clean. Sniper chalks that up as a win, even if he’s setting aside the knitting project now to approach Spy by the window.

“Alright,” he says, standing over him. “I’ve fessed up. Now you.”

“I have an answer,” Spy says, easily. 

He reaches over and slaps Sniper’s arse.

Sniper doesn’t move. He stares, unimpressed. “You gotta be kiddin’ me.”

Spy shrugs. “I have a habit of being infatuated very easily.”

“Coulda fooled me,” Sniper says, with no small amount of despair and exasperation.

Spy reaches up, grabbing Sniper by the front of his shirt. The cigarette stub gets flicked out the window. 

“And I have.”

[zeroducks-2]

Ok so I've seen this post way too many times on my dashboard not to get pissed so here's me saying this: Shipping is not aphobic, Soulmates AUs are not aphobic, having fun imagining your favorite little guys having sex is not aphobic.

"But one of these characters is asexual in the text!" 1: a character which doesn't have a canon relationship is not necessarily aspec, and 2: even if the character is canonically aro/ace, shipping them with someone doesn't erase the fact that they're aro/ace in the text, and in fact doesn't hurt anyone because IT'S FICTION. It's like shipping with an age gap, shipping gay characters with the opposite sex, shipping murderers and cannibals, shipping het characters with the same sex, any other "problematic" thing you can think of. It's fiction. It's not real, it doesn't hurt anyone, it's just some poor sod's past-time like it is yours and mine and everyone else's who spend their time shipping fictional people.

"Shipping hurts X category of people" is anti rhetoric and guess what, it's bullshit. You're just calling people aphobic instead of p3do, groomer or whatever other offensive nonsense antis say.

"But soulmate AU are aphobic!" Look, I hate soulmate AUs because they're cheesy and made with the cookie cutter, but that's just bullshit. No they don't hurt aspec communities, they simply do not cater to aromantic people. Something which doesn't cater to you simply existing does not in fact hurt you. And anyway you're free to create your own "Platonic Soulmate AU" if you so like, I promise no one is stopping you and a lot of folks would appreciate it.

"But it normalizes amatonormativity!" LISTEN. It's called amatonormativity FOR A REASON, and this reason is that it is the norm. Fandom spaces haven't normalized it, IT IS ALREADY NORMALIZED. Hetero, cis, allo and amatonormativity don't come from fandoms, they are not pushed by fandoms, and making it sound any different is the same kind of rhetoric antis use. Kinda on the opposite end of the spectrum of that specific brand of antis which claims incest in fanfictions normalizes it, whereas 8 seasons of GoT somehow don't. Like fucking stop treating fans like they hold the keys to make things widely spread and accepted, maybe? Because that's also what antis do in their attempt to police what other people like...?

In conclusion, this is an internalized anti behavior which won't help aspec people, won't help fandom and will only fuel shame in anyone who takes it seriously. It's just a very fancy brand of censorship. Fucking stop.

[cancerstanople]

As someone who used to identify as aromantic, I used to (and still do) struggle to differentiate between romantic and platonic attraction, here's my best explanation.

It's very similar to platonic attraction. You want to spend a lot of time with a person, you want to get to know them, you want to express affection for them.

The difference is in the intensity of it. With romantic attraction, you want to know their deepest secrets and show your affection for them RIGHT NOW. The feelings of love and attachment to this person are overwhelming and powerful clouders of judgement, especially at the onset of a crush or the start of a new relationship.

For the asexuals, this is why romantic and sexual attraction are perceived to be the same thing for most people, because sex is often thought of as the highest form of intimacy; it's a very intense, vulnerable, and physically close form of physical affection. But regardless of whether sex is a factor, the basis of romance is the desire to connect with someone as intimately and as quickly as possible.

Another difference is the duration of it. Feelings of friendship are generally very consistent, and can last long periods of time with less maintenance on the relationship itself. However, feelings of romantic attraction, while strong, are more short-lived. After the "honeymoon stage" of a relationship is over, the powerful, intoxicating feelings start to dissipate, and the lovers face a choice:

break up because the loss of the feeling means you're not motivated to keep the relationship going anymore

stay together and resign themselves to a more comfortable, platonic dynamic (I say "resign" not to mean that it's lesser than a passionate romance, just not as dramatic)

keep rekindling the fire, keep finding new ways to express affection or new things to discover about each other

When I explained it to myself in this way, it helped me understand why there are so many seemingly nonsensical rituals and customs surrounding dating and relationships: it's an attempt to regulate it. Romantic attraction is a very volatile feeling; it's strong, it blocks off your rationality, and it doesn't last a long time with the same person if you don't know how to keep it up. This means it has the potential to cause a lot of strife and maybe cause physical pain if there are no rules of engagement (engagement lol, pun not intended). So we have practices of dates, and marriage, and social mores about how to interact with each other in order to pace ourselves.

This is how I interpret it, at least. Other allos, feel free to add your own perspectives or shit on mine if yours is completely different. I'm still young, so my view on it is probably immature, but I think it's a good basis for future conversation, at least.

For the aros reading this, I hope it was helpful!

[clarisse0o]

The Mayor - Chapter 59

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternate Universe: Mayor and Architect

Words: 1500

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Half sitting up, I sighed:

"What do you want, Jules? I'm a bit busy here!"

He made a doubtful face from his 6’3” frame.

"You’re busy?"

He wasn’t wrong. I was lying in the grass, alone. He sat down next to me, keeping some distance between us. A silence settled, which he broke after a few seconds, speaking to me while still looking ahead.

"I know I went a bit too far tonight..."

Jules, repentant, unbelievable. I laughed bitterly.

"Tonight? The past few days too, Jules..."

He crossed his arms around his knees, still looking at the horizon.

"At the same time, do you think it’s easy for me? When I said what I said, it was to provoke. Hugo just killed me there..."

He paused for a few seconds, then continued:

"Mom, she didn’t say anything, but her look was sad... I think that was even worse. She just asked why I reacted like that, and I explained what happened last night..."

"Yeah, our little argument..." I added.

A new silence fell. Jules grabbed several blades of grass, breaking them mechanically, showing a tension he was trying to hide. I wanted to listen to him and let him speak, let him open up.

"I don’t handle it well, so I react like this. Hugo’s cool, he doesn’t care, but I can’t do it. The fact that I knew you before, that I liked you, and then you’re with my mom... and maybe you’re doing all of this for her in the end... the internship with you, and everything else..."

I shook my head. So, he thought I did it all for him just to please his mother.

"No, Jules, I did it because I wanted to. Because I like you. And you’re really good at it too. Trust me, I wouldn’t have taken Hugo for an internship in my office! He’d manage to build me a house with round corners!"

Hugo hated numbers, math, except when it came to cooking, his passion. I often teased him about that, which he always took with good humor. Jules cracked a smile at that mention, then resumed a more serious look, turning to face me, looking at me for the first time in our conversation, with his light blue eyes. The same as Lucy's.

"And then, you know, it’s not always easy having a mom at that level of politics. You get comments sometimes, at school, from teachers, friends who don’t agree with what she’s doing or saying. I can’t even imagine what people will say when they find out… when they find out what..."

I helped him finish his thought.

"When they find out she’s with a woman…"

"Yeah, exactly... I knew my parents were going to divorce, but that’s never easy to accept. And then, she gets with you…"

He took a breath.

"I mean, I’m not against gay people, really not, I have gay friends!" he added.

I knew that well enough. Jules was tolerant and open-minded. Very sensitive too.

"But my mom... I don’t know, it feels weird..."

He lowered his head, looking for his words.

It was me who picked up the conversation again.

"I understand, Jules, let’s not lie, the situation isn’t the easiest. It hasn’t been for your mom, for me, and I understand it’s not for you either... We don’t all react the same way to the same situation..."

It was my turn to think, to weigh my words.

"But I think that’s sometimes how life is. There’s not always clarity, or logic. It just hits us. Of course, there will be remarks, looks, I can’t tell you otherwise. I’ve experienced it myself..."

"And how did you handle it?" he asked, almost in a whisper.

"It’s hard, it’s difficult, but I promise you, you come out stronger! Either you take it all too much to heart and ruin your life for people who aren’t worth it, or you move on! And I’m not just talking about this specific situation, I’m talking about life in general..."

"You’re probably right..."

"It’s not easy, I know Jules... But, here’s the thing, I sincerely love your mom, so what do I do? Am I going to give up all of this for looks and words?"

I left my sentence hanging, my throat tight. Another silence settled, allowing me to collect my thoughts. Jules turned slightly more toward me:

"I’m going to try to make an effort, accept it, stop being such a Twat!"

In his attitude and words, he had taken a step toward me. I smiled at him.

"You’re not a Twat, Jules, I was just pissed off..."

"No, but sometimes, a little bit, you’re right!"

Jules' piercing blue eyes seemed a little calmer at that moment. The wind blew a little harder. In the distance, the voice of the announcer announced the arrival of the last band of the evening.

"I... I need to meet some friends to listen to the band, one of my friends is the guitarist..."

"Of course, go ahead Jules… It was really good that we talked, you know..."

He nodded, then stood up, adjusting his sweatshirt and brushing off the blades of grass from his jeans. Before leaving, he asked me this question:

"We’re going to be okay, right?"

As if to reassure himself, and me.

I smiled at him, a smile tinged with a hint of worry.

"I’ll tell you yes once I’ve talked to Lucy again..."

"You two had a fight?"

"A little more than that… well, especially me!"

Before leaving, he slipped me this phrase, a smile at the corner of his lips.

"You know, very few people raise their voice at my mom, she’s just not used to it... And it doesn’t do her any harm! She must love you for that too, Ona..."

I smiled back, though it didn’t ease my doubts about the consequences of our argument with Lucy. As he walked off toward the concert, I felt lighter for having talked to Jules. I lay back in the grass. 

Of course, such a story also has consequences for those close to us. Especially an adolescent. We were both stuck in our own thought patterns, categorizing our reactions, not trying enough to understand each other, or to communicate. Jules wasn’t a bad guy. He was very sensitive, asked himself a thousand questions, had imagined a lot of things on his own.

I looked at my phone: No message from Lucy. I wasn’t sure what to do anymore, whether I should write her, call her, or wait... I too was asking myself those 1001 questions. I sighed, I wasn’t going to spend the whole night lying on this grass, overthinking! I decided to join my friends and listen to the last concert. Whatever happens!

---

I found them quite quickly, standing next to the main bar, which didn’t surprise me in the slightest. Alexia was surprised when she saw me, thinking I had left. She pulled me into a hug, squeezing me tightly.

"So happy to see you, my beautiful!"

The rest of the group smiled at me, half curious, half awkward, not knowing what to say about the incident. Of course, they’d figured it out. I decided to get ahead of them:

"Well, I think you all know now, with Lucy..."

I left the sentence hanging. Excitement quickly spread among our little group.

"Unbelievable! I can’t believe it!" Margot exclaimed with a big smile.

"When I think about what I said earlier, international shame, you must’ve wanted to crucify me right there!" 

It was Rémi, the principal, who did indeed seem somewhat embarrassed. I gave him a pat on the shoulder.

"No, because you don’t stand a chance!"

The whole group burst out laughing.

"Oh, come on! Still, what a catch, you’re really a little sneak!" he added.

"So when’s the official introduction?" asked Mathis with a mischievous eye.

"Well, I don’t even know if we’re still together..." I added with a weary tone.

Alexia shrugged.

"Of course you are, stop! Don’t listen to her! Their story is a bit like *Santa Barbara* but it always ends well!"

"Because you knew from the start, right?" asked Mathis, now with a more inquisitive look.

"Not exactly, but almost! And it has to be said, it’s thanks to me!"

Olga raised her eyebrows in amusement.

"Always so modest, darling..."

The conversation was lively, in a little hum, with questions flying around. Even though I wasn’t the most comfortable, being the target of their many questions, I was happy to share this important part of my life, this story that had started two years ago, with my friends.

Suddenly, I spotted Lucy, several meters away from me, moving from person to person, shaking hands, greeting people, starting conversations here and there. She was smiling, hiding any sign of her potential emotions. My heart tightened, and I didn’t take my eyes off her, listening to the others with a distracted ear.

As she was talking to a couple, our gazes met. She lifted her face toward me, her piercing blue eyes not leaving mine.

My heart started to beat a little faster.

[prince-liest]

I’m a sex-repulsed ace, and reading the latest chapter of 666 (as well as your analysis here on Tumblr) made me realize that I have been subconsciously thinking about MY OWN sexuality from an allo perspective? And that it has kinda been messing me up?? Like, ever since I learned that sexual attraction was actually a Thing and that it’s Important To People, I had been carrying around a fear of being deficient in some way and not being able to love to the same extent as allos. (1)

Even though I know logically that’s complete garbage and totally untrue, I felt left out of the loop because people seemed to care strongly about this thing I couldn’t even imagine. Whenever it looked like a relationship might happen I panicked for a reason that I couldn’t understand. But now I’m starting to realize that it’s because I was subconsciously terrified of an ‘ulterior motive’ behind the other person’s reasons for wanting to be with me. (2) That part of the reason they even cared was because of something I don’t experience. So thank you, because this realization just clicked into place while reading your work. The thing is, this way of thinking was just internalized in such a way that I didn’t even realize it was there until literally this week. And I think you’re right; one of the main reasons behind that is because I’ve always consumed media written from an allo perspective. (3) If ace/aros are shown at all, they’re depicted as “lacking” and their character development usually revolves around being “fixed” by the story. When I was ~10 years old my mom sometimes let me watch the Big Bang Theory with her (looking back, maybe not the best decision). Anyways, there was one episode deep into the series where Sheldon (who for the past nineish seasons was probably the closest thing to mainstream ace rep) has sex with his girlfriend for the first time. (4) Afterwards, he says something along the lines of “that was better than I thought it would be”, and it’s presented as a Very Good Thing and a big step in their relationship. I think a lifetime of stuff like that makes it very easy to internalize aphobia and feel like the lesser part of the relationship. Or to feel like the other partner is making a huge sacrifice to be with you. That got wayy too long, sorry. All that was just a lot of words to say that I appreciate you. Take care of yourself!(5)

The portrayal of asexuality that you see in media being almost exclusively as you described is very tedious to me because it presumes that something is inherently lacking in aro/aceness rather than that feeling of "lacking" being something that is induced by societal norms. Actually, one of the things that I find additionally alienating is that fandom spaces specifically have been getting better and better about ace characters - but got damn does fandom not jive with aromanticism. Like, a character doesn't want to fuck? That's becoming a liiiittle more fine, it's 2024, we stan consent. But not shipping someone romantically?? Not so easy, now.

I'm glad that my work has been something that resonated with you in this respect! Alastor cares a lot about his reputation as a demon but is pretty blatantly a person who could not possibly give less of a shit about being "wrong" for not being experiencing romantic or sexual attraction. The explanation Viv gave at one point for his own understanding of himself (that he thinks he's just "waiting for the right woman") actually stuck out to me a lot because it's a very "well, nothing is wrong with me for not feeling anything, it's the world that's failed to produce a suitable person" perspective.

But having that kind of confident perspective of your own rightness in the world is really not often portrayed in media, or even in fandom, which even ten years ago was still in the throes of standardizing "Oh, no! Me, gay? These feelings are so wrong!" style m/m content and is honestly not that far off from essentially that for aro/ace characters.

Anyway, all of that is to say that there's not yet much out there that doesn't frame allo/amatonormative values as the default that "even aro/ace people can (and should want to) achieve," and that it's really fun to write a fic that is unequivocally from the perspective of a character who is aroace and doesn't see it as even remotely a fault in himself. Does he have moments where he's a little confused and trying to process how things fit for him? Absolutely. But he just doesn't strike me as the kind of guy who thinks he owes romance to Vox of all people, hahaha. I've written him trying to conform to allo/amatonormativity more with Mimzy, because I think the social standards of their time could push him into it, but Vox? Absolutely not, he does not respect Vox enough for it to even enter his mind.

And then, on the other hand, writing it from an aroace perspective centers the way that romantic and sexual interest can feel like a betrayal of a good thing. With a character like Alastor, it frames romantic and sexual attraction the same alien way that we usually see aromanticism and asexuality framed as.

In the end, this is just one of a plethora of different experiences that aro/ace people can have, but it's one that I really wanted to see represented more, so I'm very happy to write it. I'm glad that you're enjoying it!

[karaspal]

kara danvers is so ace-coded they should've just confirmed her as asexual. she values friendships over anything else, she gets grossed out by sexual stuff, she can easily make friends with dragons! it's basically canon.

kara spent the entirety of s1 wanting to date james but they became great friends in the meantime, so when it was finally time for them to change their relationship, kara didn't want to date him anymore. she didn't want to lose the connection they had, and a failed relationship would've done that. i think this is the reason kara doesn't want to date people who are already her friends. if it fails, you lose the person. and with ace people wanting to date allo people, it's a real possibility.

in s1, kara also (kind of) faced some aphobia from leslie during her supergirl slander piece. there is also a thing she says in the podcast itself (iyky), but i don't really want to include it because it's very icky.

(this should go without saying, but since this is the internet and nothing goes with a disclaimer, i do think leslie's "lack of sexuality" comment is bad, and i do think it could be seen as aphobie if that's how one chooses to interpret it)

kara spent the first half of s2 not only not showing any interest in mon-el, but outright saying she wouldn't date someone like him (who is, for example, openly a very sexual person. not that there's anything wrong with that, but seemingly not kara's cup of tea). she also rejected him twice. twice.

(the following part i kinda copy-pasted from another one of my posts, but don't judge me too hard, okay. it just already has the points i want to make.)

i honestly think kara dated mon-el because she felt like everyone was pulling away from her and she was scared to be alone again. it was during the time she was fighting with her best friends, and her sister was preoccupied with her own (toxic) relationship. on top of that, part of kara's story in the early seasons is unlearning all the harmful behavior jeremiah and eliza forced her to do so she could "fit in" ("don't be too smart", "make sure not to stand out", "go on dates, find a partner. it's what humans do"). so her abandonment issues, mixed with her belief that you need a partner to fit in and be happy because "that's what humans do", pushed her to mon-el. it also doesn't help alex decided to push the last of her internalized comhet on her sister ("well, mon-el likes you so are you sure you don't like him either?" no. no, she doesn't. this is not slander to alex tho, it's the writers fault. alex is my girl, and i love her very much. it was also said in s1 eliza would get upset with alex if kara didn't date enough so alex pushing kara towards mon-el maybe could be seen as a leftover effect from their mother's unfair treatment.)

i'd also like to say that sleeping with a guy once (if that's even what happened since we didn't really see anything) doesn't really prove she's not asexual. since she also left after (which is so funny to me because she got so bored she left her own loft) and explicitly told him not to tell anyone (which is even funnier to me).

and, on top of that, technically, for kara, mon-el was the closest thing to a kryptonian. in a way, he reminded her of her home (even if he was the furthest from that). she romanticized him a lot (she said so herself in 3x15). she felt like she could be herself with him, because he was also an alien. but the thing was, mon-el hated his planet and didn’t miss it at all. and for all of krypton’s faults, kara still missed her home a lot. mon-el couldn’t relate to her the way kara thought he could.

all these factors - 1) kara’s abandonment issues (because almost everyone was pulling away from her), 2) the belief installed by her adoptive parents that you need a romantic partner to fit in and appear normal (eliza would get upset with her if she didn’t go on enough dates), 3) most of her friends looking genuinely happy in their romantic relationships (happiness kara wanted to experience too and she didn't realise until later in the show that happiness looks different for different people so she assumed a relationship would make her happy), 4) last of alex’s comphet telling her that maybe she likes him too because he likes her (even if there were no indications and in fact, kara said she didn’t like him and looked disappointed when she found out he did), and 5) mon-el being the “closest” to her home (even if that was far from the truth), resulted in kara reassuring herself mon-el would make her happy and that he is good for her. even though he wasn’t.

i mean, forcing yourself to date someone because 1) they like you, 2) almost everyone else around you is in a relationship, and 3) you've been taught dating is the norm, and if you don't, you're weird, is pretty much the standard asexual experience.

in the s3 crossover, kara's conversation with barry can also be seen as asexual-coded.

being asexual can truly feel so isolating sometimes. so i get it.

the end of s3 is so so great because kara finally accepts herself the way she is and is happy with that person. and guess what, the second she does so, her "need" to find a romantic partner disappears. she doesn't have a love interest in s4, and it is so refreshing to see.

also, here are some moments that scream ace!kara because why not.

in conclusion? kara is asexual CANON. have a nice day!

[leidensygdom]

re: my last post, but since this always kinda comes up what's actually like to be an ace person with no interest for sex, lemme easily sum it up

I am a sex repulsed person dating a sex neutral person, we've been in a relationship for 2 years. I'm probably somewhere on the aro spectrum as well, or at least I do feel quite disconnected with how the usual for romantic relationships runs.

We've had people poke at our relationship over and over- Surely two ace people who aren't interested about sex have something weird. People tend to think we simply run a very very secret sexual life, or we are maybe lying about it, or we are ultra repressed. Or celibacy, that's always fun too, there's gotta be some religious reason on why two people who are dating and living together aren't going at it-

Now, I won't ever get into the usual morbid curiosity people tend to have about ace people. Asexuality is often kinda tied to "victim of SA" and so on by allo people. Some are, some don't. Not something I need to share.

So, now. What is sex in our relationship? Imagine you suggest your partner to maybe go open your favourite game of choice, or rolling in wet dirt for a couple of hours. Not to judge someone who would like to roll in wet dirt, but the idea is unappealing to both of us. Gaming is far more fun. We could be being stupid in Terraria. Or maybe we could go out and have dinner, or maybe roll in wet dirt for two hours. We like eating out, we don't like rolling in wet dirt. We go eat out.

Rolling in wet dirt is not something you'd feel like doing, ever. It isn't in the back of our minds. Some people absolutely love it, the world is plastered with it, people for some reason tell you that "rolling in wet dirt" is in their minds, and you're like, "that's kinda odd, I can't imagine actively thinking about that?", but it's okay, you just don't do it. It isn't even a checklist or something you're even curious about trying. There's plenty of other things out there you don't wanna do- Maybe eating a brain seems super unappealing while others swear by it. Maybe bungee jumping is all exciting to some, but it's just not something you ever wanna do it yourself.

So, well, there we go. That's what sex is to us. It's one activity we just don't have interest for, the same way that rolling in wet dirt is not something we ever plan to do. There isn't a grand secret we're hiding, it's extremely simple in fact. being ace is often actually kind of unexciting, according to aros. But I gotta say I'm quite excited about having a Terraria session tonight.

[ckret2]

Hi, found you through your Hazbin fic "You've Got A Face for Radio" and just. I've already left a comment on the ao3 about the fic in particular, but I also wanted reach out to another aro ace person, because while I do think I am on the ace spectrum, I am still kind of figuring things out. I've talked to a few people about not experiencing attraction, at least in the form most people do, and what they say almost always boils down to "you'll know it when you feel it" and "maybe you've felt it but repressed it subconsciously", which, I know they mean well but, it's not what I think is the case. I'm just. Kind of stuck on the enjoying NSFW stuff if it's fictional characters bit. What even classifies as sexual attraction anyway? Who defines it when it can vary from person to person?

Anyway, I hope I'm not being a bother, it's just that your fic gave me a lot to think. I'd have sent a dm since this might become a discussion (if you're willing) but I'm not sure what the Internet etiquette is here.

"You'll know it when you feel it" "maybe you've repressed it" lmaooo if that isn't THE MOST COMMON line questioning aces/aros get. Have you got "maybe you haven't met the right person" yet? There probably isn't an ace/aro in the world who's explored their identity without some (hopefully) well-meaning but oblivious allo saying one of those things.

When they DO mean well, it comes from a place of not being able to imagine being ace/aro; it seems more likely to most allos that the attraction is hiding rather than absent entirely. You can rest assured that anybody who says that is expressing something about their own understanding of sexuality, rather than anything about their understanding of your sexuality.

Honestly and sincerely, the "enjoying NSFW stuff if it's fictional characters" bit is what personally delayed me from identifying as ace for, like, a decade longer than it had to. "Well hey, I love thinking about sex if it's some kind of alien or robot, that doesn't seem very ace; so I must not be ace, maybe I just haven't yet met a normal real-life person who's interesting enough for me." But that kind of thinking comes from not understanding what being ace is!

Because the criteria for being ace is actually a lot lower than most people think. It's not "never thinks people are attractive," or "disgusted by sexual situations," or even "never wants to have sex." Those can be part of the experience of asexuality but they aren't necessary. (Some aces think people are attractive, just not sexually attractive! Some aces want to have sex, they just aren't sexually attracted to the people they're having it with, they're interested in the act rather than the partner! It's a spectrum!)

The litmus test I personally use for "sexual attraction," and that's worked for a lot of people I know, is this:

Have you ever looked at somebody, thought they were hot, and automatically thought to yourself that you'd LOVE to have sex with them if the opportunity ever arose? Maybe not even realistically wanted that to happen, but just felt that as a gut feeling? Just thought yeah, it'd be hot to sleep with them with the same instinctive immediate reaction that you might, say, see something delicious and think "ohhh that looks so good I wanna eat that" or see a really cool trailer and think "I SO wanna see that movie"?

That's sexual attraction. You, personally, automatically feel like you wanna have sex with somebody—possibly even a stranger!—possibly even if you know you wouldn't actually really choose to do it IRL for whatever reason—just because they're sexy.

If you haven't experienced that specific feeling before, you're almost definitely some flavor of ace.

(And even if you HAVE experienced that feeling before you might still be ace—possibly some flavor of gray-ace or demi-ace. Some people do experience that feeling, but so so very rarely that they feel like their overall experience of sexual attraction is more ace than allo. Some people experience that feeling but ONLY toward somebody they have a deep emotional connection to, whereas allos can experience that feeling toward strangers. Some people experience that feeling but if actually faced with the OPTION to have that sex they're turned off. All of these are ways to be ace. So the litmus test isn't the be-all end-all; but if that feeling has NEVER happened to you, that's probably ace.)

Based on this ask and on the comment you left me on Ao3, I'm guessing your form of engagement with sexuality is like what I wrote about in the fic: reading about characters having wild nasty sex is great, could read smut and/or smutty comics all day, maybe you fantasize about your blorbos screwing, maybe you've gotten off to these fantasies or to smut... but: all your fantasies are about somebody else having sex. Probably somebody else who isn't even real.

Are you ever in those fantasies? How do you feel about "character x reader" fics, does being y/n turn you on or does it squick you out to imagine [character] flirting with YOU? Do you ever think "wow I'D like to fuck [character]" or is it only "I wanna see [character] fuck (but I don't wanna be there myself)"? If "you" ever ARE in these fantasies, is it actually YOU, REALLY YOU, or are you just imagining the fantasy from the perspective of another character who isn't you? Do you ever have a sexual interest in the actors/voice actors, or does your sexual interest in them vanish when you aren't viewing them as their (fictional) character?

I can't tell you whether you're ace; but I can tell you that "I'm ONLY interested in FICTIONAL characters doing EACH OTHER, and I would lose interest if they were real people" is not a normal/common allosexual experience.

And if you're into micro labels, there are a couple under the asexual umbrella that describes that exact experience. The current term is aegosexual. (Older term autochorissexual; that was the current term when I learned it so I still tend to use it lmao.) It's for people whose primary experience of sexuality is fantasies that they themselves aren't part of. It's not mentioned on the page I've linked, but a LOT of aegosexuals have reported that they're specifically most into fantasies about cartoon/drawn characters and other fictional characters—the more "real" they are, the less appealing they are.

(And there's the related term "aegoromantic"—I'm focusing on sexuality here since that's mainly what the ask focused on, and also because historically I've seen less people struggle with "I don't want romance, I just enjoy reading love stories; I must be aro" compared to "I don't want sex, I just enjoy reading smut; I must be ace.")

Learning the term autochorissexual/aegosexual and why it made sense to fit under the ace umbrella is what got me over the hurdle of "oh, hey, I guess I am ace"—if you think it describes your experience, I hope it can help you too. If not, it at least shows just how varied the ace experience can be.

(I'm answering this publicly because I've seen SO MANY PEOPLE grappling with "I like FAKE sex; does that mean I can't be ace?"—many of whom have contacted me because of that fic, shocked to see someone else describe their own experiences and call it a flavor of ace—so I'm hoping this might help other questioning aces/aros! But you're also welcome to DM me!)

[inezrable]

The relationship between my aspec identity and fictional characters (ramble under the cut)

(This is rushed and stream of consciousnessy as Hell. I'm sick and caffeinated rn and half of this is voice to text so wheeee) The thing is I think I like the idea of fictional characters but like I don't want to be in a relationship with them. Even with characters that I think objectively attractive and hot. I could never read an x reader fic for them especially anything rated above a T. Even G rated stuff can make me quite uncomfortable sometimes if it's shippy. I have tried writing some but don't enjoy writing kissing like that. I thought it was because I just didn't know how to write that stuff in second person or I was embarrassed. I looked at the Thirteenth Doctor/Reader tag (And I would say that in theory I am at least vaguely attracted to her) but I just couldn't read anything. I sort of thought that it was bc none of the fics were the exact thing I wanted but maybe I just like the idea of her. Crowley and Aziraphale, same thing. They are both very hot. And I can read about them doing all sorts of stuff if you catch my drift without being uncomfortable. But only with each other. Add "me" (The reader) into the equation in some very specific scenarios in my head? Sure. But normally I see it in 3rd person, especially if it's not something I'm into. And sometimes it's not even me in my imagination! It's just some vague, faceless OC! Maybe im aegosexual but i dont think that label quite fits, though thats probably to do with having to explain it and being asked "so you just read porn?" Or "So you're fictosexual? That's not a real thing." (Bullshit.) And so on. I definitely identify as aspec and am not attracted to real people but where on the asexual spectrum I am is a mystery to us all. I'm almost definitely aromantic too. I only ever have platonic crushes (squishes) and if I feel like I want "more" as the allos would say, I think I actually just want more physical contact with my friend or to be able to say "I love you" unironically without it being "weird". But yeah just because Peter Vincent in Fright Night (2011) makes me feel things in theory doesn't mean I actually want to date/fuck him in practice. Anyway if you read all of that for some reason, have a nice day

[bloggingboutburgers]

Reading your blog, I'm starting to see my relationship with my bf differently (we've been together for over a decade). Like, I've been questioning my romantic orientation for some time, suspecting I might be somewhere on the aromantic spectrum. But I realise I don't really have a clear image of what romance actually is and if it's something I have in my relationship. Like, he's my best friend. But what makes it different that a very close friendship? Apart, you know, the fact we live together and see each other every day. I'm also asexual so we don't really have sex, but for the very rare time I feel like doing something for him, but it's not really something we do, though I know sex and romance are to different things, straight people tend to say that the difference between friendship and dating is sex. I've heard allos saying "if I don't have sex with my s/o, what are we? Friends?" Anyway, I'm just more and more confused by what those criterias are for defining what is and what is not a romantic relationship. Love? I mean, love can have so many forms, how am I to regognise which one I feel? I just care about my bf. I like spending time together. We help each other on a daily basis. And when one of us need alone time we give as much time as the other needs. We do our things each in our corners and meet in the middle when we want company. We're happy this way. And that's great! I just can't comprehend what this all means. Sometimes I'm confused about the feelings I get for other people. Am I attracted to them or do I just want to smother them with my intense friendship? Which is hard. I sometimes feel like I love my friend to hard and I shy away during our interactions for fear to overwhelm them with my love. What's the difference between the two? Between my relationship with my bf and the friendship with those people I have to keep away sometime for fear to be "too much"? I'm sorry for these ramblings. You probably don't have the answers to this, but I needed to tell all this to someone that might understand at least some of it. I love your blog btw.

Sorry I'm replying so late – but thank you so much for all of this input, it's actually so interesting to hear your take on your own experience.

You're right, I don't have the answers, because every experience is very personal and I don't wanna project onto others, but there's a lot of points I actually relate to very much – like, I don't have a clear idea of what romance even is either, I just feel in my gut that it's not what I have with my queerplatonic partner. I guess in my own case I've also always had a bit of trouble with the idea of a "best friend" (like, I HAVE entertained the idea that this or that person might be my "best friend" at some points in my life, but I always end up coming back to the thought that I don't feel OK putting one person above others in my head – I work more in tiers made out of several people at once).

I might also be overthinking things but I often hear in the long-term-relationship discourse that romantic partnerships often wind up turning into friendship over time and that's OK – no idea how that works but it's interesting to think about, and I wonder if there's any truth to that on an aromantic spectrum basis? Like maybe... If both of us are on the aromantic spectrum, then maybe we just didn't get the "romantic high" part because we don't feel romantic attraction or feel it less than most people, and we're straight to that "friendship" part people talk about? ...Either way, what you describe with your bf sounds like a vibe, a healthy vibe to me. Sounds like you guys have it figured out and I wish you the best, honestly.

Also lol it really IS a useful and sobering reminder that to most allo people, the "sex = romance" idea is probably very prevalent still... Makes it even harder to figure ourselves out

Either way sorry for rambling and thank you SO MUCH for sharing your self-reflection, honestly, whatever conclusion you come to I hope life is good for you^^

[aspecpplarebeautiful]

I have a certain frustration when I talk to my allo friends and family about my anxieties towards growing older. It's hard for everyone right now, I completely understand that. But as soon as I talk to my partnered friends about how they have the benefit of two incomes to afford their one bedroom, their brains shut off and perceive it as me being jealous that I'm single. And maybe I am, but that's besides the point I'm trying to make, and that's that financially the only person I have to rely on is me. Which in practice is good, because you don't want to be financially dependent on someone else. However, it sure would make the one bedroom apartment much more feasible with someone else around.

I have no interest in partnering. I don't want a QPR. I don't want to be forced to put out new roommate listings every time my old one moves out to live with their partners. I want to be just as self sufficient as my friends, but i don't have the same safety nets that they do, financially, socially. Im not trying to say that the experience of being single and struggling is exclusively an aroace one at all, but at the same time it's a uniquely different perspective than I usually see when the subject is talked about? Idk. I'm sure someone has said it better than I can, but it's frustrating!!!

There are a lot of economic advantages to being married that single people do not get. I remember listening to a CBC segment on it a while back, it's not even just things like rent/housing, it's how you're taxed, it's how multiple systems are set up assuming people are paired up, etc. It's a very legitimate issue to be talking about.

I'm with you, Anon. I don't want a partner in any way, and I don't like roommates, and things just keep getting more expensive. It's discouraging.