#i say at 1am

[fraosinfandoms]

Just saw a post abt aroaceness and i felt like typingnout a whole post yapling abt my experience with being aroace and some FUN extras, shit grammar and typos included

To be more specific I am a demiromantic asexual that switches between being sex averse to sex repulsed. And while it doesn't contribute to my aroaceness it is also important to note that I am agender (they/them) and possibly panromantic but im to lazy to pick my brain abt that too much.

I realised I wasnt super interested in relationship stuff or the idea of dating someone way back when I was like 11. I even told my mom I would never have a boyfriend before I was 15, which she didnt believe. I first started identifying as demisexual when I was maybe 14 or smth, mainly bc I didnt realise there was a difference between sexual and romantic attraction. I also didnt super want to dig more into it bc despite uskng that label i still just saw myself as a straight ally (idk what I was on) and I never thought i could be part of the lgbtq+ community.

I also started identifying as demigirl around that time and using she/they pronouns. Clesrly my ass couldn't research properly bc i was so weong sbt that LMAO though ig thats part of the journey. Maybe a year later I also started doing some research on autism (trust me this is importsnt)

Then I eventually changed to calling myself asexual and shortly after demiromantic, and also as agender sometime after that idk its not like I wrote down the dates. Now that you know the entire backstory behind comign to the labels I use I can get to explaining how I feel.

It is important to note I use these labels to easily communicate how I feel, but I could 100% be more specific with existing labels if I wanted to. I dont want to though.

I love being ace. Not being sexually attracted to people doesnt bother me at all and I find the idea of it incredibly strange. This however does not mean i dont experience aesthetic attraction. Now bc i am still a minor as of writing this (2 months left guys) i wont go into my relation with sex and how I exactly feel abt that (thr most you get is the stuff stated at the start).

Now on the other hand, I hate being demiromantic. I am an absolute hopeless romantic. Id love to be in a nice cozy romantic relationship, however being demiromantic makes that very hard. It's mainly that in combination with my autism that makes it extra hard. Bc not only do i have to be very close to someone to be able to develop a crush on them, i am terrible at making friends in the first place and maintaining new friendships. Even if I get a crush (to any of my friends reading this, ignore! Or dont and confront me i cant stop you, you have free will) i would never in a million years tell them because i dont want to ruin a perfectly fine friendship. Either they dont like me back or we eventually break up, both perchance leading to awkwardness which might make us drift appart!!!! Cant let that happen now. It is incredibly unhealthy bc did you know that already having a strong attachment to a crush can make said crush last for 2-3 years? Absolute hell, i tell you. And then i am also never sure if it's actually romantic feelings or just really strong platonic ones (heck i still haven't figured it out after 3 years and then i get a new case to worry abt).

Anyway my thumb hurts from writing but if for some reason you are reading this and somehow you have a question my ask box is open.

[emthetimelady]

Alright I’ll actually get started on writing

[adhd-blurrs]

I'm keeping all my weird rables on here and I'm gonna include me stressin

weird medical problems under the cut (idk if i actually want advice i just need the words out and my boyf already knows everything lmao, warnings in the tags)

I'm giving myself permission to be gross, don't make me feel guilty for it, i know there's no one reading this anyway

I haven't pooped very much today. To be fair I havent eaten much of anything today or yesterday which propbably isnt helping. I ate like an unusual amount of apples recently (re: a week or two ago) also, something I haven't done in a bit so I wonder if it's connected at all?

Here's the thing though, I've got some mild abdominal cramping (I also started my cycle a few days ago, which also came with a UTI hooray) and there's some back pain that im experienceing also. When I have pooped today, its a very small amount and the consistency of a under-blended veg smoothie (fiberous? idk i haven't looked it up to give a descriptor) and I am consistently having discomfort like I would before a typical bowel movement but nothing happens. I try to get up and move around to help a little but it mostly just agitates the ache in my back and the pain from the UTI (specific sharp pain when I take a step seemingly connected to my urethra?? idk it's fucked up though)

I also threw up earlier today? Tbf it was after I was nearly hysterical emotionally, so I chalked it up to that in the moment but that's not something that's happened to me before so I'm skeptical. It also came out as a viscous, greenish-brown, foamy liquid with a phlegm-y consistency? Also something I've never experienced, and I didn't feel better or worse after the fact like I usually do.

basically: i have all the symptoms of an intestinal blockage but I have class tomorrow so maybe some morning anxiety will help me out and I really dont wanna go to a hospital since everything I see says that intestinal blockages are like.... immediate hospital stay kind of deal.... respectfully I don't have time for that so I'm gonna take a gamble instead and see if this goes away on it's own.

[noodles-and-tea]

☀️🌻✨

[pulsingvoid]

an ever-growing collection

[xxplastic-cubexx]

you open my Super Important Documents and its just pictures of charles xavier

[weatherera]

Re-Synthesized

[cool-person-yey]

kill me for this but i love dr stratt. like yes she's an horrible person in a lot of occasions so what. girl saw that the sun was fucking dying and that no one was going to fix it and said " fine. I'll do it myself". committed multiple crimes and the most unethical shit ever. girlboss.

[vivitalks]

zac pranking the chefs by saying "time for a secret rule, everyone go to a different station" vs zac immediately going "just kidding i'm just kidding" .5 seconds after because he respects them too much to scare them like that.......he gets it

[mellxncollie]

CHARLES ROWLAND in Dead Boy Detectives 1.06

[chiixcat]

Lan Jingyi the kinda guy who would take "Yiling Patriarch" and turn it into "Big Daddy Yiyi" or some shit

Wei Wuxian would probably find it at least half funny

[genomesoldier]

I need to shoutout the Chance player who shot his flintlock at me (Telamon) because I walked up behind him and scared him apparently

[mirick-vn]

our teacher told us to write an essay about any topic we'd like

sir, prepare to read paragraphs upon paragraphs about asexuality and aromanticism and how platonic relationships are just as good as everything else and not everyone has to have romance and sex in their lives to be fulfilled

[starstruckodysseys]

can you imagine being thirteen and having the world at your fingertips. everyone loves you - why shouldn’t they? you’re the epitome of a good girl, the ideal, the popular cheerleader type who gets The Guy. you giggle and you flirt with the football players and you have sleepovers with your friends (who don’t really feel like your friends but you’re all popular so you have to like each other, right?). you do your makeup and you bat your eyelashes and everything is perfect.

and then you start growing horns. you start looking like the devil - and you might as well be, the way everyone turns on you, starts looking at you as if you’re a freak, a monster. and, well, if everyone’s going to treat you as such, you might as well play the part, right?

so you rebel against your parents (if they’re not lying about that, too). you go out and you buy a bass guitar and you pluck at the strings until your fingers bleed. it’s better than listening to the arguments downstairs. you transform into people you’re not to pretend you could really be someone instead of the shell you are now. you flirt with guys twice your age to pretend you still have it in you, even if it feels hollow. you grin and you bear it but it’s hollow, in the end.

if you can’t be perfection anymore, why bother being anything?

(and then you meet the most wonderful people in your life. and they accept you as you are and don’t ask you to change. but you find yourself changing anyway, because they make you feel like you can be something. like maybe it’s worth it again. and you finally get The Girl. and maybe life isn’t perfection anymore, but maybe perfection is overrated, anyway.)

[favoure]

a lifetime of indentured servitude

used this frame from the mv of "femme fatale" by kedarui as ref for this piece ! just thought that it fit them perfectly orz

[aquared46]

Happy ao3 downtime. Have a little andreil fic. As a treat.

It was only because Neil recognized the cadence of the footsteps downstairs that his pounding heart calmed. He untangled his legs from the blankets, but didn’t rise from the bed. He listened as Andrew locked the front door, the pounding in his head and the sickness swirling in his stomach indicating he only managed about an hour of sleep. Vague images clung to the backs of Neil’s eyelids, a nightmare that slipped from his waking mind. Something Andrew had saved him from before he was even in the room.

Andrew wasn’t supposed to be back in South Carolina for another two weeks, obligated to spend time training with his team between games. Neil himself should’ve been on campus, ready for practice in the morning. Instead, Coach took one look at him yesterday afternoon and sent him away with orders to get some sleep. To give his vice captain a chance to practice for the real thing once Neil graduated in a few short months.

Neil couldn’t get any sleep at the dorms, but his and Andrew’s bed in Columbia called to him. Neil made the trip and collapsed into it, his mind wandering to the countless firsts they shared there rather than the onslaught of memories March brought.

Neil had survived three Marches since the riot, since his father’s people had delivered him to the basement in Baltimore. His fourth March should’ve been no different.

Except there was one thing Neil hadn’t accounted for: Andrew wasn’t there.

Neil was in his final year, Andrew was playing on a professional team states away, and Neil had never realized exactly how much he leaned on him in times like this. How the shared cigarettes steadied his hands, how Andrew’s palm on the back of his neck halted the crawling beneath his skin.

Objectively, he knew Andrew helped, but it was also something Neil should’ve been able to do on his own. It wasn’t something he wanted to burden Andrew with, something that pulled him away from his responsibilities because Neil couldn’t manage to get through just a few fucking days without nearly falling apart.

And now Andrew was standing in the doorway of their bedroom in Columbia, the light from the hall flooding into the room and illuminating Neil in all his disgrace. The sweaty skin, the greasy hair, the circles under his eyes, the t-shirt Neil had bundled under his head.

Neil had found it wedged between the nightstand and the bedframe, undoubtedly tossed aside carelessly on a good day that involved lots of kissing and touching. It smelled a bit like old sweat, but Andrew’s scent also clung to it, and Neil was far beyond denying himself such a simple comfort.

Andrew kicked the bedroom door closed, and Neil listened to his footsteps as he approached in the dark. There was a click as Andrew tugged the chain of the small lamp on the nightstand. Andrew always hated how bright the overhead light was.

Andrew gestured to Neil’s entirety. “This is not fine.” He snagged the shirt from under Neil’s head, wrinkling his nose before tossing it aside.

Andrew had called him just two days earlier. They’d talked as they always did, exchanging stories and sometimes just sitting in silence, knowing the other was there and listening. Except this time Andrew had explicitly asked how Neil was holding up, and Neil had said he was fine.

“I meant what I said.” Neil mourned the loss of the shirt, but tucked his face closer to the pillow, where some of the smell had transferred.

Andrew’s jaw tensed. “I thought you weren’t going to lie to me anymore.”

“I’m not.”

“Then you’re lying to yourself.” Something settled in Andrew’s gaze as he examined Neil, the tension in his shoulders easing. “And you’re an idiot if you think I’d make you bear this on your own.”

Andrew emptied his pockets on the nightstand, and Neil felt something loosen in him as well. As Andrew peeled off his jeans, Neil scooched over to make enough room on the bed.

“There were no games scheduled, so I got cleared for this time off weeks ago,” Andrew said as he slipped under the covers.

The relief Neil felt from his proximity didn’t lessen the weight of his glare. “And you’re telling me this now?”

“You should’ve known I’d be here for your yearly mental breakdown. At least you keep a consistent schedule. I was curious whether you’d be honest with me, but now I have to ask: Was it a lack of self-awareness or sheer bullheaded stubbornness that kept you from telling the truth?” Andrew was close enough Neil could feel the warmth radiating off him. “I didn’t believe you then, and your current appearance only validates that assessment. If I asked again what would your answer be now?”

Neil ignored his first impulse, which was to say he was fine. Not only was it the answer Andrew didn’t want, but it certainly wasn’t true. Frustratingly, everything Andrew said was right. The way Andrew could peel back his layers and see what was underneath used to be unsettling, but nowadays Neil found it reassuring. Even if it pissed him off. Even if Andrew told him things he didn’t want to hear.

“That I can’t sleep,” Neil said through gritted teeth. “That he’s the only thing I see when I close my eyes, and that I wish you were here.”

“That’s better,” Andrew said. “Certainly more believable.”

Andrew reached for Neil, settling his arm over his waist and tugging him closer. Neil sagged into the contact, shuddering with relief as he tucked his head under Andrew’s.

Neil breathed him in. “I should be able to bear this on my own.”

“You don’t have to. I’d rather be here when you don’t need me than be away when you do.” Andrew tightened his arm, tangling Neil’s legs with his.

Neil had been holding himself together by threads for the past few days. In Andrew’s arms, he was safe enough to let himself fall apart. His chest was tight, and he gradually lost the steady breaths he forcibly maintained.

Andrew held him through it, his fingers tapping an irregular rhythm on Neil’s spine. It was something Neil could focus on, something he could latch onto to draw himself back into his own body. Exhaustion crashed into him as soon as he did, but not before he made Andrew a promise.

“I’ll do better next time.”

“I know.”