#maybe a dash of asexual

[slut-4-remuslupin]

Me when I was hella confused about my sexuality and lowkey thought I was ~In Love~ with my Best Friend™ who’s an aspiring musician because he was Asexual—I love him platonically, he’s objectively a very attractive person, but I have zero sexual attraction to him, and if we dated that meant I could have a relationship with a man, and everything that came with it (hugging, cuddling, spending time together, maybe some romantic kissing here and there, etc.), AND I would never have to have sex! Literally the dream relationship!!!—and wrote some yearning ass soppy song about him;

He knew I write ‘songs’ aka lyrics without a melody, and he wanted to see some of my work to see if he could put a melody to it, and I showed him three of the songs I had, and HE CHOSE THAT ONE TO WORK ON😭

I think the most awkward moment in my life was sitting in his bedroom while he made a melody/sang the yearning ass song I wrote ABOUT HIM. He lives an hour away but I spent the whole weekend at his house, and I Stg I couldn’t look him in the eye the next 3 times I went over there

(Turns out I’m not, in fact, in love with him. I just have a complicated relationship with my sexuality, in that I <3 women, and I think men are attractive, I would like a relationship with a man, but I have zero interest in having sex with one💀)

how do i look bro in the eye knowing i wrote gay ass yearning poetry abt him last night

[coolaidstain]

Dear allosexuals:

Not every post a sex repulsed ace person makes about not liking sex is some kind of attack on sex positivity

Dear fellow Ace people:

Not every post an Allo person makes about enjoying sex is some kind of attack on asexuality

Get out of the notes of posts that clearly aren't about you and don't cater to you

You aren't helping anyone and are actually being really fucking annoying

[deepcreekvultures-writing]

"Stellar Collision"

Spencer Reid x F!Reader

Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Word Count: 8.2k

Content Warning: Mild injury, Description of injury, Smut, Fingering (F receiving), Penetrative Sex, Using Astronomy as a Plot Device

A/N: Please ignore any inaccuracies with the scientific stuff and the smut- I'm just silly and Asexual. I picture this as late season 4 Spencer, but you can picture whatever Spencer you want bbg.

Summary: Everyone knows you and Spencer Reid work well together- actually, the entire team thinks you two are the most oblivious profilers to ever work for the FBI, but c'est la vie- they figure you'll crash into each other eventually.

=======

Shaking the hand of the lead detective you introduce yourself before gesturing to Spencer who hovers behind you, “... and this is Agent Weirdly Sticky, a.k.a. Dr. Spencer Reid.”

Spencer’s face scrunches in an odd fusion of disgust, confusion, and amusement. He fights off the laugh that bubbles up and just lifts his hand in an awkward wave. Pressing his lips into a thin line to avoid the smile threatening to break out on his face. JJ elbows you in the ribs, earning a small ‘oomph’ as she pushes you aside. 

It had become routine at this point, calling him weird names to break the tension between the team and locals. Spencer’s hands rest on your shoulders to steady you as JJ takes over the conversation. You chuckle, following an officer into the precinct conference room to get everything set up. Hotch doesn’t say anything about your antics for once, resigning to just accept that there was no stopping you. 

“You really need to stop doing that, they’re going to think you don’t take things seriously.” Spencer mutters to you quietly, his hip lightly bumping into yours as the two of you stick photos onto the provided whiteboard.

“Yeah, maybe, but their face is worth it. It’s like they think federal agents can’t joke, so at first they believe me.” You giggle, sliding your hand around his waist, unceremoniously picking him up and pivoting him around you. You swap places with him quickly to tack a few pieces of evidence to the board.

Spencer lets it happen, not offering any help as you move him. Not that you need it, you were more than strong enough. “But “Agent Weirdly Sticky”? They’re going to think I don’t shower or something.”

You laugh, “At least they won’t try and touch you.” Looking at the board, you tilt your head a little. “The handwriting in each of these is so similar but look-” You point at two series of numbers, “one writes their seven with a dash, and the other doesn’t.”

Spencer leans forward to look at it, his eyes squinting as his mouth drops open in focus. 

“I swear you need to start wearing your glasses again.” You snort, reaching out and placing your fingers under his chin to push his jaw closed. 

He bats your hand away, “Glasses obstruct my peripherals.”

“But you look cute with them.” You argue, sliding to stand behind him, “I miss them.” 

Flattening your hands, you place them on either side of his head, blocking his peripherals. He ignores you, trying to focus on the pages in front of him rather than the warmth radiating off of your palms. Only moving when his phone rings, you drop them on his shoulders, turning him a little so you could grab his phone from his front pocket. 

“Hey Garcia, what’s up?” You greet, “...yeah, it’s me, what do you have for us?”

The investigation continues like that, the two of you revolving around each other, splitting up only when necessary, bouncing profiles off of the other.

Everyone knew you worked well together. Spencer was comfortable around you, not as stiff and one track minded as he would be working alone. He turned to you for most things, and sometimes when working through things in his mind he would just stare at you- Managing to find most of his answers in the curve of your nose and the color of your lips. 

You mellowed out around Spencer, his ramblings filling empty spaces almost like a living white noise machine. It was hard for most people to believe how abrasive and short fused you could be working alone. Irritation ran rampant with local PD getting in the way, suspects being difficult, media running with half baked stories; whenever the tension in your jaw threatened to spring into a full on rage, Spencer was always there.  

“You’re telling me you released the profile to the press even though we specifically told you not to?” Your eyebrows raise, hands pushing your sleeves up to your elbows.

“The public needs to know what they’re dealing with.” The detective crosses his arms over his chest, lifting his chin in challenge.

“Yeah? Well now our Unsub knows exactly what to change to avoid us, this guy is smart and he is watching.” Your voice raises slightly, shoulders squaring as you step chest to chest with the man. “From this point on, you release nothing to the press without approval from our Liaison or SSA Hotchner.” 

The detective snorts, shaking his head, “Oh yeah? And who are you to tell me what to do?”

Spencer instinctively reaches out, hooking his finger around your belt loop. He tugs you backwards, putting space between you and the focal point of your mounting rage. You don’t relax, but you let him pull you back.

“I’m the woman who’s gonna punch a hole through your spinal cord.” Your tone is icy, and he can almost hear your jaw pop from how hard you’re clenching your teeth. Spencer keeps his finger hooked on your belt loop, cringing slightly at the threat. 

It’s not that he disagrees with you, it was out of line for them to release a statement to the public without the team’s permission; and it’s not that he thinks you can’t back up your statement, he is well aware that you can. Spencer just didn’t want you to get suspended for assaulting an officer. Again.

Hotch approaches, stepping between you and the detective, and- to your relief- backs you up.

“If you release anything more to the public you can consider that little boy as good as gone. If you want us to be able to catch the unsub before it’s too late, it’ll do you well to listen to my agents.” His sharp gaze lingers on the man’s face before he turns to you, “Go cool off, and stop threatening people.” 

You nod and turn to leave, missing the small tilt of Hotch’s head, gesturing for Spencer to go with. He obliges, quickly rushing after you. 

Pacing around in the conference room, you keep your arms folded, chewing on the nail of your thumb.

“Sit.” Spencer pulls out one of the chairs, and you follow his instruction. Having gone through this routine again and again, you move a few stacks of papers, opening up a space for him to sit on the table’s glossy surface.

“I was reading up on star systems, and typically stars will orbit around each other in small or large groups- but most are trinary with only three stars…” Spencer hops up onto the table, crossing his legs under himself. He settles into his position, leaning his arms on his legs as he watches your face. 

He can tell by the way your head tilts that you’re listening, unconsciously bringing your ear closer to him. Folding your arms across your chest again, you roll your jaw to relieve the tension from the joint. He pays attention to your demeanor, watching the pressure between your eyes melt away. Crossing your legs, you tilt your hips, turning your body to face him though your gaze stays cast to the floor. Spencer responds by unfolding his legs, stretching them out to rest his feet on the apex of your thigh. 

Hands finding their way to the laces of his converse, you untie and retie them as his melodic droning fills the room. You keep yourself from looking at him, wanting to hold onto your anger for just a little longer. Spencer knows that you would’ve stewed in your fury for hours alone- and it seemed that Hotch knew the same. 

“... but then you have star systems that are just two stars- a binary system. The Sirius star system is the most well known, but Sirius A is a lot bigger than Sirius B. Sirius B is a white dwarf- which has around the same mass as our sun but condensed into a star not much bigger than the earth.”

“Without the extra gravity from another star like in trinary systems… Do binary stars collide a lot?” You ask and Spencer beams, happy that you were finally relaxed enough to fully engage.

“Actually, it’s pretty rare for them to collide. They stay stable for the most part, but when they do collide it’s most likely due to their stability being thrown off by the exchange of mass or gravitational radiation.” Unlacing his left shoe fully, you replace them upside down, tying the bow at the toe of his converse. He expected you to do the same with the other shoe, but you leave it asymmetrical. 

Lifting your gaze from his shoes, your eyes settle on his face. Spencer chews on his bottom lip, looking for any underlying stress in your features. He finds none.

“So, when a stellar collision occurs, the way it reacts depends on what kind of stars were involved in the collision. Like, if it was a set of white dwarfs, the gravitational radiation would cause them to spiral inwards and-”

Spencer is cut off by JJ poking her head in the room, “Hey, the unsub responded to the statement they released.”

You sigh, “Come on, Gorgeous, you can tell me more later.” pushing Spencer’s feet off of you before standing. You lead the way out of the conference room. As he follows, he tries to ignore the way his face warms when you call him gorgeous. He knew it was stupid to focus on your little nicknames- you use them often enough that he should be used to it by now- but his heart flutters all the same.

Spencer stands at your side, his slender fingers finding their way back around your belt loop. He didn’t think you would do anything, but local cops could be unpredictable.

A few feet away, Emily leans over to Morgan, “So how long have they been dating?” She asks.

Morgan looks at her, quirking an eyebrow, “Who?”

“Reid and his attack dog, duh.” She points to the two agents attached at the hip next to JJ. Morgan snorts, covering his mouth with his hand.

“They’re not,” He shrugs, laughing when Emily’s head snaps to look at him, “I know- I know, we like to say they are, they just don’t know it yet.”

Emily looks back at the two of you, noting how you lean back into him. Your head tilts up and you whisper in his ear, motioning to whatever the unsub had sent loosely. “You’re kidding…”

“I wish I was,” Derek shakes his head, moving to place his hands on his hips, “you’re looking at a four year relationship between the two most oblivious profilers in the FBI.”

The entire team has thought the two of you were dating at some point- even Gideon before he left. In the beginning, Hotch came to the conclusion that the two of you lived together and got into the habit of only calling one on the assumption that you would arrive together. And you did. Always.

With the unsubs response, you and Spencer manage to put together a solid lead to who exactly you’re looking for. You hand the letter to Spencer, and break away to call Garcia- still with Spencer’s phone.

Garcia locates the unsub and the team hits the road. After securing your own bulletproof vest, you approach Spencer. Undoing the velcro on the sides of his vest to redo them. The velcro ripping apart is loud, drawing the attention of Rossi. He makes a face, looking over at Hotch and Derek who shrug in response. 

You make sure they’re snug, sliding your hands along the curve of his waist. Moving on to the straps over his shoulders, your face scrunches a little in focus. Your hands are warm, radiating their heat onto the skin of his neck. Spencer watches you, your lips parted slightly, the tip of your tongue fitted between your teeth. You shimmy the vest, eyes roving over his torso to make sure there were no loose points. 

Satisfied, you pat the FBI emblem on his chest, turning away without a word.

As the team approaches the house, you enter ahead of him. Moving methodically through the hallways, indicating clear rooms through your intercom. You enter the garage slowly, Spencer following closely behind you. 

“FBI, drop the gun and show me your hands!” You have your gun on the unsub, expression stone cold. The man huffs, sweat dripping from his nose and he switches between pointing the barrel of his hand gun at you or Spencer. He seems to settle on the latter and you step forward, rushing the unsub who in turn shoots. 

Spencer expects impact, but it doesn’t find him. Instead, coupled with the dull ringing in his ears from the shot, he can hear the crack of the man’s nose as the butt of your pistol slams into it. You gently push the little boy the unsub was holding towards Spencer, who cradles him to his chest. 

“We have the kid- garage.” He can hear you gasp into your intercom, the breath knocked from your lungs at the impact of the bullet. Slamming the unsub into the concrete and cuffing him, you attempt to take in air. The grimace on your face isn’t from rage, he can tell that much, the tension is sat in your throat rather than your jaw.

Once the man is cuffed beneath you, your knee holding his arms in place as he squirms, you huff. Long, drawn out, breaths are pulled into your lungs. Expanding them slowly as you feel the searing, white hot, tendrils of pain erupting from the base of your ribcage.

===  

“I’m fine,” You assure him for the fifth time since the team got back to the precinct. He goes to say something, but you hold up your hand, your finger pushing against his forehead, “Yes. I promise.”

“But-” He grabs your wrist, “but, even if you were shot in the “bulletproof” vest, the vest isn’t actually bulletproof. You could have bruised or cracked ribs, internal bleeding, even organ damage-”

Wiggling your arm out of his grip, you slap a hand over his mouth, “I got checked out by the paramedics, I’m fine.” He grumbles but nods, his eyes soft as he silently pouts. “Perfect, now go pack up your stuff.”

He slinks away, still pouting. Packing up the things in the conference room slowly, his worry plaguing his demeanor. You frown as you watch him. Making Spencer upset was the last thing you wanted to do.

Morgan slides up next to you, “Hey there rockstar, I know you’re just trying to reassure him. How is it really?”

Sighing, you rub a hand over your face, “He shot me at close range, the bullet pierced through and I’ve got the most wicked bruise and it hurts to breathe- but I’m definitely not telling him that.” 

Morgan laughs, his eyebrows raised in concern. “You know he just worries, let him take care of you.” He pats your shoulder in support, stalking away as Spencer comes back, bag slung over his shoulder. 

Landing back in Quantico, Spencer finds his way into your car- something he had taken a liking to. You were a good driver, and Spencer didn’t really like driving all that much. Having to focus on so many things means that he can’t talk as much as he wants to. But he sinks comfortably into the passenger seat of your car. His shoulders drooping as he leans his head back on the head rest. 

He tucks his duffel under his legs, relishing in the leg room your car offered. Since he was the only one who really rode with you he had the seat set how he liked.

“Are you gonna finish your rant about stellar collisions?” You ask, your voice soft as it carries over the sound of the car’s A/C. He turns his head, eyebrows furrowing slightly in confusion. You laugh, “You were explaining what would happen if two white dwarfs crashed into each other. Are you sure about that eidetic memory thing?” 

He rolls his eyes at your teasing, but he straightens up in his seat, taking a second to remember where he left off. 

“So, the two white dwarves would emit gravitational radiation, or waves, which would cause their orbit to become unstable- which would in turn cause the stars to spiral into each other,” He uses his hands as a model, “and once they collide, the force causes carbon fusion to ignite. White dwarfs are basically dead stars that no longer support fusions, but the fusion is re-ignited by the merge.”

You nod along, turning into the parking lot of your apartment building. Spencer is confused, usually you would drop him off first, but he decides to keep his question to himself, “And since the dwarfs are made up of that degenerate matter, the equilibrium needed to keep the merge stable is pretty much non-existent. So the thermal pressure combined with the unstable weight of them crashing into each other causes a full blown supernova.”

“Supernova, huh? That’s pretty cool.” You grin, putting the car in park. You turn your head to look at him, and he stays silent. A soft smile rests on his face, and he takes the time to memorize the way the warm lighting of the street lamp shines on your soft features.

You turn off the car, pocketing your keys as you open the car door, “I need your help with something really quick, then I’ll drop you off at home, okay?”

“Yeah, no, of course.” He gets out of the car, mindlessly grabbing his bag as he rushes to catch up with you. Unlocking your ground floor apartment, Spencer shuffles in after you. He kicks off his shoes, nudging them into a neat position with his foot before placing his bag next to them.

You shrug off your jacket, hissing lightly as you slowly stretch your arms over your head. Motioning with a small tilt of your head, you lead him further into your apartment, flicking on a few lights as you do. 

After all these years of knowing you, Spencer hadn’t been to your apartment much. He liked how homey it felt, dark wood furniture scattered around neatly, warm lighting, and a little clutter here and there. It was very you.

Opening the door to your bedroom, you usher him inside. Your hand was on his lower back to guide him, “Chill out, Pancake, I just need you to help me change my bandage.” You chuckle, pushing him a little firmer as he hesitates. You separate from him to grab the first aid kit from your bathroom, setting it down on the mattress when you return.

“I thought you said you were fine?” He asks, tilting his head and furrowing his eyebrows a little.

“I am, but I might’ve just told you that because I didn’t want you worrying.” Your confession frustrates him and he crosses his arms, “Don’t look at me like that you Grackle, just help me out, please?”

Spencer nods, dropping his hands at his sides, stuffing them into his pockets. He watches as you shuffle through the contents of your first aid kit. His hand mindlessly lifts to scratch at the inner part of his right elbow. Without looking away from your task, you reach one of your hands behind you. Gently hooking your fingers around his, you push his hand away.

“Okay, so, it definitely looks worse than it is.” You warn, turning to him. Before he can ask what you mean, you start unbuttoning your shirt. His head snaps to look away, the tense joint in his neck cracking at the force. 

His cheeks warm, his hands coming up to fiddle with his tie. Keeping his eyes averted, he wills himself to stop thinking all together. All trains of thought chug their way back to you, your face, your lips, your bare torso- he has to stop thinking. Blank. Blankness.

“Uh, if you’re gonna help me I kinda need you to look,” You chuckle awkwardly. He slowly turns his head, feeling like his head is sitting atop a stack of rusty gears. To both his relief and utter disappointment, you were wearing a tanktop. He doesn’t have time to decide if he should choose between the two, you shrug off the button up before quickly pulling the tank top over your head.

Spencer was afraid he wouldn’t be able to tear his eyes away from your chest, clad in a black bra, but his eyes were immediately drawn lower. At the base of your ribcage sits a large mass of purple and red splotchy skin spreading out from underneath a bloodied bandage. His mouth falls open when he sees it, his eyes flicking between your face and the bruising over and over. 

“Like I said,” you raise your hands, “It looks worse than it is. The bullet pierced through the vest a little and it hit skin.”

“What? Do you have any broken ribs, any organ damage, what if you’re bleeding internally?” He rushes, his hand cupping the curve of your ribs. His thumb grazes over the edge of the bandage.

Tensing at his touch, you respond swiftly, “I have a broken rib, a few fractures and a ton of bruising. The ribs took the brunt of the force, no organ damage.”

“That you know of-” 

You shush him, placing your hand over his. His fingers were warm against your bare skin. Making no move to remove his hand fully, you gently slide his hand lower to rest in the dip of your waist. He lets out a shuddering breath, briefly distracted by the softness of your side. 

Peeling back the bandage, you wince, swallowing the hiss bubbling at the back of your throat. The center of the impact was so red it looked black, the dark purple skin surrounding it giving the illusion of a black hole. Reminding himself of what exactly he was here for, Spencer sits on your bed, guiding you by your waist to stand between his legs.

He gets to work, gingerly removing his hand from your side to grab the contents of your kit. Working silently, he focuses on being as gentle as possible while also assessing the damage. His eyes squint softly, his jaw hanging open as he disinfects it. You watch him, your head tilted downwards, noting every small mole or freckle you can as you try to ignore the burning ache in your abdomen- both physically and metaphorically. 

Having him this close was supposed to be the norm, right? The two of you had been closer than anyone on the team for almost 5 years. But your heart pools into your stomach, settling itself in your wound. Just for the chance to be cared for by his hands. 

Spencer’s hands, warm and lightly calloused, slide along your ribs as softly as he can manage. His long, slender fingers, guiding a new bandage into place.

You had never considered that Dr. Spencer Reid would ever return your simmering feelings. Sure, he went along with your teasing, let you manhandle him, calmed you down, turned to you for everything, cried on your shoulder, comforted you. But that was just him, right? He was like that with everyone… Right?

No. Spencer was sweet, yes, but you knew. He was different around you, more open, more playful. Everyone on the team knows how you revolve, bound to each other via some inexplicable force. He knows how you like your tea, he knows what snacks you like, he knows the ins and outs of your past relationships. But he knows everything, from the probability of finding a four-leaf clover, to quantum physics. You weren’t special.

But once he’s done securing the bandage just beneath your sternum, he looks up at you. His eyes rounded and shining, their honey-like color looking richer than ever. 

And you feel like the only woman in the universe. 

It’s hard not to feel like you’re completely under his spell when the warm hazel color of his eyes bore into your own. The patterning on his irises were just as enchanting, throwing you into the labyrinth that has held your heart at its center for the past 4 years. 

“How often do you need to change it?” He whispers, suddenly finding himself closer to you, his warm breath wafting over the center of your chest. 

“Just once a day after this.” Is your breathy response. Your hands lift, gently pushing the front pieces of his hair behind his ears, “Your hair is getting long.”

“Should I cut it?” He asks, gaze unwavering. You shake your head no, brushing your fingers through his soft brown waves. The touch is attentive and gentle. The air grows thick with every passing moment, bathing every touch in an intimate nature. 

Spencer’s hands linger at your sides, fingers ghosting along your waist. He looks up at you, his eyes somehow softening further. You almost melt on the spot, your hands finding their place at the nape of his neck. Mindlessly, you press the pads of your thumbs into the space just below his skull. The pressure alleviates some of the tension in his neck, his eyes fluttering closed as you begin to move them in a circular motion.

“You really worry too much…” You murmur, face flushing as you watch his expression melt into contentment. 

“Hard not to when you’re rushing at a sociopath with a gun…” He mumbles in response, looking at you through his eyelashes. “Especially when this bullet was meant for me.” His thumb slides over the bandage, his bottom lip jutting out a little as his eyes round at the edges. 

That damn puppy dog look. You hated it. He used it in any situation where he wasn’t getting his way. He knew it worked on you, probably thinking that you just thought he was too cute to resist. Not quite, as much as you did think it was cute- it was just such a turn-on.

Scoffing, you push away the mounting arousal pooling in your stomach, “Neither of us died, so I call it a win…” his gaze doesn’t waver, clearly seeking to break you, “Stop looking at me like that.” You grumble, placing a hand over his eyes. 

Spencer laughs, reaching up to pull your hand away. His fingers curl around you, sliding against the sensitive skin of your inner wrist. “Like what?”

Rolling your eyes you sigh, “Come on, Handsome, don’t be coy. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

His fingers slide up your wrist, spreading out to flatten your palm. Spencer’s hands are large, enveloping yours easily as he intertwined his fingers with your own. You had spent the last 4 years perfecting the art of hiding the way you feel about Spencer. But it was impossible to hide what he was doing to you here and now.

After years in steady orbit of each other, you were finally spiraling inwards.

He keeps his right hand intertwined with yours, his other hand sliding up your torso slowly. He keeps his eyes trained on your face, watching the miniscule changes in your flushed expression. His fingers slide along the band of your bra. The texture of the lace rubs along the pads on his fingertips. He guides his hand up, breathing shakily as it ghosts over the apex of your chest. You bristle at the contact, your hand gripping his tightly in an attempt to keep your composure. 

The only thing breaking up the silence permeating the room is the uneven breathing shared between you. Spencer takes his time, tracing the outline of your collarbone. He follows the line of it, dipping his index and middle finger into the center crevice of your clavicle. Dragging his fingers up the center of your throat, his short, dull nails lightly scratching the sensitive skin. You let out a strained hum, his fingers feeling the vibration of your vocal chords. His inner thighs press against the outside of your own, reminding you of how exactly you ended up here.

Following the line of your jaw, his knuckles gently tilt your head down. He keeps his eyes locked on you, still giving you that dreaded doe eyed stare. Once his hand reaches your face, he tears his gaze from your eyes, following his fingers as he caresses the soft skin of your cheek.

Turning his hand, Spencer lets his slender fingers flatten against your jaw. His thumb runs along your bottom lip, tracing the warm skin and gently pressing into it. Watching as the color of your lips changes with the light pressure, he finally speaks.

“The reason your heart races, or you feel nervous when you’re in love… is because of the sudden release of hormones. Dopamine, Cortisol, and Norepinephrine spike, but the mood stabilizer, Serotonin, drops.” His thumb gently tugs on your bottom lip.

“Do I make you nervous, Dr. Reid?” You whisper, your lips gently pressing into the pad of his thumb. Reaching up your free hand, you gently slide it under the front of his cardigan. Pressing it into his chest you could feel his heart hammering behind his ribcage.

Spencer nods, his bottom lip fitting between his teeth as he looks up at you. His face is flushed, the heights of his cheekbones radiating heat from the blood pooling beneath his skin. Adjusting in his seat, he pulls his legs towards himself, fitting one of his knees between your legs to spread them apart.

You look at him in surprise, but he dips his gaze to watch what he was doing. He puts his knees together, placing them between your own. Spreading his legs, he hooks them around your calves, forcing you forward. Yelping, you try your hardest not to collapse into him. You manage to get one of your knees onto the mattress before he fully knocks you over. Ignoring the way his gaze lingers on your flushed face, you settle into his lap, knees on either side of his hips.

Spencer could feel the strap of your thigh holster pressing into his leg. He unclasps his hand from yours, sliding it up your knee. He finds the buckles on the two straps digging into the flesh of your thigh. Maintaining eye contact while he unclasps them, you lift yourself off of him so he can take it off easier. He discards it onto the other side of the bed before letting his hand fall back to rest on your thigh. Spencer was constantly searching your face for approval, touching you slow and simple- He always made it a priority to make you comfortable. Mirroring his other hand, the one holding your face slides down the side of your torso to cup your thigh.The pressure of his touch increases, kneading your muscles through your jeans.

Your hands rest on his shoulders, gripping them lightly as he touches you. Growing restless, you reach down to unbutton his cardigan, sliding it off of his shoulders. He assists in taking it off, throwing it haphazardly across the room. His hands return to their places, but he tilts his head a little, his lips parting as his eyes slide across your face. 

Rocking your hips forward pulls a soft moan from his lips, his fingers curling into your thighs. “I- I don’t… think we should do this…” He gasps, contradicting himself as his hands slide up to your hips, pulling you against him again. 

“We don’t have to…” You gasp in response, the stimulation only slightly dulled by the thick material of your jeans. 

“I want to- but, you’re injured.” He mumbles, leaning forward to press his lips against your collarbone.

You shake your head, sighing at the feeling of his warm lips, “You won’t hurt me.” Loosening his tie, you pull it over his head and toss it to the side.

“I could- not on purpose, but strenuous activity should be avoided during recovery.” Spencer argues, his voice weakened by the way your hips slide into his. His breath falls from his lips heavily, fanning your face as you lean in close.

Laughing, you turn your head to press a kiss to his temple, “It doesn’t feel like you want to stop.” You could feel him underneath you, already straining against his slacks. He swallows, his Adam’s apple sliding up and down. The hands on your hips tighten their grip, digging into your flesh. He keeps his eyes on you, leaning forward to press a small kiss to your sternum.

Spencer’s hands knew exactly what to do. Sliding over the apex of your hips, his thumbs pressing firmly into your soft skin. Traveling slowly up, the weight of his palms kneading your sides as the tips of his fingers find the band of your bra. The pressure of his touch lightens as he lifts his palms off of you. His fingers curl slightly, leaving just a few fingertips touching the lacy fabric. 

Reading you like a book, his hands circle around to your back. Finding the clasp, he makes quick work of undoing your bra. He makes no move to fully remove the garment, just flattening his hands against your exposed back. His fingers press into your spine, running along the outsides of it.

You slide the bra off, throwing it over your shoulder to join your shirt and his cardigan on the floor. His eyes leave yours, trailing along your skin, uninterrupted by fabric. One hand stays on your back, the other sliding around your side. The pressure of his touch lightens as he reaches your front, very careful to not disturb your injured ribs. 

His hand flattened on your torso scoops the underside of your breast, his thumb caressing the soft skin. Watching how your body molds to the shape of his hand, his lips part slightly, almost studying you. 

Spencer presses a few more kisses to your sternum, slowly making his way up to your collarbone. Your hips continue to slide against his, pulling soft breathy moans from the both of you. His noises are muffled by your neck as he presses his lips to the center of your throat. It almost hurts how badly you want him, your desire clouding over any possible pain stemming from your ribs.

Moving as quickly and as gently as possible, Spencer twists his body. He slowly lowers your back to the mattress, settling between your legs as he hovers over you. He continued to grind against you, the feeling of him through four layers of clothing was enough to drive you up the wall. 

It dawned on you then how easy this felt.

Just like everything with him, it all came to you like the most natural thing in the universe. The two of you had spent years memorizing everything about each other. You never thought it would translate so well into this situation. Then again, you never thought it was possible for you to end up in this position with him. Your hands find the buttons of his shirt, unfastening them quickly as his mouth finds your throat again. He takes his time exploring the warm skin of your neck, very gently nipping at your pulse. He takes in every noise he draws from you, filing them away in his mind with every roll of his hips. 

Just as easily as the dusk slides into the quiet of night, you turn to putty in his hands.

Trying to focus on getting his shirt off, you’re distracted by the intense way he kisses your neck. You hadn’t really expected Spencer to be so… possessive with his mouth, but in hindsight it made sense to you. 

He was possessive in other ways, always taking the seat next to you on the jet, calling dibs on partnering with you, not letting anyone else help you if he was nearby, getting pouty when your attention was drawn elsewhere. Listening to his heavy breathing as his warm, open mouthed, kisses press into your throat you’re suddenly aware of every way he’s laid his claim on you to the people around you.

To everyone else, you were his.

His hands hold your chest, squeezing and caressing the soft skin. Spencer’s teeth slowly drag along the side of your neck, biting you very gently, careful not to leave any marks where anyone would see. Your breathing comes out heavy and labored, your face scrunching slightly as you feel the strain of your ribs with each breath.

Spencer’s large palms slide down your torso after one last squeeze, finding the hem of your pants. He quickly gets your belt off, letting it clatter to the floor and unbuttoning your jeans. Pulling away from your neck. his eyes meet yours as he hooks his fingers over the hem of your underwear. He shimmies them down the length of your legs along with your pants, tossing them across the room carelessly. Pupils dilated wide, he drinks in the look of you like a starved man. His hand finds its way to your cheek, his eyebrows furrowing slightly at the pained look on your face. His thumb presses against the space between your brows, smoothing out the tension building there as your chest rises and falls heavily.

“Try to relax your breathing,” He whispers, pressing his lips to your cheek. His hand slips away from your face, the soft noise of his silver belt buckle unfastening filling your ears. Attentive kisses are pressed along the perimeter of your face, urging you to try and calm your racing heart. 

The air around you is cold, a stark contrast to the ever growing heat pooling between your legs. His warm chest presses against yours, one hand curling around your knee, the other sliding along your bare inner thigh. 

A soft moan falls from your lips, “You’re not exactly helping,” You whisper, feeling his lips press against your temple.

“It doesn’t feel like you want to stop,” He replies, throwing your words back at you as his fingers slide against your clit teasingly. You writhe underneath him, your hands sliding up to tangle in his hair. Trying your hardest not to move too much as his fingers slowly circle the bundle of nerves. If you move too much and aggravate your ribs, you might have to stop. His slender fingers slide along you, dipping into your entrance briefly before continuing to tease. You whine, lifting your hips to meet his hand as best as you can. 

As much as Spencer wants to keep teasing, his need to please you overwhelms any other desire that may be festering. He pushes his middle finger into you, kissing the corner of your mouth as a guttural moan is pulled from your lips. 

His thumb finds your clit, rubbing soothing circles into it as his finger fucks into you. His face remains pressed into yours, kissing along your cheekbone lovingly. Adding his ring finger, he pushes it into you slowly and allows you to adjust to the difference in size. His long, slender,  fingers slide in and out of you, the ministrations deliberate and slow. 

Despite the slow pace of his hand, the length and size of his fingers provides overwhelming stimulation. You had always loved how large his hands were, spending nights wondering and fantasizing about how they would feel touching you like this. But this was way better than any piss poor scenario you could dream up. 

Your head falls back onto the pillow, mouth hanging open as deep, breathy moans fall from your lips. Hissing a bit, you try to calm your breathing.

“Don’t stop…” You sigh out, knowing he was noticing the way your breathing changes in kind to the pain spreading from your fractured bones. Spencer listens to your request, his fingers curling slightly. The sensation draws out a loud gasp as the tips of his fingers press into you. Your hands move down his neck, sliding along his back. 

Your head swims with intense pleasure, not bothering to care about how badly your ribs hurt with every breath you take. Spencer’s name falls from your mouth like a mantra, eyes closing as you focus on not writhing underneath him. Hands pressing into his shoulder blades you pull him flush against you, feeling his hard length against your inner thigh as he pushes you closer to the edge with his fingers. 

The way he presses into your inner thigh pulls a small noise from the back of his throat. He speeds up the way his fingers fuck into you, rutting against your thigh instinctually to keep the friction going. His thumb presses into your clit, the pressure firmer as he continues to circle around it. The feeling draws out a strained moan from your lips, your hips jerking involuntarily. 

Spencer can feel you starting to fall apart underneath him, his lips pressing firmly into your neck. His soft gasps and moans muffled by your warm skin as he uses your thigh. Tightening around his fingers, your legs shake, and you mumble his name over and over. Biting down on your lip, his free hand slides just under your breast, holding your torso down when he feels your back begin to lift from the bed. Your orgasm crashes over you and the room spins, tremors vibrating through your spine.

You gasp, panting to try and catch your breath. His lips find your face again, smothering your cheeks and nose with affection as you come down from your high slowly. His desperate grinding against your thigh pulls you back to reality and you gently push on his shoulder to get his attention.

“Spencer… I need you…” You whine, your hands cupping his face. Taking his bottom lip between his teeth, he nods. There’s a soft twitch to his face when he pulls his hips away from your thigh, his eyes searching yours for final approval. You nod, adoring the amber color at the center of his irises.

Gripping himself in his hand, he takes a second to slide his tip through your folds, pulling a desperate moan from the both of you. The tenderness left from your last orgasm causes you to whine and throw your head back onto the pillow. 

“Wait…” He gasps, looking up at you, “I- do you have a condom?” 

You can’t help but laugh a little, shaking your head, “I’m on birth control, it’s fine… please.” Your fingers curl and play with the long hair at the nape of his neck. 

He hesitates, seemingly working through the probabilities and statistics of not using one, but he nods. Spencer looks back down, lining himself up with you. One hand on your hip, the other wrapped around himself. 

“Tell me to stop if you need to,” He says, voice shaking with his heavy breathing. You nod, eyes locked on his features. The shadows of his face as he hovers over you are dark, seeping into the dips and curves of his brow and cheek bones. He looked ethereal.

When his tip pushes into you slowly, you gasp. His mouth finds yours, kissing you needily as he works his way inside of you. 

Spencer breathes heavily into your mouth as his fingers dig into the flesh of your outer thighs, “I… I love you.” He declares, his lips moving against yours with fervor.

Your fingers tangle into his hair, his kisses not allowing you to verbally reciprocate. You loved him. There was no doubt about that. But when he’s fully inside of you, filling you completely, there is nothing you can do to stop the way you ignite underneath him.

Moaning into his mouth, your legs shake from your earlier orgasm. He gives you time to slowly adjust, shivers running up and down his spine as your muscles flutter around him. Spencer slows down his kisses, resorting to soft presses as he waits for your signal. 

After a moment you nod, whispering a soft “I love you” and kissing him in return. With your quiet permission, he pulls his hips back. Letting out a strained groan, his lips loosely against yours, he rolls his hips back into you.

The feeling of you wrapped around him completely, your hands in his hair, your mouth against his. There is nothing that can compare to this. Nothing.

Spencer rocks into you slowly, keeping your hips pressed against the mattress. The angle is perfect, and the least likely to aggravate your rib cage. He’s fully in tune with how you feel underneath him, his hands gently sliding over your hips in a soothing motion. Feeling no need to rush, he pulls back from your lips to watch the way he slides in and out of you.

“I… I would beg you to go faster if my ribs didn’t feel like they were on fire.” You hum, your hands brushing over the perimeters of his face. His face scrunches a little and he almost slows to a stop, but you shake your head, “Don’t- don’t stop, please, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” He whispers shakily, one of his hands sliding down to press circles into your overly sensitive clit.

A whine falls from your lips at the feeling, “Yes, yes… I’ve never felt so good…” Your muscles flutter around him, the added sensation pulling your thoughts from the deep ache ringing from your torso. His lips meet yours again, one of his palms cupping the back of your hand. Pressing your hand firmly into his cheek, his mouth moves against yours in slow, loving motions. The amount of tongue he used was a pleasant surprise, his kisses never seeming to still. 

Keeping up his languid pace, Spencer memorizes the way you feel- which isn’t hard with his memory, but he files away every moan, every flutter of your core, every lingering kiss. It was all so perfect. 

The remnants of your first orgasm buzzes in your core, your entire body felt like it was on fire. You could feel yourself reaching the edge, your kisses getting sloppier and his name falling from your lips in quick succession. His hips roll deep into you, making up for the slow pace with the thumb rubbing evenly over your clit. 

His shoulders tense, the kiss between you breaking into just a sequence of heavy breaths against your lips. Hips twitching, the feeling of you around him almost unbearable as the pleasure causes his head to swim. All of the facts and knowledge constantly swimming through his mind fall silent, replaced with your soft whines and the feeling of your soft skin under his palms. 

“Spencer… god, please- come for me…” You murmur against his lips, your hands moving into his hair and sliding down the back of his neck. Your nails lightly scrape along his sensitive skin, coaxing him over the edge. It’s all he can do to keep his slow pace, lifting his face away from yours to look down at you. Your eyes are slightly glassed over, looking up at him with a pleading gaze. The eye-contact is the final push he needed, his fingers circling around your clit quickly. 

You gasp at the change in pace- the feeling of him inside of you, the length of him brushing against your sweet spot, his sweet gaze on your face all cause your muscles to contract as your second orgasm crashes over you. Spencer follows quickly behind you, groaning loudly as his hips stutter and he pushes himself into you as deep as he can. His release coats your insides, the added sensation pushing you even farther. Mouth falling open, his moans spike to a slightly higher pitch as he slowly rides out his own orgasm. 

Heavy gasps fall from your lips as the two of you come down from your high. Spencer’s lips press against yours sloppily, his hands reaching up to hold your face firmly. He pulls out of you slowly, listening to the soft whine that falls from your lips.

Overly sensitive from the two back to back orgasms, your head swims. Spencer attempts to pull away from you more, but your hands loosely capture his wrists and pull him back. Lips meeting again in a lazy fashion, your mind is in a daze, “I love you…” is softly mumbled into his mouth, your hands holding his to your face. 

“I love you too… How do your ribs feel?” He asks, kissing up the bridge of your nose.

You sigh into his affection, your thumbs rubbing the outside of his hands, “I feel great… it’s like a forgotten bruise.” Your lips pull into a sloppy grin.

“That’s because pain can be reduced by orgasms,” Is his response, pulling a soft laugh from you, “Potent analgesics, which are basically pain killers, are released in the endorphins during sex.”

“Maybe we should do this until my ribs are healed,” You hum, pressing a few soft kisses to his cheek.

Spencer laughs a little, shaking his head, “Let me get you cleaned up.”

He attempts to pull away again but you keep his hands held in your grip. You were still exhausted, your hold loose. Spencer could easily wriggle away, but he humors you with a few more kisses.

“Stay… I want you to stay.” You whine, tilting your head and kissing the corners of his mouth. “Please?” 

Spencer nods, moving to settle next to you. Being mindful of your injury, he wraps an arm around your shoulders. Scooting closer and  pressing his chest against your arm, he kisses your temple sweetly. The gravity of your connection holds your cores together in the wake of your collision.

[lo-fag]

good GOD I am so angry.

I, as my bio suggests, am a minor. I am also asexual. And feeling quite dysphoric about all the adults in my life telling me ‘I wouldn’t know until I’ve tried it.’ But that’s a different topic.

I needed a little boost for myself so I looked at the asexual tag here on tumblr, so I’d feel less alone.

There are always thirst traps and other things of that kind on any popular tag. But I saw so many, on the asexual tag, that I actually cried, ripping my skin off as I did so.

There will always be people that abuse the tag system, I know. Tagging your posts with trending tags to make them more likely to show up on people’s dashes is a corporate tactic. But to see so many of these ads, I can barely call them posts, on the asexual tag, made me physically ill.

Asexuality is often overlooked by not just cishets but the LGBTQ+ community so often. To see that a safe space for positivity for such a overlooked community was being vandalised for the sake of marketing makes me so angry and so upset for myself and all the other people who fit under the umbrella of asexuality or aromantic who just want to feel like they belong.

I’m a relatively new blog, but I know how tumblr works. I know how the world works. The way the world is run means that we are all victims, and I thought that maybe society, that damned, twisted thing, could let us have a little corner to protect ourselves.

All it does is hurt. it hurts, and it hurts, and it hurts. Companies aren’t going to get new customers by ripping apart supposed safe spaces, and young asexual kids like myself aren’t going to get any validation or even feeling of home from seeing thirst traps targeted toward our community.

our community that is SPECIFICALLY DEFINED BY FEELING DIFFERENT OR NO SEXUAL ATTRACTION TO WHAT IS DEEMED ‘NORMAL’.

it’s targeted. I can tell. And I am by no means an expert, but this tag abuse is hurting everyone. And no one is doing a thing about it.

please boost this. Reblog, like, whatever. This is damaging people far more than you think, and it needs to be resolved.

thanks for hearing me

[fics-n-stuff]

Today on my dash I have been seeing alot of posts about Spider being demisexual, which yes I agree, but I just saw some comments about a little overlap in storylines between him and Ca$h and OH MY GOD I NEED IT!!

Picture the scene: season 3 Spider on a journey of self improvement and self discovery, offhandedly hears something about the asexuality spectrum and actually takes in that information for the first time and what that might mean for him. All this time he's been feeling "betrayed by [his] dick" (the note he buried in the feelings pit) but now he realises that maybe he just doesn't understand. So he goes to the only acespec person he knows: Ca$h.

Imagine the two of them engaging in this deep, probably quite awkward, conversation about sexual attraction vs romantic attraction, libido/sex drive, the social stigma of being acespec and internalised acephobia. I mean, this could be a mutually beneficial exchange too because Ca$h, despite being accepting of his own sexuality, is going through a really rough time reckoning with what that really means for him in terms of a relationship - specifically with Darren - and he has a lot to unpack and work through there and being able to talk it through with someone could really help. They might even finally say the word asexual.

I just feel like there's so much potential here. I have faith in the HBH writers that the demisexual coding of Spider was intentional (and even if it wasn't at first that they will hopefully seize the opportunity to make it intentional) and I think there are so many cool ways this could go in terms of character development.

[honeydewdelight]

LGBTQ+ HEADCANONS

Main six and more let's gooooo

Twilight Sparkle

Asexual

Although homophobia and transphobia is rare in Equestria, asexuality it also not often talked about

Twilight struggles with romance in her late teen and early adult years.

She felt like there was something wrong with her, but couldn't pinpoint what it was. The idea of relationships was so strange to her, but romance seemed to appealing. She didn't get it.

One day she went to talk to Shining Armour about it

Shining is a beegg!! Ally!! But knew this was outside of his area of expertise, so asked Cadence about it

Cadence went to Twilight and they talked about it for hours. She explained it all to Twi and made her feel so loved, normal, and beautiful.

After that, the pressure of relationships went away, and she wouldn't focus on it for another few years. Putting her studdies first, and later putting her friendships first.

Rainbow Dash

A big gay is what she is

Lesbian

Uses She/He/They

Gender? I hardly know her

Gender? Take her out to dinner first

Okay I'll stop

Applejack

Another big gay

Experimented with gender but just prefers she/her

Not really confortable with labels

Pinkie Pie

Pan

She's literally pan colours what else did you expect

Uses she/they

Fluttershy

Trans

Wears tail extensions (canon)

When she was a filly, she couldn't figure out why she felt so bad about herself all the time

Rainbow Dash helped her big time, gently pushing her to explore her gender

Transitioning in Equestria is pretty easy, blablabla something with magic n stuff

Rarity

Your honour, she is bi

CANON and you can't tell me otherwise, she WILL flirt with anyone

Bit of a disaster bi

Demisexual and very confident about it

Hopeless romantic

Loves to dable in romance but ultimately loves being independent above anything else

Never really stays in long term relationships

Often the one to break up

But she does it with such grace and elegance?? Most of her ex-partners stay friends with her. People dont know how she does it

Bonbon and Lyra

Your honour, they are married

Lyra is lesbian

Bonbon is bi

Discord

Gender? I hardly kn-

Uses he/him because that's what people use and he rolls with hit but his species literally doesn't have a concept of gender

Fluttershysexual and Fluttershysexual ONLY

Cadence

Big pansexual

Anytime any media has any sort of princes of god/goddess of love I just can't see anything other than pansexual

You're telling me a PRINCESS of LOVE would only feel that love for 1 gender?

She is very confident in her identity, even though she never necessary got to experiment and explore with it since shining armour was her first big crush, and they have been together ever since

Is extremely educated about LGBTQ+ Identities and matters

Maybe I'll talk about some more later on^^

[suzukiblu]

I just wanted to say I think you're really cool in the way you defend your own boundaries while also trying to see the best in people (e.g. off-topic Wednesday asks / etc.). Like you make your ask box feel like it's okay to ask questions or not worry too much about how something might come off wierdly if it's read a certain way but also you don't let people walk over you, and that balance is a fucking skill which takes effort and work.

Thank you. 🧡 I definitely do go to a lot of effort to be clear about certain things I'm cool/not cool with while also assuming the best of people's intentions if I ever get comments or questions that are phrased poorly or seem . . . well, questionable, to make an unintentional pun there, haha. I just don't wanna start shit that doesn't need started or slather bad vibes all over some poor well-intentioned random soul who just doesn't have the most immediately up-to-date/informed language or certain experiences to inform their perspective, AND all over all of your dashes on top of that. Like, we were all confused about shit and awkwardly attempting to figure out what the magic question that would explain that shit to us was at SOME point in our lives, if nothing else. You gotta remember your internal stupid kid and how bad they wanted to figure shit out without having the tools for it!! You just gotta!!!!

Like, I literally did not realize gay and bi people were a thing until I was FOURTEEN, man, I just did NOT have that context/experience as a kid. And then, like, four months later I was . . . uhhhhh I'm pretty sure literally the first kid who was publicly out in my entire very tiny "quaint lil' small town full of well-off retirees with gorgeous lawns and literally nothing for a teenager to do outside of school" high school, and at least as far as I ever knew there wasn't another one until my friggin' senior year. And I didn't figure out what asexuality was OR my gender identity until I was in my thirties, despite actively TRYING to figure those out! I just didn't know! I didn't have the word for it for so long I didn't even GET it was a thing that should have a word!

Though to be honest, I really do get way, WAY more people worrying that they're overstepping and preemptively apologizing about it than I ever do people who are actually doing anything I'd personally consider to be overstepping, and I get even fewer people who are INTENTIONALLY overstepping on top of that. Like, I've been very lucky in the audience I've managed to snare/cultivate in my internet times, I very rarely encounter anyone coming into my inbox in bad faith. "Don't like/don't read" seems to be generally respected and I appreciate it, basically, hah.

Also, like, not to get too extra or serious here, but a lot of the reason I write fanfic is because it can contain a lot of things that standard publishing is less immediately open to releasing--like, especially back when I started, it was just NOT a thing to have explicitly queer kids in mega-popular mainstream YA series or all that much gender/racial/neuro diversity past, like, token presences that were at MOST only diversity-CODED half the time anyway and "didn't like labels". And like, that bugged me a LOT as a kid and as a young adult, and still kinda bugs me sometimes these days. I wanted, you know, that SEEN feeling, and I didn't want to only get it from hyper-niche genres/authors that were only writing about being queer and sad about it. I wanted that shit in my dang sci-fi and fantasy and all the FUN stuff, not just, you know, the tragedy-porn cautionary tales. So I want people who are reading my stuff to feel that way, even and ESPECIALLY when they're some totally different flavor of whatever we are from me, and so I REALLY try to be inclusive and welcoming and assume the best of people, at least to the best of my ability.

. . . okay I got kinda carried away with this answer, maybe, haha, but tl;dr: literally everyone has got enough bullshit going on in their lives, I can at least be nice about weird kinks and random gender/mental/physical/???? issues that I don't always necessarily understand the full nuances of on the internet.

[dvilsdesire]

// Hey, just a casual reminder that there are real human beings behind the blogs you interact with, and that you should still be kind to each other even if you don't like a specific character someone writes, or disagree with a potential headcanon, or maybe you're just overwhelmed at the current time and have your own stuff going on.

Please remember that even though Haarlep is a fiend, that he is a legitimate incubus and that means that his entire persons can revolve around sex, that the mod is still a person and isn't here for just smut.

I happen to be a big ole asexual that loves to interact with my partners OOC, plot with them, have a good laugh with them and generally be treated with respect as I would respect others.

This is your daily reminder to please be kind to yourself, but to others as well, as you don't know what might be happening behind the chaotic dash at times. We are all human beings, we are all people with real emotions and we all deserve to be treated as such <3

Love you all, and don't be afraid to reach out to your partners every now and again if you're feeling unsure of something. A little communication can go a long way, but be mindful that we are all adults and also have lives out of the RP community.

Stay safe <3

[henrysfox]

aren't you asexual? Doesn't it bother you the way people sexualize every little thing the boys do? I can't get in my dash without someone saying how hot they are or what they wanna do to them. It's frankly disgusting

i am somewhere on the ace spectrum yes, but no, it does not bother me at all.

most people experience sexual thoughts. they always have, always will. maybe we talk about them out loud more these days than in the past but it's not that different tbh? it's not just about nick and taylor, it's like that in every fandom. it's not like they're sending nick and tay messages talking about everything they wanna do to them.

also there is an entire 'reading thirst tweets' side of youtube. people are embracing horniness - even big celebs take part in those interviews.

it's okay to be uncomfortable with sexual things and sexual thoughts, especially if you're ace, and allonormativity is a thing, but i don't think it's right telling other people what they can feel and express on their private tumblr blogs and policing their thoughts. besides, sexuality is not something to be ashamed of, as long as you're not hurting anyone.

if it really bothers you that much, maybe you should unfollow said blogs or block some tags

[stan-rabelais-et-diderot]

#AroAceJugheadOrBust

I am glad the Riverdale show is over. To the people gushing about how the show was nonsensical, special & amazing, I would like to remind (or tell) that Jughead is canonically asexual aromantic.

There was initial enthousiasm in the aroace community at the annoncement of this show in 2016 & early 2017, especially because the actor Cole Sprouse was initially x supportive of an asexual Jughead, had read the comics & claimed to have respect for the decades-long original material indicating that Jughead was aroace (even before it was official confirmed in 2016 in the Chip Zdarsky comics). After those initial statements of support, Cole Sprouse never mentioned it again, as far as I know (& I looked) after 2017.

In 2017, there was a months-long campaign, with the hashtag #AroAceJugheadOrBust. We kept up hope, especially because at the time, it would have been the biggest piece of aroace representation ever seen on television, in a mainstream show no less. And we weren't hoping for something out of reach, they were adapting a comic where the best friend of the lead was consistently depicted as aroace, for decades. And we were told we would get a fair portrayal of the character.

Time passes, the show aired, Jughead initiated a kiss with Betty & Jughead got a girlfriend. At some point someeone involved in the show straight up said (I would cite the source but I don't remember well & I didn't bookmark it at the time, sorry) that the reason they gave the character a love interest was that otherwise it didn't make for a compelling or interesting story (I don't remember precisely, sorry).

I stewed in that a long time, thinking about how I'm one of the most interesting person I know, being aroace isn't boring, if they can't have a character being interesting without giving them a romance plot, that's them being terrible at their job...

When all our hopes were dashed, other people, many queer people started to show up & then like that show. Rooting for it. I saw praise for queer representation for bi or gay characters, but I didn't see any mention of the straight-washing of one of the main characters & how maybe some solidarity was warranted (how any potential good gay or bi rep in a minor character wouldn't make up for the straight washing of a main character).

As an aroace person, I wanted the show to fail, for the widespread outrage of the queer community condamning straight-washing to underwhelm any positive review.

That didn't happened this time. I hope the next time people try to erase aromantic or asexual identities of fictional characters in popular media, things are different & we do get that solidarity & support. I hope things get better.

[splashstar01]

Love letter to Merthur (11 year anniversary🎉💐) TW: suicide, spoilers for end of the show

Okay so it's been 11 years since Merthur has been my OTP. Since they've entered my life I've literally felt like I've been in a relationship with their relationship if that makes sense. For a little while until I met my spouse, I even identified as aegosexual, which for me meant being asexual except for attraction to other people's relationships such as my OTPs. 

I came into the fandom end of 2013 and became interested because they were all over my tumblr dash. I know, the show ended at the end of 2012.. I'm not sure why Tumblr had a sudden influx of merthur content. Maybe due to the slash tourney?

But I kept seeing the final end scene all over my dash and I kept seeing a ton of articles celebrating that merthur was now canon (imagine my surprise when i found so many in the fandom don't see it that way even tho it was literally confirmed……………………..). 

I knew literally nothing about the show and assumed it was a serious adult show about the Arthurian legends. But I shipped them anyway due to the ending, particularly with Merlin waiting 1500 years (I didn't even realize Arthur was also waiting)!

At the time I had just got into shipping for half a year, so I was super new to all this slash stuff. My slash OTP at the time was very quickly replaced by merthur after I began watching the series bc merthur was just way more touchy-feely and had actual boyish fun around one another, not to mention waiting 1500 years for ea other! That is EPIC LOVE!!!! Their dynamic was the opposite of my previous OTP. 

With merthur I got really, really into my feelings. I've literally bled for them. Rest assured, I have never cut in my entire life. it's only due to me becoming so emotional and hyperventilating in joy that I bit my fingers and bled a little bit. Like, the amount of blood i lost was akin to literally a paper cut from my teeth lol. Because I cover my mouth when I hyperventilate… I think most people cover their mouths when they do this. Lol.

But when I hyperventilate over Merthur, it is EXTREME. like, i have almost out-of-body experiences. i’ve literally cried from being so happy thinking of them having sex. One time in the shower I was thinking about them and I was so happy I nearly blacked out and fell into the shower curtains. 😂 But even when I cry over Merthur/Arthur, im still having fun. Because I know it's not real, so it’s only a pseudo-grief but its NOT psuedo-joy!!! LOL. It's kinda like going on a roller coaster. You’re screaming but you dont actually fear for your life. It’s psuedo-fear. 

At the time, I was severely depressed in my non-fandom life, but Merthur never actually contributed to that hurt, because i could see the lines of reality vs real shit i had to be upset over. Merthur gave me an outlet. With merthur I felt free to cry and fall apart whilst at the same time, as I always tell my ppl, "they're not real, THANK GOODNESS!!" so I can grieve bc I'm not really crying for anyone!

At the time, I wasn’t seeing anyone for my severe depression/anxiety because I thought I could handle it and i was self-medicating with psychedelics since they've been proven to be able to heal mental health issues. LSD at parties healed my c-ptsd, since I had gone to see someone for my ADHD & ended up being diagnosed w c-ptsd! I thought it could heal my other issues too.

But then I took a 7-year break from merthur due to my attempted suicide.

My life was going so well too. I literally seemed like i had the perfect life while in college. Just landed a good-paying 1-yr temp job, I was majorly popular and partying every weekend, I had a long-term partner (we’re now married), I had a 4.7 GPA, was in 9 different school clubs. I seemed to be thriving. But I’d been battling severe anxiety/depression since I was 12.

How the fandom saved my life….. Literally. 

Before I was going to do it, I had to say goodbye to the fandom bc I always felt like the merthur fandom was like my family.

I wrote a goodbye post on Tumblr that I set to queue and I had assumed it would post much later. But ig i somehow miscalculated and it posted too early. So someone managed to find my Facebook which is just insane bc blogs are essentially anonymous. I didn't post any personal info on Tumblr. It should have been impossible but they alerted my sister and I was found 45 min away.

The doctors declared me brain dead and it was this huge thing. I had to relearn to feed myself, walk, etc. It took me 6 months just to have the strength to use a walker because my leg muscles had atrophied so much. 9 months later and I was able to walk again on my own. Now it's been 7 years and I'm still physically disabled but in a much better place emotionally. After my attempt, a limelight was cast on my mental health and all a sudden i was seeing all sorts of therapists. I was medicated for the very first time, and i felt so much better. I’m no longer actively suicidal.

So….. enough about my sob story. 

Merthur will most likely always be my OTP!! I did find book!Drarry 8 months ago, and boy did i go wild for them too. (Like, i stayed up 36 hours straight because i couldnt stop thinking about them and i’m the author of the Drarry Bible, a 98k doc of all the drarry book moments along with meta proving that in their universe, they are in love and soulmates lol. Drarry is such a huge ship that I was honestly so surprised that there wasnt already something similar to it!!)

But even with Drarry, I always knew Merthur was OTP!! I never once questioned that I loved Merthur more even during my Merthur hiatus. ^-^ I’m not sure why i took such a long hiatus after my suicide attempt. But I recently got back into Merthur just 6 months ago due to this video by imaginedragonlords: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d4zDknYGf0s. The video reminded me of why Merthur was so amazingggggg. Like i always knew they were but ig the passion was gone after the suicide attempt. (Gone but not forgotten lol! :D)

I wont promise the passion will always be here. Like in any relationship, passion sometimes ebbs and flows (happening rn w my irl partner lol i mean, they’re great n all but they like to interrupt me when i write fanfic 😂), but I’ll always know that Merthur will never be replaced. Because at the end of the day, there will never be another love as epic and with as much chemistry as these two gayssssssss<33333 i did find another ship I love that i feel has a more healthy love for ea other than merthur and also waited a whole lifetime for one another, but they dont have AS much chemistry……………)

I love Merthur SO DAMN MUCH!!!!!! And i love my Merthur fandom. <3 I can always rely on fandom to give me my drug of choice: that MERTHUR DOPAMINE HIT!!! I’ve grieved Arthur’s death way longer & more intensely than any irl person/pet’s, & I blame the fandom for that! Each gifset or post will bring all the feelings of pseudo-grief back in full force, plus I cry EASY when it comes to fandom. I can smile a genuine smile after my grieving session is done, because thank SOURCE THEY’RE FICTIONAL! 

And anyway, they’re so obviously going to end up married with so much sex once Arthur finally returns from training with the Sidhe and being granted immortality so that Albion (Merlin) won’t ever be in such crisis (losing his mind from grief) ever again.

I’ve also cried from looking at a gifset of Leon just being Leon (this one literally tagged ‘literally crying’ & i only use that tag for stuff that has me actually crying with real tears).

And he’s not even one of my fave knights!! This gifset wasn't meant to be sad either. lol. I dont know why i cried. It just be like that on Tumblr.

Back before my hiatus, I literally had a Kleeenix box next to me whenever i went on tumblr bc I’d cry over every little thing. This was bc i was bound to see some sad merthur gifset/post/etc, cry, and after i cried once, anything else made me cry……..

Even gifsets of Leon just being Leon lool. x’D I would get soooooo overly emotional. 

My spouse once said, “All you ever talk about with ur fandoms is ‘they’re so gay.’” YES. THAT IS THE MAIN POINT, WHAT ABOUT IT 😂 like im now in the Harry Potter book fandom & i literally dont give a shit about the book plotlines [I barely remember them], but i can write up a whole Bible about Drarry……. It’s PRIORITIES! I have a very 1-track mind with my ships lol.

Ok this was way longer than intended. 

Tldr;

merthur (fandom) literally saved my life during my suicide attempt by alerting my family,

grieving Arthur’s death is a safe outlet bc i know he’s not real so none of my grief is real.

I dont cut, never have, never will—I just hyperventilate way too hard in fits of joy, usually crying “they’re SO GAY!!!” & bite my fingers a tad too hard on accident at times..... i get really super emotional and i love it becos that free dopamine hit is on another lvl fr lol def up there w real drugs, like my out-of-body experience sometimes xD

I feel like im dating them due to being partly aegosexual. and i love them <3 :D So my 11 yr anniversary fr feels like my 11 yr anniversary w an IRL lover lol XD

[im-not-a-l0ser]

I’ve seen a couple posts of yours pop up on my dash, and (absolutely no hate here) I’m getting the impression that you don’t really like Grace? Now, I am incredibly new to the Hatchetfield community (as in, I watched early Starkid, fell out of it because Darren Criss left, and am just now returning), so I’m not sure what all has happened in all multiverses.

With characters like Grace, maybe I tend to project a little bit of my old high school self onto them, because I used to exude an air of moral superiority since I was vocally and unapologetically Protestant in a classical Catholic school. I find ultra-religious characters interesting to play around with, especially in predominantly queer spaces like Starkid, since I was that ultra-religious kid (who is now vocally and unapologetically queer).

So, I guess what I mean to ask is: What is your opinion of Grace, and why? You seem to know a lot about this universe, so I’m hoping to grasp at the general attitude of this fandom towards women before I jump back in.

Oh, so you're... you're going to make it about gender then.

I actually had a whole thing typed up about why I don't like Grace and people's perception of her, but I suppose I'll just post it separately. Maybe I'll link back to this idk. Good base for a post I was already planning on making.

So here's the thing. I don't hate Grace because she's a woman, I hate Grace because she's a fucking psychotic bigot who people need to stop perceiving as something she's not.

I've gone on a whole rant already specifically about this. But there are spoilers in it, so if you haven't seen NPMD bc you're waiting to get a grasp on the vibe of the fandom, you shouldn't read it. Or you should at least watch NPMD first.

So, just a rundown. I hate Grace because she is hyper-religious and I have religious trauma. I hate that people don't see her religion as a core part of her identity, making her fundamentally for and against some things, but still joke about her being christian.

And, before someone get's at me about how I still like Mark. I really didn't, but Curt Mega posted this, which made him a much more complex character in my eyes. I'm sure he was joking, but Mark being gay and having a double life that causes him guilt in both directions is forever embedded in my head.

And sure, Grace is a complex character, she really is. But parts of the problem are 1, people don't pay much attention to her actual complexities, and 2, she's seriously psychotic. And that's not me being like 'women be crazy,' that's me watching the show and thinking... 'oh my god, she's fucking insane' at the end of act one, and at the end of Virginity Camp.

But Grace is really the only girl character in Hatchetfield that I dislike, especially so passionately. I like Emma and Steph and Becky, although Linda I'm not really a fan of actually. But y'know, another "she's a fundamentally bad person" thing there. I even like Ruth, who I initially didn't (I'm asexual and her whole thing made me really uncomfy watching it). Jeri's a weird case, but mainly because both her and Jerry are fucking stupid. Like... just get married! Just get married, you two have liked each other for over a decade, just get married!

So, if you want my attitude on women, there it is. I like good characters and I dislike bad characters. I dislike characters who are against things that I stand for, like being queer, and... idk, not starting cults.

[fuckyeahasexual]

Hey, I just wanted to say that I don't think that the poll about whether asexuals are part of the lgbtq community should be circulated. It made me feel pretty uncomfortable seeing it on my dash and I don't think it should be given any attention because it's not cool that people keep making polls about us like that. I get maybe wanting to make sure we get the right result but I don't think it's worth it

I understand why people dislike polls that ask 'are ___ valid' questions, but I also understand that many people who make these polls don't circulate them out of any malice, just another little bit of content to reach out to the community.

There's lots of content that this tumblr won't ever intend to promote, but we also want to minimize the exclusion we'd practice. Different opinions, different approaches, different experiences, they all matter and aren't Bad.

-Fae

[penwrythe]

Well, this is interesting...

So uh, I just realized while working on revisions for my Life Cycle of a Object Mimic document that my object ocs in WOR have strange family structure dynamics due to them being asexual reproducers lol.

Here's an image is from Jeff Searle's blog post "What is Sex?" Just showing this to show a quick example of what I mean by my Object ocs being asexual reproducers.

Here's a quick sketch of me trying to figure out the family tree. Solid line is relation through the Progenitor/Ichor and dash lines is only social relation (partners). Broken dash lines represent no social relation.

Note about the sketch below: if the text is not clear, Progenitor #1 has no siblings, dies and yields at least three withered kernels, all of which are their offspring. These grow into curios, then later adult Objects. One of the siblings had a Partner, then dies becoming Progenitor #2. That Partner is now the Guardian of the curio Progenitor #2 yielded. This Guardian only have a social relation with the curio through Progenitor #2 (Guardian is the living parent while the progenitor is the deceased parent). This curio grows up into an Adult Object, then dies with no partner of any kind nor altrices to care for their curios (possibly had no access to an abbey). They yield four withered kernels, that grow into curios, that then grow into Adults. One of these adults die, becoming Progenitor #5, once again had no partner, but an altrix from an abbey steps in to care for Progenitor #5's curio. This altrix (and all altrices) are only caregivers and have no social relation with the curio. Curio grows up into an adult, then dies as Progenitor #6, yielding a single kernel, that grows up, and is now currently an Adult. This adult, and any adults/curios still alive in this graft (not counting guardians or altrices), make up the family lineage of Progenitor #1.

In short, all my Object ocs (Mimickind) in my worldbuilding only share relations through their progenitor, then their progenitor's progenitor, and so on. Any members still living are all siblings of the Progenitor or the offspring of the Progenitor.

When Objects die a true death, they leave behind a withered kernel, and once cracked open, exposes a germ to be used for growing a new curio. The only "parent" is the guardian - buuuuut thanks to a few lore changes - guardians are not just the Object who is pair-bonded with the curio's progenitor (that is just common for most objectkind).

Let me explain.

In the case of a curio's progenitor's partner is dead (both "parents"), the next one to be a guardian (depending if they accept this task btw) is either siblings of the progenitor, another Object who steps in to take care (say an adoptive Object from the original guardian family or the altrix of an abbey).

Since direct relations are perceived only through the progenitor and not through the Guardian (due to guardians being any kind of object who steps in to care for a curio), all family matters are controlled by siblings and (maybe) cousins? There's no parent (mother/fathers) or grandparents?

I'm not sure?? How this works??

There's also, like relationship stuff to figure out, too.

Okay, so right now in my worldbuilding, Pair-Bonds are

romantic or platonic pairings of one or more Objects. All Objects are instinctively asexual and have no instinct to find suitable mates with strong genes to ensure the health and fitness of their offspring. Instead, they are driven to protect their partner until they die, where upon death, the deceased’s curio(s) will have a greater chance to surviving to adulthood with the help of the deceased’s living partner.

Guardians in my worldbuilding are:

an Object who is usually become their curio’s benefactor after that curio’s progenitor died. They usually act as parental figures of their curios, aiding in the curio’s education and growth while they grow up in an abbey. In the case of no surviving partner, the progenitor’s or the guardian’s family may step in to aid the curio. The Guardian’s family may participate in helping the guardian care for the curio(s), but are not considered related to the progenitor’s family though the progenitor’s curio and are not related through pair-bonds. If either family rejects the curio, the curio will have an altrix or adoptive Object to act as guardian.

So, family is relation through the Progenitor (and their lineage through past Progenitors). Guardians (either pair-bonds, other Objects, or altrices) are not considered part of the Progenitor's family (and lineage). The Progenitor's family is made up of their siblings (if alive) or cousins (if also alive) of the curio (cousins being the offspring of the Progenitor's siblings, who would have died to yield a kernel). All family matters are controlled by the Progenitor's family while the Guardian(s) (and their family) have no say as they are not seen as relatives to the Progenitor. The Guardian's family (their siblings and cousins) are not a part the Progenitor's family because of this.

The only role of the Guardian(s) is to ensure the Progenitor's curio is kept safe (either rearing them or having an abbey rear them).

~Skipping ahead a bit on a thought~

So lets say you have an Object who had just started their lineage by their existence (cough a human dies then gets inverted cough), then dies (becomes a Progenitor) and yields a kernel. That kernel is cracked, germ comes out then grows into a curio. Let's say that Progenitor had a partner. That Partner now cares for their curio as a Guardian. But since the Progenitor has no siblings or cousins, that Guardian now becomes the adoptive family of that curio. The Guardian's family also steps in to care for the curio, but still retain their independence from that curio and the curio's future lineage.

So the curio grows up into an adult but their Guardian grows old, dies, then has a kernel. They had no partner in their life. So would this mean that the adult Object that the Guardian once took care of now cares for the curio of the Guardian? What does this mean for the adult Object to the curio? Is the curio a "sibling" or "child" of the adult Object in this scenario?

I rather the adult Object in this scenario see the curio as a "sibling" because uuuuuuh "child" implies something real bad and not great (yeah ew no). So maybe the adult Object is a Sibling Guardian or a Grand-Sibling of their Guardian's curio?

I'll think upon this a bit more lol.

[void-tiger]

Saw on my dash how “x is allowed to exist, but y is not.”

And. Hoo boy. No. No “x” is NOT allowed to exist. If I say I’m asexual, I’m expected to also be 0% Romantic Aromantic Asexual. If I describe what I would want in a romantic relationship, I’m told it’s “just” a friendship. If I describe my demiromanticism, that’s just a “good head on my shoulders” or has people suspicious I’m only friends with them to date them—neither is true. I can and will sit with romantic feelings that ONLY develop when someone is SAFE platonically indefinitely. But also demiromanticism is not “Aromantic Enough” and therefore I’m not “Aroace Enough”. Asexuality and dating? Either you break your boundaries or the other person feels physically neglected or you can’t have exclusivity. Dating apps? Free ones do not include asexuals with the full features—it’s either a trial period or essentially a paying Allo has to approach YOU—with maybe the exception of Tinder. Paid service apps that include or are for asexuals are few and far between.

Remind me how romantic/grey&demi aromantic asexuals are so “accepted.” Because this isn’t even getting into the constant allonormative messaging. This is just the practicality of when an asexual falls in love, wants to date someone, or would like to try experiencing either.

[spaghettioverdose]

It's laughably hypocritical of you to say you hate the "do whatever you want forever cause you're uwu hecking valid" mindset, but then you're like, what, maybe two degrees of seperation from people like nyancrimew who think "bisexual lesbians" exist and that white asexual demi-queerplatonic theyfabs are legitimately oppressed. I agree with what you're saying but maybe you can practice what you preach by not being buddy buddy with self-obsessed westerners who think having a million micro identities is kweer liberation.

Anon who am I buddy-buddy with who thinks all this this? Yeah I probably have a couple mutuals who think bi-lesbians are real, that omni/poly/pansexuals are a useful meaningful terms that exist separate from bisexuality etc. but it's a little strange to phrase it like that.

Being mutuals with or following someone on tumblr doesn't mean I'm good friends with them or that I agree with all their takes. As a baseline it means I like some of the shit on their blog well enough and their annoying takes are within tolerable limits. I also don't screen everyone I follow for every posdible annoying take. As long as I am fairly certain someone doesn't have outright reprehensible opinions or isn't too annoying (by doing a couple quick searches on theor blog, I'm not going to comb through every post) I consider them good enough to follow.

If I only followed people who have purely good politics in all directions, I'd follow like 5 MLs and no one else. This is the annoying westerners website. This is the micro identities website. I have to follow some mildly annoying people so that my dash has posts on it.

I don't think I follow anyome who thinks that "white asexual demi-queerplatonic theyfabs are oppressed" or whatever.

Anyways, if you have any problems with people I follow, name some names next time. You're already on anon, no reason to be a pussy about it.