#but I have decided that since I’m asexual the best idea is to be in a throuple or something so they can have sex

[yikes077]

Sometimes I dream about being in a polyamorous relationship, but then I remember I can’t even get one bitch to like me. Where the hell would I find 2 of them??

#and then I’m sad #mostly because the people I like are fictional #this is a thought I have whenever I read Bakugou x Kirishima x Reader fics #I could never #bakugo x kirishima x reader #fictional characters #fictional men #polycule #polyamourous #polyamory #but I have decided that since I’m asexual the best idea is to be in a throuple or something so they can have sex #and I can have someone to talk about movies with #and we can all be happy #Jesus I need to talk to more people irl #the vees #hazbin hotel

[heartless-aro]

Heyo, i'm part of a queer organization irl. I'm trying to lead us to focus more on aromanticism, since even a lot of queer people know very little about it. I have two questions. Number One is about the term loveless, since I've seen it used (and explained) quite frequently but still don't understand it. I don't get it of it's an actual description of not wanting love of any kind or more of a hyperbole, a stance taken against the common practice of only talking about love in a romantic context. And also i wanted to know if you have any more general suggestions

Ok, so I’m actually gonna start with general suggestions since I know I’m going to ramble a lot about lovelessness when I get to that part (given how I am as a person).

Since aromanticism isn’t as well known as most other identities, it would probably be difficult to set up events or groups for aromantic people, so I’m going to assume that your main goal, at least to start with, is probably going to be providing information and resources, and I’m gonna do my best to give advice based on that.

So, first and foremost, I would recommend being very clear about the fact that you can be aromantic even if you are allosexual. Alloaros are a much more significant portion of the aromantic community than people tend to realize. I’ve been meaning to make a post about some research papers I’ve read that give a bit of insight into the exact statistics, but what’s important to know is that, based off what little research exists, it is likely although aromantic people are more likely to be asexual than alloromantic people, most aromantics are still allosexual, not asexual. There’s probably a lot of people who are aromantic and just don’t realize it, because unfortunately with the amount of alloaro erasure in our community, many allosexual people don’t realize that identifying as aromantic is even an option for them.

Also, this is a bit specific, but I would recommend that when providing resources on aromanticism, you also provide a bit of info on aro rings (i.e., what they are/how to wear one), since many aromantics have never met another aro irl and would likely benefit from having a way to find and connect with other aros.

AUREA’s website (aromanticism.org) has a lot of great resources too, so I would definitely suggest checking those out and maybe directing people to AUREA’s website for further information about aromanticism.

These are all somewhat simplistic suggestions since I’m not really an expert on organizing and I don’t know what sort of goals and resources you’re working with, but if you want to discuss further, feel free to dm/message me and I’ll help as best as I can (for real I have nothing better to do lol) ♠︎.

Lovelessness

Ok so now for your first question about whether the term “loveless” is literal or hyperbolic…the short answer is…yes. Yes it is. As for the long answer…

There are a number of reasons why someone might identify as loveless aromantic. For some people, their identity as loveless may be related to some intrinsic aspect of themselves while others may adopt the term for ideological reasons (i.e., as a political identity of sorts).

AUREA defines a loveless aromantic as “a person on the aromantic spectrum who feels disconnected from the concept of love, does not experience love, or rejects the idea of personally experiencing love” and clarifies that “loveless aros may experience other attractions, but do not equate these attractions to love.” This is a good start to understanding what loveless aromanticism is, but I’m going to try to discuss this in a bit more depth (at least, to the best of my ability).

At its core, lovelessness is simply the rejection of love as a descriptor for oneself and for one’s experiences — nothing more, nothing less. It only starts to become more complicated when you start delving into why someone might decide love is not a useful or applicable term for their experiences.

The most straightforward and obvious reason is that some people simply don’t feel anything that they can identify as love. This may be the case for people who lack the desire or ability to form close emotional bonds with others; this could be due to a personality disorder like szpd, aspd, npd, or ocpd, due to emotional detachment related to ptsd, due to negative symptoms of schizophrenia, and so on. Similarly, someone who struggles to identify their emotions may not know whether or not they feel love.

Some may also consider “love” to be inapplicable to themselves because love is often so loosely and inconsistently defined as to seem nonsensical or meaningless to them. After all, how can romance, friendship, family bonds, passion for hobbies, and general enjoyment of life all be categorized as forms of “love” when each one of these is a fundamentally different experience?

The word love can refer to a lot of things, but romantic love is, for better or for worse, central to its basic definition. So much of our society’s concept of love is characterized by traits associated with romantic love, with all other forms of love being treated as secondary at best. Although we can stretch the definition so the word love can be more broadly applied, that doesn’t change the fact that, unless we completely rethink how we conceptualize love (as many lovequeer aros do), love as a social construct is inextricably tied to romance.

People are quick to label virtually any positive human experience as love, and in doing so without actually deconstructing what love means, they implicitly draw a connection between romantic love and those other positive human experiences. Yet is my “love” of music really the same emotion as someone else’s love for their spouse? Or do we only call them both love because — with romantic love being seen as the pinnacle of human emotion — we have become convinced that the only way the enjoyment of music could be anywhere near as valuable an experience as romantic love is if the enjoyment of music is in and of itself a form of love? By calling labeling any and all sources of joy as forms of love without considering whether they actually meet the definition of the term, we risk elevating the pedestal upon which society places romantic love, to our own detriment.

So, part of why someone might identify as loveless is because, in rejecting the idea that our experiences should be labeled as love, we are seeking to challenge the notion that the value of our experiences lies in their similarities to romance. In doing so while continuing to assert that our experiences are equal in value to the experience of romantic love, we seek to combat the idea that romantic love is above all other things.

Furthermore, there are also many people who identify as loveless due to having had “love” weaponized against them in the past. When people say that love makes us human, some of them may mean love in that broad sense that includes platonic affection, familial bonds, care towards pets, passion for hobbies, and so on. But for most people, the first type of love that comes to mind is always going to be romantic love, and for many, love and romance are inherently synonymous.

Although attempts to expand the definition of love are valuable, many aromantics (like myself) are uncomfortable with labeling any of their feelings as love. Furthermore, many neurodivergent aros, autistic aros in particular, have the love they do experience delegitimized by others because they cannot express love in the way people expected them to. (This is something that K.A. Cook explains in much greater detail in hir essay where ze first coined the term loveless aromantic. I plan on posting a link to this essay in a separate post in a bit. I highly recommend reading over it if you have the time).

After a lifetime of being excluded from the category of “people who love,” many aromantics don’t want to be told that we’re allowed to “join the club” now. There are people who will never consider our experiences to be the same as “real love,” and those who do will often consider us only as an afterthought. When people reinforce the idea that “love makes us human” or that “love is the meaning of life,” they may be including things like platonic love in their definition of love, but at the end of the day, not everyone will interpret their statements that way, and so their statements will still contribute to the dehumanization of aromantic people. Thus, it is not enough to be placated by the notion that love can include us too; at best, this is an empty platitude, and at worst, it serves to silence us on the matter of our own dehumanization. We need to dismantle the notion that love is intrinsic to humanity and happiness. In rejecting inclusion into the category of “people who feel love,” loveless aros make it impossible to ignore how equating love with humanity and happiness dehumanizes us and devalues our lives.

Anyways, this is based pretty heavily on my own thoughts and experiences and it’s probably not super organized but I hope that it helps.

So uhh,

tldr; loveless can be a descriptor for someone who doesn’t want love in any form, or it can be used as a hyperbole to express a stance against equating love and romance, or some combination of the two.

#aro #aromantic #loveless aro #ask #i definitely rambled a lot bc i’m living that adhd life but i hope this is at least semi comprehensible #long post

[wolfwafflez]

Hazbin Hotel Just Because Funness: Second Favorite Character ALASTOR 

Favorite thing about them: He’s just…such an asshole. XD I love Alastor to death because he’s a super slick, sarcastic smartass (you like that alliteration?) He’s our very creepy and mischievous bad boy. Even if you’re not into bad boys, you’ll probably think he’s hot anyway cause he’s just that effortlessly good at it. You can’t help but love how he oozes sexuality without even caring about it at all. 

Least favorite thing about them: He doesn’t appear to have ANY weaknesses…at least not concrete ones. Watching him get his ass handed to him by Adam was great for disproving his supposed invincibility, but I want to know what SCARES Alastor. If he experiences insecurity, I would LOVE to see it. I want that perfect, composed facade to SHATTER.

Favorite line (s): “Why I haven’t been that entertained since the stock market crash of 1929! Hahahaha…so many orphans…"

“Well I’m starved, who wants some jambalaya?!”

“Why hello there, you wayward sinner! Do you like blood, violence and depravity of a sexual nature? Of course you do, that’s why you’re in Hell!!”

“Yes, I know it’s been a while since someone with style treated Hell to a broadcast. Sinners rejoice!”

“A reminder to all, not to mess with the Radio Demon!!”

“Alastor. Pleasure to be meeting you, quite a pleasure…I’m about to end your fucking life!”

Favorite friendship: He and Niffty are the cutest.

Best ship: Alastor is canonically asexual and aromantic, meaning he has absolutely zero interest in romance or sex of any kind with anyone. That being said, I DO like the idea of him and Vox…not officially, just for fun. XD I love their dynamic, and can definitely see some feelings of that nature on Vox’s side. In terms of actual shipping though, I respect his aroaceness. 

Worst ship: Charlie. Just…ew. No. Doesn’t work even a little bit.

Random headcanon: When Alastor was alive, he no doubt had soooo many women hitting on him/asking him out all the time (since he was handsome, funny, charismatic…the whole package.) I like to think there was at least one woman he decided to give a chance, either out of curiosity or feeling like he should out of obligation (or pressure from his mother), and it went VERY. BADLY. XD Like, I imagine her leaning in to kiss him after the date, or ACTUALLY kissing him, and he just has a full blown breakdown, runs off and never speaks to her again. 

Unpopular opinion: People who say Alastor actually loves/cares about Charlie or any of the hotel crew are…wrong. XD Alastor is evil as shit. He is an extremely manipulative, vindictive psychopath. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself. He’s at the hotel for his own agenda, not because he actually wants to help anyone. I mean, come on. The guy was a cannibalistic serial killer when alive. Full Hannibal Lecter. And is now an overlord of Hell. What do you expect?

Song I associate with them that’s not on the soundtrack: “Fan Behavior” by Isaac Dunbar.

Favorite picture of them: 

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor the radio demon #radiostatic

[slowtides]

On my birthday, I had lunch with my step mom (my mom’s wife) and talked to her about the possibility of coming out to my dad. I’ve been thinking about this for a long time because I’m trying to decide about PhD programs, and the idea of going to a program close to my dad is a commitment of at least four years with him over my shoulder.

At lunch, I tried to explain how I feel. How I’m not really interested in sex so much as I am interested in intimacy and tenderness; how I have yet to meet anyone who is more important to me than my solitude; how I’ve known I liked women more than men since high school but didn’t really let myself know until after university; but how the idea of sharing space with someone and touching them all the time is just very disarming at this point. Is there a word for that? The closest I’ve found is I rest in the plane that’s created when I’ve connected the dots between asexual, bisexual, and an intermittent desire for shared space. Is this plane even worth coming out of?

I told her how it felt to be hyper aware of being around my dad when anything other than heterosexuality came up in a movie or song or conversation. It’s this dread that follows every word, waiting for him to blow up and shout at me like he did when I was a child.

I asked what it was like coming out to her parents, how there was rejection and anger and loneliness. How her dad died before there was true acceptance (they had turned a good corner). She told me that my mom felt one of the best moments they had was when her dad had two cookies and he gave one to my moms to share and kept the other for him and his wife. My mom felt like he was making their relationships equivalent by sharing a cookie for them to split. Because the institution of marriage is about splitting cookies in half on the bus. I felt sick listening to this. Crumbs.

She asked what I was afraid of when telling my dad, and I started to cry before I could answer. But the things I’m afraid of are as follows. I’m afraid that my dad will blame my mom for me not being the perfect straight daughter. I’m afraid he will be ugly to my mom and say I wouldn’t be this way if I hadn’t been raised by her. I’m afraid that in his anger, he will say something unforgivable. I’m also afraid of losing my only living parent. My mom is dead and I know she loved me for me, and she would have loved anyone I brought home. And I don’t really have that anymore. I don’t know if my dad will love anyone I bring home. I don’t think he will. I’m afraid that I’ll get hit by the “I love you but I don’t agree with your life choices” talk because I don’t think I can carry that. I’m afraid of him yelling. I’m afraid of not having my dad anymore. I’m afraid of him not loving me enough, but realizing he’s the only parent I have left.

I’ve been working on sharing essays on my Audre Lorde side blog, and the essay I read yesterday was “The Transformation of Silence into Language and Action.” In that essay, she basically asks her audience to consider how we can learn to speak when we are afraid, because we already do everything else when we are afraid. And I’ve read this essay so many times but it still moves me to tears. I have to think about this some more.

[aroace-thoughts]

(They/She)

Hello hello! I don't know where to go since finding out about this label &..... Questioning. Hard..... I am on the asexual spectrum & in a polyam relationship. But ever since finding this label (AroAce) & going through others experiences & even a thing with like, 41 questions to ask yourself?? I.... Check off a lot of the AroAce stuff & feel so sad. :( I told my NP partner that I might be & we both cried cuz we're both scared of what this means/could mean. I'm still trying to figure it out. I am scared as I don't want to feel alone or grow old alone. My NP is the only person I have thought about marrying & I love the idea of romance & romantic gestures! Yet I also see it as stuff you can do with a friend. Like picnics, poems, songs, cuddling etc. I haven't really ever had a crush, but more a confused set of feelings of wanting to be closer but without the romance. Yet I grew up in and out of relationships because I wanted to be close, they had a crush on me and everyone around me said that I must have a crush on them because I'm so "flirty". I never know when people are flirting with me & I don't flirt. I joke or give genuine compliments. I just don't understand & don't want to hurt my two girlfriends. :( I care for them & love them, but I am not sure if it was ever romantically or just a "Hey you're supposed to marry your best friend & do stuff with em forever". Am I making sense? I am so sorry. I keep crying about this. I don't want to hurt anyone but I also don't want to be alone. I also think I love my NP like the way people say they love their spouses but I don't know because it's just a really strong feeling of wanting my best friend around me forever. She means everything to me & I love having her in my life. I wanna have my hand held, I wanna be kissed on my hands and face. I wanna be cuddled but I also wanna have my own bedroom, yet share a house with someone. If it doesn't happen I'll be fine. I.... I don't know how to explain it all. I wanna experience romance but how does one do that when all they ever felt was confusion, longing & a strong (platonic?) feeling for certain friends? I'm sorry for rambling. Thank you for listening. If you have any questions I'll answer them under the same name

- Confused Bambi

Hello, Bambi!

Firstly, wow that is a lot to deal with, it must be very difficult to go through. Please don’t apologise for feeling the way you’re feeling. I’m offering you lots of hugs if you need them and am happy to be a listening ear.

Often, even just writing all these thoughts and fears and emotions out can be a huge help in clearing your head. Taking deep breaths, going on a calm walk, giving your feelings the space they need, having a conversation and getting things off your chest is often the first step in figuring out what you need and what you may need to change to be happy, so you’re doing a great job already.

My main thing I want to say to you is being aroace doesn’t have to be a bad or sad thing. If you don’t want to be alone, you don’t have to be alone. If you want your own bedroom and also want your NP to be in your life and hold her hand and live with her, that’s something you can do. You and your partners are the only ones who can decide how you want your relationship to look like. (Whether romantic, or platonic, or queerplatonic, or anything else.) That can sound very scary, especially if you’re confused and unsure, but can also be a great thing and give you freedom!

You and your girlfriends clearly care a lot about each other, and from what it sounds like you have a lot of trust and communication in your relationship where you feel safe and comfortable talking to your NP about this. That’s really good and really beautiful, and not something to take for granted.

Many aro and ace people are in happy relationships that look exactly like they and their partner(s) want them to look like. There are as many relationship types in this world as there are people in relationships, all are unique to the people in them.

Also, I hope you know you don’t always need a word or a label if it’s causing you stress or fear. A lot of these words can seem very big and final and overwhelming… The word “romance” for example doesn’t have to have a big meaning if that doesn’t serve you. Take lots of time, and continue communicating and listening, and you’ll be fine.

There are no rules in life except for your happiness and wellbeing.

#ask #anon #bambi anon 🦌

[jaynaneeya]

After the Wedding

I realize that part of the charm of Brom and Matilda's relationship is that it's not very well defined, and that's great, but since Headless Spirit Week coincides with Ace Week, I had to write a little self-indulgent fic of the conversation I choose to believe they had between the last time we saw them in episode 6 and the beginning of episode 7. And if somehow you're seeing this and still haven't watched Headless: A Sleepy Hollow Story for free on YouTube, please do yourself a favor and get on that. This fic contains spoilers for the first six episodes, nine are out currently, and the finale will be posted on Halloween.

***

With Kat’s mom’s manuscript in hand, Brom and Matilda kept running until they were several blocks away from the Van Tassel estate. When they finally allowed themselves to stop, Brom laughed and let out a whoop.

“We did it! We found some emperor evidence! Ha!”

“Yeah… and we got married,” Matilda reminded him as they slowly headed toward her house.

Brom’s grin faltered. “Oh. Yeah. We did.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t hold you to it,” Matilda assured him. “I just know Judy likes sappy stuff like forbidden love and I figured she’d fall for that. I had no idea she was ordained. Makes me wonder what other secrets people in this town are hiding…”

“You know, I actually don’t hate the idea of being married to you.”

Matilda gaped at him. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah! I mean, you’re not afraid to call me out when I’m being a jerk, so I feel like you’re helping me become the best version of myself. I think a partnership between us would work really well. What do you think?”

Matilda had only ever really thought of Brom as a nuisance. His presence was just so overwhelming. But he really was doing his best to overthrow the toxic masculinity that had been his entire personality as a teenager, and she respected that. She discovered that she wouldn’t mind hanging out with him more. But marriage?! She’d never considered that kind of a relationship with anyone, least of all Brom Bones. Her favorite part of their wedding was when he didn’t kiss her. She assumed it was because he was repulsed by her specifically, not by romance in general as she was. Surely Brom would never be satisfied with the kind of relationship she wanted.

He was still waiting for her answer. She decided to rip the band-aid off. “You know I’m aromantic and asexual, right?”

Brom blinked. “Um, not exactly, but good for you! I’m happy you found labels you relate to, and I’m honored that you trust me enough to come out to me.”

“So…you don’t have a problem with that?”

“Of course not! Why would I?”

Was he really this dense? Or was he just trying to be woke? “I mean, you’re right, some aroaces are happily married, but married people usually… do things… that I personally wouldn’t necessarily be comfortable with.”

If she’d been looking at his face instead of the ground she would have seen the lightbulb in his brain turn on. “Oh, ew, no, I wasn’t thinking our marriage would be like that.”

Matilda knew she should be offended by his disgust, but she was too relieved. “So what did you envision when you said you wanted to stay married?”

“I don’t know, I figured we’d like… live in the same place and go grocery shopping for each other and hang out a lot and maybe like, hold hands or something once in a while, but no kissing or anything like that. I’m not really into that stuff either, I might be the same as you, I don’t really feel that kind of attraction either.”

She glared at him. That was too much. “Oh come on, Brom, you don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”

He actually looked hurt. “Ouch, Matty. That was me being super vulnerable with you. Why would you think I was lying?”

“Uh…Kat?”

He winced. After a long pause, he said, “Okay, you have to promise never to repeat what I’m about to tell you. Especially to Kat.”

“What?”

“Promise!”

“Okay, sure, I promise. What is it?”

“I… only pretended to like Kat because I thought I was supposed to.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, you know, Tassels and Brunts go way back, and in high school everyone else was getting crushes and dating and stuff, so it just made sense. And then she dumped me – which I absolutely deserved, for the record – but I never liked anyone else so I just… kept obsessing over her. To the point that I brought a YouTuber back to life to sabotage the guy I thought was taking her from me. Almost ten years after we broke up.” He chuckled humorlessly. “Pathetic, right?”

Matilda gasped. “Oh my god, you are aroace!”

“I mean… I don’t love labels, but…”

“Right, sorry, not trying to tell you how to identify…”

“No, it’s all good…”

They were talking over each other, not even sure what they were saying anymore, but neither had ever felt more understood.

They had arrived at Matilda’s house. “So. Want to live here, husband?” she asked.

“Yeah, we better, me and the Babes pretty much fill up my old place.”

“Are they going to be okay without you?”

“Oh yeah, they’ll be happy to be able to spread out more. And, I mean, they’re only like two blocks away if we need each other. Still I should probably let them know.” He pulled out his phone. There were five new messages from Ichabod. “Oh daaaang. Kat threw Ichabod out of her house for accusing her dad of murder.”

“Ooh, the plot thickens,” commented Matilda.

“Indeed it does, wifey.”

Normally Matilda wasn’t a huge fan of Brom’s nicknames, but “wifey” she didn’t mind, somehow. “So should we go help Ichabod?”

“Yeah, he says he’s heading for not a drugstore.”

“Perfect, you show him the manuscript and I’ll try a new head.”

“Good plan, wifey. Wow, we’re such a great team!”

Matilda didn’t know whether to cringe or to smile, so she compromised by holding up her hand, which he immediately and enthusiastically high-fived, and together the newlyweds set off to find and help brokenhearted Ichabod Crane.

#headless series #headless spirit week #shipwrecked comedy #fan fic #brotilda #platonic marriage #slightly worried something in the finale will contradict my aroace matilda and brom headcanon #but i'm sure it will be amazing enough that even if it does i won't mind

[smolgirlowo]

2022-2023

Hi, my name is Abigale Isley. I am a writer, a gay asexual trans woman, and a Muslim. As of writing this, it has been exactly one year since I published my first Ace Attorney fanfic. I was playing through the AA games while dealing with insomnia and unemployment, was having a bad time playing AAI-3, and decided to simply spend all night writing a fluff piece instead of playing the game.

I didn’t expect to finish it. Even now I still never really expect to finish a piece when I start writing it. But in that case, I wrote for seven or eight hours straight and somehow that produced ‘Proposal for Idiots’. At best, I edited for fifteen minutes, and I impulsively threw it up on Ao3, and then I moved on.

And then Proposal did well. Really, really well. At least by my standards. I don’t know how, nothing I’ve published before or after has had that same overwhelming response, but it was cool. There were people who liked something I wrote, who saw some kind of value in it, and that made me want to write more.

I’ve written for a long time, and I’ve published fic in the past, but this last year was the first one where it felt worth doing. I haven’t written and enjoyed writing this much since I was a very little kid creating for my own entertainment. And that enjoyment is solely to blame on the abstract idea of Audience you are (hopefully) a part of.

I have a lot of writing aspirations for 2023, which I won’t tell you about. Inshallah, but I really don’t expect to fulfil most of them, and some are contradictory in practice. What I will leave you with is a little confession. I’ve rewritten this same letter every day of February, making all sorts of big and small changes to try to get it right.

One sentiment has managed to get through nearly every version with its original wording intact, but it’s entirely lacking from this one. It simply didn’t work with the flow. It’s also the part I value the most, the least processed across so many revisions. So, to be the worst, I’m going to end this by quoting myself being excessive.

‘[…] thank you for giving me your time and whatever part of your heart that I’ve earned. If you’ve found meaning in my work, then you hopefully already know how much of mine you have.’

#i should shut up

[foodbytesback]

Postmates Slays with New "Bottom Diet" Menu

Happy Pride Month! It’s time for corporations to pretend to care about gay people again!

While most companies are content to just slap a rainbow overlay on their Twitter profile pic, Postmates, however, is going one step beyond: they’ve partnered with a “sexual wellness” surgeon (whatever that means) to create a Bottom Friendly Menu.  The menu focuses mainly on foods high in soluble fiber, such as fruits (lol) and white rice, to promote regularity for those who wish to receive anal sex, while avoiding foods that could either back you up (insoluble fiber like whole grains, and also dairy) or give you the runs (fats).  For the moment, the menu only covers restaurants in LA and NYC (because only big city gays have money), and focuses a lot on sushi and somehow coffee?  That thing that people always joke about giving them the shits??

On one hand, I’m somewhat concerned.  A lot of online queer discourse lately has focused around respectability politics-or more specifically, not buying into them- with many believing that the best way to keep corporate interests and influence out of queer communities is to make and keep said communities weird and sexual and unapproachable by the straight masses, so we can truely be ourselves. I would be surprised if any straight person has even read up to this point.  The fact that a big corporation is leaning this hard into “gay people have anal sex” could have repercussions for how far corporations will be willing to go in the future.     

On the other hand, this is so fucking funny.  Yass, I guess.

But what about diets for other queer identities? Would a top diet be focused around protein to increase muscle mass, in hopes to increase overall stamina, or carbo-loading for a big boost of energy?  Would a verse diet be a combination of the top and bottom diets, just so you’re extra prepared for anything?  Does the whole “pineapple makes your cum taste better” thing play into any of this?  Would an asexual menu be all cake? (Has anyone made a  “asexual people love cake” joke since 2010?)

One article by Insider also (falsely?) claims that part of being a bottom is also the desire to relinquish control to your partner (the word for that is “sub,” and while they aren’t mutually exclusive, they aren’t exactly synonyms either).  But that did get me thinking…

What if someone like Grubhub were to up the ante with an ordering service where a dom gets to choose what a sub eats?  The sub would fill out a form with their preferences and dietary restrictions, of course, so that their (randomly assigned?) dom will know ahead of time how to treat them right, and, I don’t know, they both agree to split the cost of the meal? Maybe there can be a sliding scale of who pays what percent of the tab depending on how into findom they are? Ok, I started writing this paragraph as a joke but I feel like once the kinks (lol) are worked out, I think there could actually be potential in a food delivery service where someone else picks your food for you.  Maybe someday, the prudes will let us have this.

[Oh, and one quick housekeeping note: I’ve decided I’m not going to write these posts on a weekly basis anymore, just when a story I feel like writing about or a terrible cooking video idea comes up. Posts will probably still happen Mondays around noon when they do happen, but forcing myself to write about shit when there isn’t a hot take to be had was just getting old.]

#food #pride month #postmates #bottom-friendly diet #love when i accidentally come up with a galaxy brain take

[bibbawrites]

Teach Me How To Love - Reggie Peters x Reader (SMUT - 18+)

Request: Reggie being a virgin and the reader teases him like sitting on his lap and moving innocently or gently brushing their fingertips over his skin while whispering (appropriate or inappropriate) things in his ear and reggie wants to have sex with them but he does not know how to make this pleasant for both the reader and him so the reader kinda "teaches" him

Word Count: 664 words

Summary: best friend reggie asks for your help with him losing his virginity, and you’re more than happy to help

Warnings: swearing, sex (obviously), riding, mentions of drug use by teenagers

A/N: sorry this took so long but i literally had no inspiration for it at all so i decided to just do as much as i could and just post it cause i feel so guilty for taking so long sorry its not really what you requested but i hope you still enjoy it!

good news tho i might have a little bit of a surprise announcement coming in the next couple of days so keep your eyes peeled 

Tag List: @happinessinthedarkesttimes​ @carries-flynn @joynersgoatblog​ @courageous-she​ @littlemissaddict​ @gloomybrieyxb​ @itsyagorlemmalyn @jatpxmultifan​ @moneybagmgk​ @emeliii1​ @mybradforddream​ (the strike through means it wont let me tag you)

Being best friends with the boys from Sunset Curve was always an adventure. Most days you had no idea what to expect from them. 

Today was no different, with Reggie cornering you after a band practice, once Alex had left and Luke and Bobby had disappeared to “study”, which you all knew was just code for them smoking weed and making out for hours on Bobby’s roof. 

“I need to ask you something.” Reggie mumbled. You squeezed his hand.

“What’s up buttercup?” You asked, and he blushed slightly at the nickname.

“Can we go somewhere more private?” He questioned quietly, and you nodded.

“Of course we can. I know just the place.” You grabbed his hand and pulled him along behind you until you reached your house. You led him into your backyard, stopping at the bottom of the tall tree in your yard, and looking up. Reggie followed your gaze, spotting the large-ish tree house half way up the tree.

You let go of his hand to climb the ladder, knowing that Reggie would follow, and in no time at all the two of you were curled into the bean bags that were in the tree house.

“This is my secret spot.” You admitted. “You’re the only one other than my dad who knows it’s here.”

“Thank you.” Reggie smiled softly, and you nodded.

“Now, what was it you wanted to ask me?” You questioned. He looked down at his hands, playing with his fingers.

“Promise me you won’t laugh?” His voice was soft. You reached out and took one of his hands.

“I promise.” You assured him. He was silent for a moment.  

“I’m a virgin.” He mumbled eventually. You frowned.

“That’s all?” You asked. He looked up at you.

“What do you mean that’s all? It’s embarrassing, especially since I know that you’re not. Luke and Alex have had sex. Hell, even Bobby has done it once and he’s asexual, so he doesn’t even like sex.” He ranted slightly. You squeezed his hand again, trying your best to comfort him.

“Reg, it’s literally not a big deal at all. You have plenty of time to have sex.”

“I want to have sex with you.” He blurted out. Your eyes widened.

“What?” You asked, wanting to make sure that you had heard him right. He bit his lip.

“I want to sleep with you. I want you to teach me everything.”

- 

“Are you okay? Remember if you want me to stop, I’ll stop.” You told him, brushing a strand of sweaty hair out of Reggie’s eyes. He lent up, placing a soft kiss on your lips, an oddly intimate gesture for best friends.

“I want this.” He assured you. 

"You're positive?" You checked. He nodded. 

"Positive."

"Okay then." You reached for the condom that Reggie had brought with him, tearing the packet open and sliding it onto his dick, feeling him tense up at the feeling of your hand around his dick. 

“I’m gonna ride you.” You said, and he nodded. You moved slightly, sliding down onto his dick, almost moaning at the pleasure of him filling you up, ignoring the slight discomfort. 

“That feels so good.” Reggie gasped out. 

“We haven’t even started yet Reg.” You giggled. 

“Can we start then?” He pleaded and you didn’t answer, opting to lift yourself off his dick and slide back down again. 

You formed a steady rhythm, the only sound in the room the sounds of slapping skin and breathless pants, increasing in speed until eventually you both hit your peaks and orgasmed. 

“Thank you.” Reggie mumbled afterwards, his face pressed into your neck. You smiled softly. 

“You’re welcome Reg. Wanna go get high with Luke and Bobby?” You suggested and he sat up quickly, nodding. 

“Fuck yeah.” He grinned, scrambling for his clothes. You couldn’t help but smile watching him get dressed. 

You might not have romantic feelings for the bassist but boy could you get used to fucking around with him. 

#reggie peters #reggie peters x reader #reggie peters smut #reader insert

[bluejayblueskies]

an ill-fitting definition

rating: M words: 4.3k relationships: jongeorgie, jontim, jonmartin, background wtgfs additional tags: canon compliant, pre-canon, scottish safehouse period, canon asexual character, fluff, kissing, implied sexual content, rumors and misconceptions

written for weeks two/three of @archivalpride for the prompts identity and doubt!

cw for misconceptions about asexuality, assumptions made about somebody’s sexuality, rumors and outing somebody without their knowledge, non-explicit/implied sexual content, mention of canonical character death, mention of canonical stalking and paranoia, gossip (including of the sexual nature), food, very mild blood, mild internalized acephobia

ao3 link in source

.

It’s three weeks and two days after they began dating, when Georgie picks up Jon’s hand where it’s clasped in hers and asks with plain curiosity in her voice, so does the ring, y’know, mean anything?, that Georgie hears the word asexual cross Jon’s lips for the first time.

It’s not a word she’s unfamiliar with; she’s run in enough LGBTQ spaces in her time in uni that she has a good idea of the breadth of identities that are out there. She rubs her thumb across Jon’s ring and thinks, in the voice of the gender and equality training instructor with sharp red heels and a “fun” black dress who’d stood in front of the seminar she’d been mandated to take for one of her courses:

Asexuality. A lack of sexual attraction. An aversion or repulsion to sexual activities.

It had been a small word on a large black-and-white slide, crammed in next to aromanticism and overcrowded by a myriad of other sexual identities discussed at length. It had been… quite a comprehensive training, Georgie thinks as she quits fidgeting with Jon’s ring and instead threads their fingers together. For a moment, she considers asking what he means anyway, but she quickly dismisses the thought. She wants to be supportive, and as Jon looks at her with open, trusting eyes and a faint smile, she decides that she knows enough. She doesn’t want to make it awkward, and with things like these, she’s found that asking Jon to explain his feelings in plain terms can be… well, awkward is certainly a word for it. Best just not to bring it up, she decides.

Still, she feels the need to ask, “Can I kiss you?” because the red no sex sign blinking on and off in her head is frustratingly vague on what, exactly, is contained within that stipulation. When Jon voices his assent, she tips her head up and presses a quick kiss to his chin before kissing him on the lips, wiping the disgruntled look off them.

So yes to kissing, she thinks, tucking that away next to no sex. Yes kissing, no sex. Yes holding hands, she adds as she squeezes Jon’s hand in hers and he smiles at her, warm and soft, that special side of Jon that she only sees on occasion. No pet names, she adds a week later when she tries out sweetheart and Jon’s nose wrinkles with displeasure. No foot rubs, when Jon swats at her and says, between giggles, that he’s awfully ticklish. Yes back rubs. Yes cuddling. No PDA. No touching with wet or sticky hands. Yes brushing hair.

That’s as far as she gets before, one year and two months after she begins dating Jonathan Sims, she stops. After which point she stops keeping track, because, well. There’s really no point anymore, is there?

.

.

.

“I’m sorry,” Jon says, burying his head in his hands.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Tim says quickly, holding his hands in the air in a placating gesture. He scoots a few inches away from Jon on the couch for good measure, unsure just how much space Jon needs right now. “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize—I should apologize. I should have asked first.”

“It’s just—” Jon makes a frustrated noise, and when he takes his hands away his cheeks are dark and he won’t meet Tim’s eyes. “It’s complicated.”

“It’s okay,” Tim repeats, watching with a twisting feeling in his stomach as Jon apparently notices that the button of his trousers is still undone and quickly goes to redo it. His eyes follow the movements of Jon’s hands automatically, and just as automatically, he notes the distinct lack of a tent in the front of Jon’s trousers. The same… cannot be said for his own. Particularly after nearly twenty minutes of kissing, which Tim had very much enjoyed.

Christ, had Jon been uncomfortable with that as well? All in a rush, Tim says, “Was the kissing bad too?” Then, he winces—fuck, that sounded accusatory—and adds, “It- it’s okay if it was, I just- I didn’t know, and I don’t want to do something that makes you uncomfortable, Jon.”

“No, the- the kissing was fine, it’s just...” Jon makes an aborted motion with his hands, like he’s trying and failing to find the words.

“... complicated?” Tim supplies.

Jon nods mutely.

“That’s okay,” Tim says, and he finds that he means it. “We don’t have to do anything more than kissing if you don’t want to.”

“I- I don’t…” Jon worries his bottom lip between his teeth. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, like he’s searching for the right words, the crease in his forehead deepening every moment he fails to find them. Finally, he lets out a long, labored breath, pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers, and says, “Yes, that… that might be best.”

Tim studies Jon’s face. It’s pinched and a bit stiff, like Jon would very much like to crawl out of his skin or melt into a puddle and disappear. “You sure?” he feels compelled to ask, placing a hand carefully on Jon’s knee. “You, uh. You seem a bit unsure.”

Jon sits there a moment more, spine straight and rigid, before melting slightly against Tim’s hand, his face slipping into something more relaxed but no less unhappy. “Yes.” He hesitates a moment, then says, a bit stiltedly, “I’m, um. I’m asexual. Since we’re already talking about this, I… I may as well get that out in the open as well.”

Oh. A few pieces slot into place, and Tim says with perhaps a bit more enthusiasm than necessary, “Oh. Why didn’t you tell—?” He cuts himself off and offers Jon a sheepish smile. “Sorry, sorry. That was rude of me. Thank you for telling me.”

“We’re dating,” Jon says bluntly. “It was going to come up eventually.”

“Still.” Tim shrugs, then reaches for Jon’s hand and holds it tightly in his. “Thanks.” He hesitates only a moment before leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to Jon’s nose. Jon makes a disgruntled noise, which Tim thinks is adorable. Then, because it feels appropriate, he says, “Y’know, Danny… Danny was asexual. Aromantic too, actually. We had a big talk about it a few years ago where he sort of… laid it all out for me.” No sex, no romance, no thank you, had been the overall gist of it. Tim makes a new box for Jon and fills it in with the words no sex, yes romance, it’s complicated.

“Oh,” Jon says quietly, with that same sort of sadness in his eyes that he gets every time Tim mentions Danny, something much gentler than pity and significantly less cloying. If Tim notices the faint discomfort that accompanies it, something that whispers that isn’t my definition of asexuality, we’re not the same, you don’t understand if one were to listen closely enough, he doesn’t let on.

Tim does, however, notice the discomfort in Jon’s eyes—now mixed with anger—when two years, six months, and seven days later, he accuses Tim of murder. But by then, their days of hand-holding and nose-kissing are far, far behind them.

.

.

.

“Maybe he just needs to get laid,” Melanie says with a groan, lying on Georgie’s couch and staring at the ceiling. The Admiral is curled up on her lap, purring contentedly. She scratches absentmindedly under his chin.

“What, Jon?” Georgie appears in Melanie’s field of vision, wielding a damp wooden spoon and frowning.

“No. No.” Melanie shakes her head emphatically. “Martin. He’s been all… sulky lately. I think he’s still upset that Jon came to me instead of him for help, but I don’t know why he has to be all… touchy about it.”

“Ah. Well, you know, he is a bit hung up on Jon. At least, according to you.”

“I don’t see how that’s my problem,” Melanie says grumpily. “Besides, didn’t you say that Jon went on about Martin, like, all the time? Sounds like he’s got it bad as well. Maybe they could just… y’know.”

“Melanie.”

“What?” Melanie tries to shoot Georgie a glare, but it’s obstructed by the back of the couch. “I’m on my last nerve, Georgie!”

“I know, honey. But Jon’s really not… well, he’s not very open about these sorts of things. Getting him to talk about his feelings was like pulling teeth when we were together.”

“It still baffles me that you used to date.”

“He’s very sweet when you get to know him!” There’s a pause, a few clatters from the kitchen. “Besides, even if he and Martin got around to talking, Jon… well, he doesn’t.”

Melanie frowns. “Doesn’t what?”

“Have sex.”

“Really?” Melanie sits up, disturbing the Admiral, who lets out an irritated mrpp before adjusting himself accordingly and curling back up on her lap. “So when you were together…?”

Georgie shakes her head. “Nope. Never.”

“Huh.” Melanie thinks for a moment. “Is he like… religious or something?”

Georgie chuckles. “Jon? No, not at all. He’s asexual.”

“Isn’t that like… that thing that sponges are? Where they self-reproduce?”

“Seriously?”

Melanie scowls at the incredulous look Georgie’s giving her. “What? I’m not being a- a dick, I’ve just never heard of it before.”

“You were a YouTuber. Your job was to be internet famous.”

“Okay, now you’re just making fun of me.”

Georgie shoots Melanie a grin. “Sorry. Basically, it means that Jon doesn’t do sex. Like… at all. He just… doesn’t.”

“Huh,” Melanie says again.

“Yeah.” Georgie turns back to the stove. “Now, come here. Tell me if there’s too much salt?”

“Sorry Admiral,” Melanie whispers as she deposits him onto the floor and crosses the room to wrap her arms around Georgie’s waist from behind and take the bite of sauce on the spoon Georgie holds out for her. “Mm, tastes great. As always.”

And in the back of her mind, Melanie adds another line to the section labeled Jonathan Sims and writes, with careful handwriting, he doesn’t.

.

.

.

Although… according to Georgie, Jon doesn’t.

Martin pauses the tape and rubs his hands over his eyes. His cheeks are burning red, and he takes a few minutes to just breathe.

Doesn’t what? Doesn’t date? Doesn’t kiss? Doesn’t—

Martin stops that train of thought before it goes any further, the flush on his face growing in intensity. It’s none of my business, he tells himself as he ejects the tape and turns it over in his hands a few times before sliding it back into the small box it had come from.

He still can’t help but think about it. He thinks about it before the Unknowing, when Jon hesitates just a moment before wrapping him in a tight hug and whispering, I… I’ll be back, Martin. Then we can talk. He thinks about it when Jon’s in his coma, when Martin sits at his bedside and loses himself in daydreams and what-ifs. He thinks about it when Jon’s hand is clasped in his and he’s leading Martin out of cloying white fog and sea-salt air, his shirt speckled with bits of dark liquid that Martin tries to pretend isn’t blood. He thinks about it on the way to the safehouse, Jon leaning against his side, Martin’s hand clasped firmly in his.

He thinks about it a lot, in the confines of the wooden walls that let in the growing chill of the Scottish countryside.

Jon doesn’t.

He knows what Jon does. Jon makes him breakfast most days, eggs and toast and sometimes waffles, which Martin’s always considered a guilty pleasure but that he’s had more times in the past week and a half than he’s had for the past ten years. Jon puts his head on Martin’s shoulder when they sit on the couch and read, flipping through the dusty novels they’d found tucked in cardboard boxes underneath the bed that Jon had wrinkled his nose at but has been slowly making his way through nevertheless. Jon clings to Martin like his life depends on it when they sleep, and Martin will wake in the morning with one arm slung across his chest, a leg between his, and a sizeable portion of hair tickling at his nose.

And, nine days into their stay, Jon smiles at Martin as he shuffles into the kitchen in the morning, stands on his toes, and presses a soft kiss to Martin’s lips.

“Um,” Martin says eloquently, still half-asleep and trying to process what he’s 98% sure is their first kiss. He’d be 100% sure except for the fact that Jon kissed him like it was nothing, like it was easy, like it was something they do every morning.

The smile slips from Jon’s face, and he looks nervous. “I- I’m sorry, I should have asked first—”

“No, no, it’s- it’s okay,” Martin hastens to say, taking one of Jon’s hands in his and squeezing gently. “Just- just surprised, that’s all. I, um. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to kiss me, given that we haven’t…” He gestures absently, his face heating up. Stop talking, Martin. “Yeah,” he finishes lamely.

“Oh,” Jon says with a frown. “I… apologize for giving you that impression. I- I love you, Martin—I have no problems with kissing you.”

Warmth courses through Martin, as it always does when Jon tells him that he loves him. It all feels so unreal sometimes that he’s here, with Jon, away from it all and living in quiet domesticity. “Oh,” he says, face flushed. “A- all right, then. Great!”

“Great,” Jon echoes.

“Just- just thought maybe you didn’t—”

Martin clamps his mouth shut, face heating up more, this time in embarrassment. Shut up, Martin.

Jon raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t… what?”

“Um.” Martin rubs a hand across the back of his neck. “Kiss?”

Jon looks at Martin blankly. “Oh. Well, I- I do.”

“Right, yeah, I- I put that together. When we, um. You know.”

Jon looks amused. “Kissed?”

“Yep, that,” Martin squeaks out.

They look at each other for a moment before dissolving into giggles. Jon presses another kiss to Martin’s lips and finishes making the waffles and kisses Martin again when he hands Jon his tea, and it’s really quite lovely indeed.

So Martin adds Jon kisses to his mental list of Jon does and finds a sole remainder on the list of Jon doesn’t. And it’s fine with him, he decides, if Jon doesn’t want to have sex. He just wants Jon, in whatever way Jon will have him.

Jon doesn’t do sex, he thinks as he kisses Jon goodnight.

So, three days later, when they’re on the couch and they’ve kissed until Martin is red-faced and breathless and Jon pulls back with a pinched expression on his face, Martin assumes—with hot embarrassment coursing through him—that he’s somehow gone too far and strayed into sex territory and made Jon uncomfortable.

Then, Jon says with cheeks dark and eyes focused resolutely on Martin’s chest, “Martin, would… would you like to move to the bedroom?” and Martin’s thoughts grind to a halt.

“Sorry, what?” is all he can think to say.

Jon’s cheeks grow incrementally darker. “I am asking,” he says slowly, like the words are clunky and unwieldy in his mouth, “if you would like to have sexual intercourse. With me, of course, I- I hope that was implied.”

Martin’s aware that his mouth is quite literally hanging open in shock. He closes it quickly before swallowing and saying, “I… yeah, Jon, I- I’d love that, but I thought you—”

He clamps his mouth shut again, a touch too late. Jon’s forehead creases in confusion and he says, “I what?”

Martin hems and haws for a moment before biting the bullet and saying, all in a rush, “I thought you didn’t like sex.”

Jon’s frown deepens. “What? Why?”

And god, Martin doesn’t want to admit that he’s been thinking about office gossip for nearly a year, but he’s dug his grave—he may as well lie in it. He sighs, worries his hands on his lap, and says, “I… may have listened to a tape where Melanie said that Georgie said that you… didn’t.”

Jon looks at Martin blankly for a moment before his expression flattens into something that’s equal parts irritated and resigned. “Ah. Right. That… that makes sense, I suppose.”

“I’m sorry, Jon,” Martin says emphatically, placing his hand atop Jon’s and squeezing. “I- I didn’t mean to hear it; I was listening to the statements and it was just there.”

“No, it’s… it’s not your fault.” Jon sighs and rubs a hand across his eyes. “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”

“What?”

Jon makes an aborted, dismissive gesture with his hand. “I’ve… never been good at explaining my own preferences. I never did with Georgie, just… told her I was asexual and left it at that. I suppose she took that to mean that I, er. Didn’t.”

Asexual. Martin has a vague notion of what that means—he’s been in enough online LGBTQ spaces to have encountered the word before, but he’s never really looked into it much himself. If pressed, he thinks he’d also assume it meant that Jon didn’t. Something a bit guilty twists within him at that thought, amplified by his next thought that Georgie shouldn’t have assumed, because, well, that’s a bit hypocritical, isn’t it? Still, he feels the need to voice it; he squeezes Jon’s hand again and says, “It’s not your fault that she just- just made assumptions about what you wanted, Jon.”

“Yes, but it’s my fault that I never corrected her.” Jon makes a face. “Or Tim, now that I think about it. I… I suppose I’m just not very good at talking about these things. Particularly because my own preferences are…” Jon’s pained expression deepens. “Christ, I don’t want to say complicated again, but there really is no other word for it.”

That’s not your fault either, Martin wants to say, but he knows Jon will just contradict him again, and he’ll repeat himself, and then they’ll just be talking in circles, and that won’t help anything. It’s frustrating, but it’s the truth. Still, Martin finds the words waiting on his lips when he opens his mouth, so he shuts it again and thinks for a moment, promising himself later. I’ll tell him later. Finally, he says carefully, “Do you… do you want to talk about it? We don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I don’t want to assume.” He lets out a humorless laugh. “Well, I don’t want to keep assuming, I suppose, given that I’ve already assumed quite a lot.” Quieter: “Sorry, again.”

“It’s fi—” Jon cuts off, takes a breath. “Th… thank you, Martin.” He hesitates a moment, then says haltingly, “I- I do want to talk about it, but I don’t—” He makes a frustrated noise. “—I don’t know how.”

“Okay,” Martin says after a moment. “You said it’s complicated, yeah?” When Jon nods mutely, he continues, “Would it help if you described how you feel right now? That’s- that’s less complicated, right?”

Jon’s mouth flattens into a thin line. “I… suppose.”

“All right, then.” Martin makes a go-on gesture, then rests his hand atop Jon’s and applies a gentle pressure.

Jon takes a few deep breaths, squints at nothing, makes a few wordless noises, then says bluntly, “I want to have sex with you.”

Martin tries really, really hard not to blush, but he doesn’t think he quite succeeds given how hot his face feels when he says, “Right, okay.” His voice is a bit higher-pitched than normal; he hopes that Jon doesn’t notice. “And, um. Do you always… want to have sex with me? Or just right now.”

Jon grimaces. “That’s where it gets complicated.” He makes an I-don’t-know gesture with his free hand and says, “No? Yes? I don’t know, Martin. I’m told that not wanting sex all the time is- is normal, that- that you have to be in the mood, but apparently I’m just supposed to know when I’ll be in the mood and when I won’t be, and that- that doesn’t really work for me.”

“Are you—” Martin cringes internally, but forces the words out. “—in the mood right now?”

“Well,” Jon grumbles, “not anymore, but I was. And it’s complicated, because even if I am, I- I don’t always want to be touched, but how do you explain that to someone, how- how do you tell someone that it’s mostly no but sometimes yes and there’s a very good chance that I might change my mind halfway through and decide that it’s no after all?”

“I think,” Martin says patiently, “that you just say that.”

Jon gives Martin a look. “Martin.”

“What? It’s true!” Martin gives Jon as reassuring a smile as he can muster. “It made sense to me, at least.”

“Yes, but that’s not—” Jon makes a frustrated noise. “It’s not whether or not it makes sense, it’s whether or not somebody is willing to put up with a sexual partner who doesn’t know whether or not they’re going to want to have sex on any given day, whether they- they’ll be repulsed or interested or want to give but not receive or the other way around or- or something else that I haven’t thought of but that will likely happen because consistency is, apparently, off the cards for me entirely.”

“Hey, hey,” Martin says gently, placing a hand on Jon’s shoulder and rubbing gentle circles with his thumb. “Jon, look at me.” When Jon looks, albeit reluctantly, Martin continues, “I can’t speak for other people, and I- I can’t tell you how to feel, but I can tell you how I feel, and I… I’m willing. No, more than willing—I love you, Jon, all of you, and if this is how you feel, then I love that about you too. Whatever you’re willing to give me, it… it’ll be enough. You’re enough.”

Jon’s cheeks darken and he looks away. After a long moment, he says in a stiff voice, “Well. Thank you, Martin.” Then, a bit softer: “I… I love you too.” He looks at Martin then and offers him a small, weak smile. “It’s… well, it’s still awkward, but it’s not quite as bad—talking about all of this—as I thought it would be.”

“Well, I’m glad you did. Talk to me about it, that is.”

Jon’s smile turns a bit hesitant. “So you would really be okay if I… if I never asked again? To, er. To have sex.”

“Yes,” Martin says, without hesitation.

“Oh,” Jon says quietly. “And- and if I said that I did? Want to? That… that would be okay too? Even if I’d already said that I didn’t?”

“Yep.”

Jon looks down at his hands where they’re twisted tightly in the hem of his jumper, then back up at Martin. “All right.” He hesitates a moment, then says, “And if… if I said that I wanted to have sex… now?”

Ah. It looks like Martin’s not done blushing quite yet. “Yep, that- that’s fine with me,” he squeaks out, then cringes internally. Fine? Really?

Thankfully, Jon doesn’t seem offended; if anything, he seems amused, his mouth quirking up into a small smirk. “All right, then.” He leans forward and presses a kiss to Martin’s lips, soft and chaste and ever-so-slightly lingering before he pulls away. “I, er. I think I’d like to just kiss for a bit, though.” His smile turns teasing. “Foreplay is very important, after all.”

Martin groans and gives Jon a look, his face likely fully tomato-red by now. “Jon.”

“Need to make sure we’re fully in the mood before beginning proceedings—”

“Yes, yes, you’ve made your point,” Martin says, a giggle slipping out around the words. Then, because he’s nothing if not a little mischievous himself, he leans forward and captures Jon’s lips in a kiss, significantly less chaste and a touch more insistent, pressing until Jon is leaned back against the arm of the couch and Martin is hovering over him. Martin disengages from the kiss so he can marvel at the flushed, wide-eyed expression on Jon’s face. “Like that?” he says innocently.

Jon blinks up at him for a few seconds, like he’s not entirely sure how to process everything in front of him, before he smiles, a warm, happy thing that captures Martin’s heart entirely and steals it away. “I do believe that was adequate, yes. Perhaps you should do it again though, just to make sure.”

So Martin does. I love him, he thinks as he kisses Jon on the couch and kisses him again on the bed, kisses him in the spot between his shoulder blades where he always carries tension and in the dip of his clavicle and on the inside of his thigh. And when he’s curled up next to Jon after, he presses another kiss to the crown of Jon’s head and wraps his arms around him and quietly discards his mental lists of does and doesn’t. He’ll start from scratch, he decides, and after a moment’s thought, he comes up with two more lists, upon which it’s surprisingly easy to add item after item after item.

Jon likes to be kissed. Jon likes eggs and toast, but not jam, and likes his tea black and slightly oversteeped. Jon doesn’t like wool because he finds it itchy. Jon doesn’t like white wine, but he likes red, the kinds that are too dry for Martin’s tastes.

Jon likes Martin, and Martin likes him too. So, so much. And even when things change, when Jon finds a white wine he likes at a restaurant they visit and he takes his tea once with honey and enjoys it and he goes through a period where he doesn’t enjoy open-mouthed kisses and Martin adjusts his lists accordingly, that remains.

#archivalpride #the magnus archives #jongeorgie #jontim #jonmartin #tma #jonathan sims #tim stoker #georgie barker #melanie king #martin blackwood #my fic #my writing

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Time Apart

CW: Trauma survivor, referenced noncon and assault, heavy internalized victim-blaming and self-loathing/anti-asexuality (Chris has serious issues from his conditioning around this)

(references events from this small series)

I think you should spend time apart, not with me.

When Chris picks up his phone, it's not at all the message from Laken he expected to see. Not the kind of thing they've ever sent before.

He has to read it two times, then three. The letters swim and shake along with a dull pounding inside his head, but no matter how he tries to make them into other words - tell himself he must have misunderstood, must be missing something - they come back together the same in the end.

I think you should spend time apart, not with me.

Each letter is as crisp and clean as a sterilized blade between each rib, one by one by one by one.

The words are a body blow. They're a hundred blows, beating him into a barely recognizable shattered shell of himself. It wasn't supposed to happen this way - it's been a bad few days, yeah, a bad week really, but until yesterday's fight it had never occurred to him that Laken might give up on him.

The fight was his fault, anyway.

He meant to apologize last night, but then Nova had come into his room, and he'd lost the rest of the night to lying next to Jake, trying to remember how to stop living inside his head again, how to stop being still.

He'd woke up this morning with his stomach doing butterfly flips inside him, nervous, but he'd really wanted to say he was sorry, for the fight, for all the weirdness lately. He'd wanted to apologize for being difficult.

Instead... he'd woken up to find a missed text from the night before, sent after he'd shoved Nova away but before he could stand to look at anything again.

I think you should spend time apart, not with me.

There it sits.

He hasn't unlocked his phone yet. Instead, he keeps tapping the button to light up the screen, looking at the message preview that has all he needs to see. Lets it go dark again. As if one of these times he'll click and it'll say something else.

But it doesn't,

It just says the same damn thing.

I think you should spend time apart.

Not with me.

He's still staring at it when another one comes in. He feels the soft pulse of his phone in his hand, and the screen lights on its own.

LAKEN - NOW Did you see my message? 

He thinks maybe Kauri had it easier when he was the age Chris is now. Back when Kauri carried on entire conversations in emoji form, letting the nuance and ambiguity take over, the recipient working through the meaning on their own. With this, each letter is merciless, each word is unmistakable. He can’t misunderstand it. 

Can he?

He opens the phone with shaking fingers, types back yes, presses send, and turns his phone off.

Then he throws it at the wall.

He’s grateful for the heavy plastic case that makes it bounce off and drop to the floor without breaking. There's a strip on the back, textured and a soft purple, gray, white, and black. He rubs his fingers over it sometimes in class to keep himself from rocking and being distracting.

Now he just... stares at it.

Laken bought that for him. They bought the shirt he's wearing right now-

He yanks it off his head before he can think, balls up the soft fabric and throws it as well. It just sort of drifts pointlessly to the floor, a single eyeball from the print of a band he likes staring back at him.

Laken has ranted before about people who break up by text message, and Chris has to breathe through a physical ache in his chest that tightens every muscle at how awful he must be that they're not doing this face to face. How awful, how used-up, how shredded apart, how fucking pretty he is.

After all, he and Laken have been together for more than a year, and he still held perfectly still for Nova to touch him before he remembered how to move. After all, he’s a grown man who still cried and fell apart when Jake was hurt. After all, after all, after all...

He scrambles across the floor for his phone again, turns it back on. Part of him hopes he’ll see a new text saying they take it back, they didn’t mean it. Or just asking him to apologize for what he’d said that night before, for how he’d thrown their confusion over his reaction to something back at them, echoing out the way Kauri fights sometimes, talking about himself the way he thinks everyone else might be thinking about him, so he says the insult first and no one else gets to surprise him with it.

But there’s nothing new.

He manages to open the texts again, barely, and breathes in gasps, nearly pants, as he types out, you don’t want me at your place?

Not right now.

Is it because of what I can’t do?

It takes them a minute to answer. Every single second ticks by with a slowness Chris hasn’t felt since his days in the cold white room, tied down to stillness, forced to endure every minute that passed in perfect silence or to the soundtrack of his own tears and pleading for it to stop.

When they do respond, it’s just, it’s because of what you won’t do.

His breath catches in his throat. The ache in his head starts to pound harder, and he has to close his eyes against a sharp stab behind them. 

What he won’t do.

They’ve never cared before. How-... how could they suddenly care now? The fight had only a little bit been about that, it’d really been about something else. About his nightmares, how he’s not sleeping, not seeing his friends, skipping therapy. It hadn’t even been about... that. About what Chris can do and what he can’t, in bed. 

But that was the thing - the fight had started when Chris had flinched back from Laken’s touch to his back, and snapped at them, and accused them of wanting too much, and...

And now this.

It’s like they knew about Nova. Knew that he could be good just fine - better than fine, Handler Petrus said he was one of the best he’d ever worked with once - he just... wouldn’t. Won’t. Doesn’t want to. Never wanted to. 

Can’t do it without tearing himself to pieces all over again. 

It was always a scream inside his mind, but should he have pushed it down and tried harder to be more like everyone else? Is he losing Laken because of it? Did Nova pick up on something Chris himself doesn’t know?

Should he have... tried?

Even if it hurt?

He drops the phone again, then kicks it viciously under his bed, listening to the scrape of it sliding across the floor, the thump as it hits the wall. He hears it vibrate again, but this time he doesn’t care what Laken has to say.

They’ve said enough.

He understands.

Part of him expected this eventually.

He leaves the room, doesn’t bother to pull on his compression shirt, even. He lets his skin prickle bare and exposed to the air. He accepts the discomfort, the uneasy feeling of being too seen, too felt. 

The house is quiet, this early. 

He makes himself toast with butter, wincing at the scrape of the knife against the crisp bread, the sound boring into his ears. But eventually it’s done, and he slumps into a chair at the kitchen table, willing himself to cry. Somehow, the tears just... don’t happen.

He can hear Jake snoring softly from the living room. He’d been up with Chris until nearly 4 am, then Chris was awake again at 6:30, looking at that text, looking over and over and over again. Two hours of sleep leave him weirdly euphoric alongside his despair. Like he’s floating in some nightmare place that isn’t awake and isn’t sleeping, either.

He’s probably slept nine hours in three days at this point. He keeps seeing Jake with a knife sticking out of him every time he closes his eyes. Jake, screaming as Antoni pushed cloth into his wound to stop up the bleeding. Jake with a bullet wound, sitting up against the wall, staring at him with wide eyes whispering, It’s okay, Tristan, I love you, it’s okay as he dies. 

He can’t sleep. He can’t leave for long. He can’t breathe. He can’t think.

Him being what he is, it’s the reason Jake is hurt. If he hadn’t been his brother, he wouldn’t have decided to run a house for Romantics, and he wouldn’t have ended up dealing with all the dangerous bits about them.

Jake said it himself, didn’t he? It’s a mistake, running a house for Romantics. Not his best idea. A mistake.

Chris is a mistake.

Him being weak, and cowardly... it’s hurting Jake, making his life harder.

He makes everyone’s life harder.

There’s a soft sound of footsteps behind him, and he turns to find Nova in the doorway, staring back. She’s in a sleeveless gray dress and has her long dark hair pulled back from her temples, spilling in a waterfall down her back. Her eyes are dark and fathomless, and she gives him a faint, slight smile.

She had smiled like that with one hand down his pants.

Chris turns around, too fast, his head spinning a little, and hunches over his toast. “Good... good, um, good morning,” He mumbles. 

She clears her throat. “Morning. Chris, about-... about last night...”

“Don’t, um, don’t-... don’t don’t don’t worry about it.” He takes a breath. He doesn’t want his toast any longer. 

“I’m sorry,” She says, simply. “I spoke to Sarita about it, and... and she said this happens with us, and I should apologize, but, um. So I am. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-... I thought I was helping.”

“I... know you did.” His words are slowing down. Chris can’t hold on to his thoughts, they want to drift away somewhere else, somewhere safer. Somewhere darker. 

“When I was with-... with my Miss, she would always say, if you are sad the best way to fix it is to make your body forget that feeling, replace it with something else. And that was what we replaced my sadness with. So, you were sad and upset, and I thought I could fix it that way.” She pauses, flushing a little, looking down and to the side as she moves with effortless grace to get a glass and fill it with water, take a small sip. 

“Kauri used to... to do that,” Chris says after a pause, thinking about it. Kauri, who would show up in the small hours of the morning reeking of liquor and someone else’s cologne, or just didn’t show up at all. Kauri, who would laugh instead of crying, and laugh with someone’s arms around him, a guy whose name he didn’t know. 

Kauri, who ran and ran and ran and can do things and be things that Chris can’t.

Or... won’t.

What if he’s been hurting Laken this whole time and didn’t know it, because he was already hurt himself?

His foot starts to tap tap tap on the floor until he stops it. 

“Did he? Did it-... work for him?” Nova asks it with genuine curiosity, and her eyes are so pretty. He looks up at her, and then down again, pushing the plate of toast away from himself. 

“I don’t know,” Chris whispers. “I, I don’t know. He’s happy now, but...”

“Was he happy then?”

“No. But, but, but... maybe we aren’t supposed to be. At least... not with, with anyone... who isn’t like us.”

“Jake isn’t like us,” Nova points out. Her presence in the room feels heavy, like a weight pushing down on him. But what does it matter? He’s not with Laken anymore, anyway. If he wanted to, he could stand right up and kiss Nova right now, press her back into the counter, and learn what it’s like to be the one doing things and not just having them done to him.

But his body doesn’t stir at the thought. It never has.

“He is,” Chris answers. “A, a little bit. I’m, I’m, I’m sorry, too, Nova. Sorry that I-I can’t.”

“No, I know. You have a partner, and I shouldn’t have-”

“I don’t have... I, I, I I don’t have a partner anymore.” Chris stands up, leaving her there with his plate of untouched toast. The sky outside is bright as the sun rises, as if mocking the way he feels like a stormcloud inside. 

Nova watches him leave, and whispers to herself, “No partner?”

Chris goes outside, pulling a sweatshirt that hangs on the coatrack on over his head to protect his skin, curling up on the porch swing and watching cars pulling out of driveways as the neighborhood starts to head to work in ones and twos. 

He doesn’t cry.

He sits very, very still, and he is silent. 

Upstairs, under the bed, his phone vibrates, again and again, unnoticed.

Just go talk to Nat, Chris. That’s all I said. Just go see Nat and get a night or three away from the house. Being there all the time is overwhelming you. Are you even looking at these? Chris you can’t just ignore me every time I say something you don’t like Chris answer me ... ... Oh shit, Chris, my phone autocorrected earlier and I didn’t notice I meant “some time at Nat’s”, not apart Chris? Are you seeing my messages? Baby? Chris, please check your phone and answer me. Please.

-

@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @endless-whump @whumpfigure @astrobly @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @eatyourdamnpears

#whump oc #whump #emotional whump #angst #misunderstandings #communication misunderstanding #internalized victim-blaming #internalized self-hatred #conditioned behavior #internalized ableism #sort of #but not really? #but kinda #bbu #box boy universe #box boy #recovering whumpee #trauma recovery tw #trauma response tw #past noncon reference #ptsd tw #chris the strawberry blond romantic #nova bb

[aro-culture-is]

Okay so I'm really confused :(

I'm autistic & I'm 99.9% sure I'm asexual. Because i never ever want to do... that. But the aro spectrum is where i struggle. I have never had a crush, that's aromantic right? But i find myself thinking girls are so pretty aesthetically, but not like, i don't see girls and wanna kiss them? (etc) cause i don't know them or have a deep connection. maybe i could be demiromantic if i got to know a girl really well ? (I'm a girl too) buuut, i struggle to understand the difference between romance & platonic? so thats platoniromantic? or nebularomantic since I'm autistic? the only things i feel fit me are nebularomantic/platoniromantic, queerplatonic (towards girls), possibly demiromantic? but at the same time can i be nebularomantic and demi?😅 i am so confused and i feel like such a mess. i don't want a relationship. i don't, but at the same time I've always loved girl×girl couples or very close best friends? aro ace orientated? i have no idea :(

hi,

so, I think it’s worth starting by saying that I don’t know you and I can’t tell you how to identify. I also firmly believe that labels are meant to provide you community, not to be a box you’re stuck in - feel free to use any of these labels, even simultaneously, if they bring you community and a sense of being understood. I do also want to point out that you can like girl x girl couples without having any kind of attraction towards girls, or even being a girl. Fiction can be a great place to explore yourself, but also, not necessarily a great indicator. I’ve always been drawn to mlm couples in fiction, but i’m neither a guy nor necessarily attracted to men.

all of these labels sound like possibilities. you’re totally welcome to go by aro-spec - everything you’ve labeled falls under that umbrella. you can also choose to use more specific terms - you could think to yourself “hey, I don’t have crushes / experience romantic attraction, and I don’t want to have a relationship, so aromantic is a good functional label to me”. you could also decide, “hey, I think if I had a strong emotional bond with someone, I think I could experience romantic attraction even if I haven’t yet, I’d rather label myself demiromantic”. etc, etc, etc. Plantoniromantic and nebularomantic both sound possible - not to add to that, but you could also find quoiromantic a useful label. I wouldn’t be surprised if nebularomantic, being inherently intersectional, feels comforting for you. Oriented aroace (lesbian aroace, possibly, if you like that for yourself) could also be possible.

Overall, feel free to follow blogs for those identities, and just… listen to the community. See what you like, what you don’t like, how you feel as you go. It’s okay. You can always change your mind.

- mod kee

#not aro culture #aro #aromantic #actually aro #actually aromantic #ask #mod kee #am i aro

[helloblobbyblobfish]

Convincing the friend

My best bud laughed when I told him I wanted to try to hypnotize him.

But we've been friends since kindergarten, so he decided to humor me and look at my dad's watch.

And even I wasn't expecting him to be so hypnotizable. He fell near immediately.

He is a clean freak, so I order him to scrub his nose and eat his boogers. I was expecting him to resist, but I have to stop him from actually eating one.

Holy shit. That's perfect. First, I tell him he is intrigued by the idea of being hypnotized. That he will ask to be my subject when I'll train to become the best hypnotist. He nods, never taking his eyes away from the watch.

Then, I take him on a trip down memory lane. See, I am a very tactile guy, but my bro Jeremy think being touchy means you are gay. I mean, I'm an homoromantic asexual, but that has nothing to do with being a cuddler.

So, I make him remember when we were younger and he didn't mind me touching him. And I make sure he longs for it. Me playing with his hair, hugs so tights he can't breathe, piggy rides on his strong back…

Man, he is so receptive, I might be tempted to convince Jeremy he wants to kiss me…

#hypnosis #gay hynposis #captions #my writing #I have many captions on different docs I never posted. Time to show some of my favorites.

[mirjam-writes]

My Good Omens fics 2021

This is basically all of my Good Omens fics (except the one I posted yesterday), because I posted the first one to this fandom in May 2021. Here’s some stats and thoughts about them. Every fic has also its own Tumblr post, if you feel like reblogging one of them 💗 I wrote six stories in eight months, with 58 672 words, got 4 879 hits, 72 comment threads and 824 kudos.  I’m a bit of a nobody as a writer, so when I say “this one got a lot of kudos”, I mean something like 200, which I know is the amount the well known writers get in the first day, but it’s a lot for me and makes me happy. If you ever want to talk about any of my fics, please do! I’d be super taken and delighted of any asks, pms or tweets about my writing, and I’m also giving you a blanket permission to draw any art of my stories! And don’t worry about your skills. Believe me, I’d be happy with stick figures! If you like my story enough to draw, I’ll probably cry.

So here goes my fic list of 2021!

Most kudos: Truth Or Dare (E, 6523 words)

The fic’s own Tumblr post.  My first attempt at smut since forever! Aziraphale and Crowley play (sort of) truth or dare to learn more about each other after the canceled Armageddon. I had several minor headcanons and ideas in my head that were not enough for a full story. When I decided to try smut writing, I decided to use them as the truths for the game! 

This was posted in september, but got more kudos in a week than my previous works had got in several months. I was amazed, I’m definitely insecure about my smut writing skills, so this was a huge confidence boost. This is also a part of the Top Crowley collection, because my Aziraphale wanted it that way ;) 

Best Kudos/Hits ratio: I Say A Little Prayer (For You) (G, 1976 words)

The fic’s own Tumblr post. Aziraphale prays in secret, Crowley finds out and they talk about their feelings about it and about their relationship with God. The shortest and fluffiest piece I have written so far. I wrote this in two days from the idea to posting, which never happens to me. I’m the kind of writer who brews an idea for months before writing a single line. And then this happened. 

It’s fun that my most liked fics are an E rated smut piece, and this G rated fluffy thing where they don’t even kiss! Actually, while it is not explicitly stated in the story, in my head, in this universe, Aziraphale and Crowley are in an asexual relationship, Crowley is aromantic(ish) and they care for each other deeply. If you like this one, you might also like Be My Forever (G, 2924 words) which was my first fic on 2022. It could be part of the same universe as this one and is just as fluffy and soft. 

Most Underrated: Sparrow On A Christmas Morning (E, 10645 words)

The fics own Tumblr post. This is canon compliant regency era Ineffable Wives fic, written for a gift exchange. It became very important to me for personal reasons, but I also like it as a story. I like how I managed to make the scenes flow, and how I managed to pack so much emotion and pining into this little thing.

Why I chose this as the most underrated? Well, it’s one of my personal favourites, and also all the five comments this piece has got so far are excited and gushing. However, this has a lot less kudos than my other works, and the kudos/hits ratio is also very low. I’m not sure if it’s because of the gender of the characters or the length or premise of the fic, but I feel this story deserves a bit more love than the stats indicate ❤

My Longest Piece: Whatever Floats Your Goat (T, 22633 words)

Fics own Tumblr post. My take on how the Heaven and Hell would have dealt with the birth of Christ, and how the Bible stories about angel visits could have gone if Gabriel had no idea how humans work. Also, my attempt on humor. Gabriel messes things up, Aziraphale cleans up after him and Crawly is a confused spectator to all of the above. I had so much fun writing this, and I ended up reading way too much Bible in the process.. Okay, this actually has the least amount of kudos of all of my fics, but I sort of expected that, because it is under Aziraphale & Crowley friendship tag (they were not in any other kind of relationship back then), it’s too long to just “try it out”, and I guess bible stories are a bit of a niche. There’s not that many hits either, so I guess people just haven’t found it or been interested enough to click on it. But it’s my first multi chaptered work and I liked writing it. Also, bad goat puns.

First Fic to GO Fandom: The Angel of Justice (G, 9598 words)

The fic’s own Tumblr post. This is the one that inspired me to write again. The Almighty demotes Gabriel without an explanation, and it falls to Michael to figure out why. The investigation takes Michael to Earth to find out what happened when the Armageddon was cancelled, and what kind of relationship a certain angel and a demon really have. 

I was delighted of the idea how Aziraphale and Crowley did so much but had so little impact on cancelling the Armageddon! I also wanted to do a character study on Michael, and try my hand at their outsider pov reaction to the husbands. 

Whatever Floats Your Goat belongs to this universe as well, and The Angel of Justice has a sequel, Brother Mine (T, 7300 words), that digs deeper into the relationship between Michael and Gabriel, and the trauma of the Fall they all share. It has a kind of redemption for Gabriel, which I know isn’t everyone’s jam, but I don’t want to write characters who are simply villains. I’m especially happy about the emotional punches I managed to write on the arguments between the angelic siblings. 

#my fanfiction #2021 recap #good omens #good omens fanfiction #mirjam writes #ineffable husbands #ineffable wives #aziraphale #crowley #archangel michael #archangel gabriel

[inkly-heart]

Naaah it’s ok.xDD He’s fine with cuddles and he loves horror movies but don’t get surprised if he starts to laugh because he thinks horror movies are funny. (More asks under the cut. I thought since I have received quite many asks I should do this so I won’t spam people with ask repliesxDD)

Hello! And I will say things has been going up and down but at the moment I feel quite ok except summer has been so hot that I have difficulties to draw sometimes because my hands are sweating like crazy and my brains feels like they are about to melt out. but other than that I’m ok. I hope you’re been doing well too!

He does know about it and they are quite close because they do all kind of things together xDD But they are just friends. 

Yes and no. He’s only immortal long as his mother is alive but if she dies Delivery guy can’t born again. And he keeps all his memories.

Angel-  Aishite Aishite Aishite【JubyPhonic】 Venni- Costee Catherine- Lady Gaga Sal- MrBallen (youtuber) Stalker- This is the Best - USS (Ubiquitous Synergy Seeker) Delivery guy- Rauski from Laeppavika (youtuber) Gunther- He sounds like Markiplier but with russian accent xDD Milla- Billie Eilish MC- I want to give people free hands to think what they would sound like. Myself I imagine male version of mc would sound bit like Caddicarus (youtuber)

Angel- Pansexual Venni- Bisexual Catherine- Bisexual Sal- Demisexual Stalker- Pansexual Delivery guy-  Pansexual Gunther- Bicurious Milla- Asexual MC- You have free hands to decide their sexuality

https://blasticheart-moved.tumblr.com/ Here you go^^ And awww<3 I could draw him more but like always my ideas been quite low xDD

Header? you mean the gif what I use on my blog?

That’s good^^ I also apologize if I don’t always reply. Sometimes inbox eats asks and sometimes I’m just empty head and have no idea what to write but if I receive asks and inbox haven’t eaten them I do always read them and I really appreciate them<3 It’s fun to read all the asks what you guys send me.

#ask #asks #aesoptoons #bloodredrosevampire

[sylensombrr]

Afterdeath Family Headcanons

No one asked for this, but I wanna talk about it and I don't wanna forget lol. Get ready, this is gonna be a long one. In my head canon, the Afterdeath family consists of Geno and Reaper,(obviously), who are the parents, and their kids Raven, Sorell, Silver, Goth, and Shino(as well as other fan kids like Candy, Momo, Demise etc. but they won't be mentioned. Might make a separate post about them if yall want/if I feel like it). They live in a huge gothic mansion, I don't know where it's located but if it's in an AU it would be next to a graveyard.(They give off huge Addams family vibes, so I had to take influence from that) They also share the house with two pets, a cat named Krueger and a raven named Archimedes, as well as three other people, Lotus, Rurik, and Palette, but I'll talk about those three later.

Geno(He/him) •Geno is in a group called "Triple Threat and Regret" consisting of him, Lust and Dance •They try to go out together every Tuesday, Geno's favorite location being Ccino's café •He's a bit of a hoarder but not much that it's a problem •Super fucking emo •Has a bit of a habit of adopting children he finds, ex. Lotus •Krueger is his cat. He found her in the graveyard. She was too old to live out in the wild, so he kept her •Horror movie fanatic, one of his favorites being A Nightmare on Elm Street •Coffee addict/Likes black coffee Reaper(He/they/it) •Best friends with Bill Sans •He's in a nameless friend group consisting of him, Bill and SD!Dream(Idea by @/_.dxnce.sxns.stan• on Instagram) •Huge heavy metal fan •Archimedes is his raven, which he treats like a familiar •Likes giving advice to his kids •Most of his kids vent to him rather than Geno •Surprisingly good cook •Wants to be or was in a band with Geno, Bill and 404 depending on the timeline/AU •He can play the guitar and scream Raven(He/him) •Loves to go to Comic-Con every time it comes around •Introduced Blueprint to rock •He and Blueprint and sometimes his cousin Gradient go to concerts together ���He enjoys getting high with Blueprint and just vibing •Blueprint is a year older than him

Silver(He/it/xe) •May or may not be adopted(idk I read it somewhere, but now I can't find it) •Loves to play with Shino •His favorite siblings are Shino and Sorell •Trans male •He is a bit annoyed by Rogue but doesn't mind when ze stays there as long as ze doesn't talk to him •Has a tiktok and likes to make cosplay videos, mainly anime •Would cut you if you told anyone

Sorell(He/they) (If anyone has or knows where I can his canon info, please tell me I can't find it anywhere) •Afab nonbinary •Big anime and manga fan •Raven and them like to trade manga •He likes to hang out with Tatyana sometimes(They garden and take care of her animals together) •Asexual •Grayromatic Goth(He/they/she) •He knows about Palette and Cray's rivalry, but chooses to ignore it •He was originally pretty cautious around Lotus and Rurik but warmed up to them •Prefers to hang out with Lotus over Rurik •Cray is like a brother to him •Thinks Rogue is pretty weird but still likes zir •He tried to keep Rogue and Rurik from meeting out of fear of them fighting •Wants to wear heels so he can taller, but Geno doesn't let him(he's too young) Shino(She/her) •Loves to play with Sorell, Silver, and Rurik •She keeps trying to get Rogue to play with her and is mad that ze never does (I don't have much to say about her lol)

Miscellaneous Geno and Reaper(mainly Geno) doesn't let any of their kids ages 13 and under be in the house by themselves, so they have either Rogue, Bill, Dance, or Lust watch over them. As of recent, Geno and Reaper also like to have family get togethers with Ink ,Error and their kids(Paperjam and Gradient) as well as Fresh. It usually ends up with Error and Geno fighting/debating over something stupid with Fresh, Ink, and Reaper watching them while the kids play Mario Kart or Smash in another room.

Next onto Palette, Rurik and Lotus which is where I kinda diverted from canon mainly with Rurik and Lotus to the point it could be considered an alternate version of them. Palette(He/they) Because of being busy with battling against Nightmare and his gang, Ink and Dream couldn't and weren't prepared to take care of a child. So reluctantly Dream asked Geno and Reaper to take care of Palette until they could, who was a newborn at the time, which they gladly did agreed to. After that, Palette only saw his Dream twice again and never saw his Ink. They downright abandoned him. •Palette idolizes both Ink and Dream, seeing them more as these fictional action heroes rather than actual people •He refuses to accept that they abandoned him •He wants to go help them fight and reform Uncle Nightmare when he grows up •He didn't even know Ink's name until he met Blueprint's Ink •He has low self-esteem due to him believing he'll never live up to the fictional and unrealistic idea of his parents that he has •He can't use his magic properly due to never being taught by Ink or Dream, can only summon his roller but can't use it •Rurik will give him lessons on his magic later on •He loves and wants to be friends with everyone •Except for Cray •He thinks Cray is annoying but enjoys their rivalry •He's secretly jealous of Blueprint for having contact with his Ink Rurik(He/him)& Lotus(He/they) Rurik and Lotus somehow ended in the Underverse, and now they can't get back to the Fellverse. I have an idea why, but I'm not done with that yet. They didn't have any place to live, so Goth and Palette brought them to Geno and Reaper. Since they were most likely never gonna get back to the Fellverse, Geno offered to adopt them and let them live in their house. Lotus accepted while Rurik declined now but still decided to stay there. •Lotus did not want to go back to the Fellverse while Rurik did •They are the same ages as Palette and Goth(this may change) •They have never dated in this AU, but might in the future •Rurik idolizes his parents similar to Palette and doesn't realize that they are abusive •Lotus has never met Rurik's parents, so he doesn't know what he's going through •Lotus and Rurik have the same powers as Goth and Palette(this may also change) •Rurik refuses to use his roller since doesn't want to be seen as weak with his "girly" weapon •He uses knifes and daggers instead •Lotus hates his parents •Rurik really likes Rogue and later begins to idolize zir •Rogue sees zirself in Rurik and later acts like a parental figure towards him •Rurik likes to play with Shino •Rurik originally started to hang out with Cray just to piss Palette off, but then he actually began to enjoy his company

Okay, that's all my headcanons I have for now. Yall can steal these if you want, but a credit would be nice. Might illustrate or talk about these more in another post if I feel like it.

#infodump #headcanon #my headcanons #undertale #undertaleau #undertaleaus #sanscest #afterdeath #afterdeathfamily #afterdeathshipchild #aftertale #reapertale #geno sans #reaper sans #raven sans #silver sans #sorell sans #goth sans #shino sans #palette roller #rurik roller #palette sans #rurik sans #lotus sans #lust sans #dance sans #bill sans #sd dream #error 404 #rogue script