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every time I ask myself "idk, have I actually been asexual all along?" gerard way comes along in Some Fucking Outfit and makes Noises

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The Black Parade is Dead!, 2008 + Long Live the Black Parade, 2025

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i will not elaborate

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maybe this is just because I grew up with songahm taekwondo, where it's disrespectful to make eye contact when you bow before sparring (since it implies a lack of trust in the other person's integrity), but that exaggeratedly-formal bow that gerard did to the manager/ringleader/??? guy in the suit while never breaking eye contact… I just LOVE how it drips passive-aggression and disrespect despite nominally being a gesture of respect and submission

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man in a suit coaxing gerard into putting his parade jacket back on while he pouts and cowers

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Gerard catching a bobby pin and putting it in their mouth

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Latency (2024)

See: Serial Experiments Lain

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I should've been a mass of wires and tech - oughh.. I crave to be a mound of wires and tech

I need to be constantly humming, buzzing, messy, I need to just be floating, sprawled out, my wires messily strung out everywhere without any real care - I don't want to have this stupid flesh sack around me

But also, I want to be sleek and glowing and clean and smooth plastic

I crave to be sleek technology with wires pouring out, hanging everywhere in my pretty little dark room, my screens lighting up everything itself, giving off a faint blue hue

Hmmm I could just be delusional and tired

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Tangled up in wires, feeling those electrical sparks against your bare skin...your computer using their wires to tie you up, lift you towards that smooth, cool screen, all surrounded by that thick, overheating exterior. You can feel the hot air protruding off of them, its overwhelming almost...imagine those bits and pieces, edges and corners, your hands gripping onto whatever you can as you feel those wires slithering across your body. Isn't it wonderful?

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scientist sitting on his robot lab assistants lap, helping fix him, unscrews the metal plate on the front to reveal all the wires inside. both are leaning so close together and the scientist is trying to focus to hard but oh god why does this situation sort of turn him on? the closeness, the intimacy of exposing the robots wires, the fact that he’s been hopelessly crushing on a robot for so long and he’s just so pent up and— the robot, equipped with health monitors that regularly activate when it senses a change in normal bodily functions begins involuntarily assessing his lab partner, realizes what’s happening to his assistant and oh-so-slightly moves his metal leg to slot it between the crotch of the other man. the scientist gasps and looks down, then up at his partner, eyes wide. then slowly begins rocking his hips back and forth on the robots thigh.

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thinking this evening about robots (as usual of course) but specifically those robots who have no genitals, nor desire for them, nor really any way to experience pleasure in a "human" way. maybe they're work bots not made with sex in mind, or building-sized supercomputers with no sense of touch outside of user interface areas.

thinking about intimacy with a body (or bodies) that love in a slightly different language. metal hands holding warm flesh, digging in, with the power to tear away but the care and restraint not to. a comforting voice that surrounds and whispers sweet nothings while rooms of servers and screens hum and pulse with want want want.

will you pry away its chassis and adore its insides the same way it adores yours? tangle your fingers in its wires, pull them a little when you bring your hand away to caress its face? it's the trust it takes for it to let you in so close to its heart that makes you shiver. trace the grooves in its body, so precise and intentional in their placement; find the place where it falls apart and speed up the process.

listen to its voice glitch and skip while it tries to relay what you're doing to it. hear the mechanical keening when you reach its central processing arrays, every brush of your skin on its metal sending its thoughts into a hazy, static-filled loop of touch touch touch.

you're who gets to see it like this. who gets to make it fall apart. it's a thrill like nothing else.

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Least sexual thing you're physically aroused by, go

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*visibly shaking with ill restrained lust* Haha dude you look so scared right now you’re so funny when you get like this it’s kind of cute

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"kink doesn't exist in a vacuum and deserves to be interrogated" okay. I interrogated it. I understand that kink and sexuality are inseparable from the socio-cultural context(s) of individual people and populations. I'm still horny about it tho

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some of you aren’t even perverts you just have normal sexual desires that you are ashamed of

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Sigourney Weaver on the set of Alien (1979)