#but i am not attracted to them and i have told them as much and it seems fine

[barcaatthemoon]

lover girl || kate martin x reader ||

Kate comes to you needing a little love.

MINORS DNI, 18+, Smut warning.

You had never been with anybody as sweet as Kate Martin. It wasn't your fault, but you seemed to only ever attract womanizers and heartbreakers. For years, you had thought that you could fix them with love and care. Instead, all you had to show for it was heartbreak and despair.

Kate was different. Kate loved you just as much as you loved her, maybe even more. You had never even considered what it would be like to have a partner. Kate wasn't just your girlfriend or someone who you slept with after games. No, Kate Martin was your partner. She loved and cherished you even whenever you weren't doing what she wanted you to.

"Baby?" Kate called out. You had been up in your office finishing up a few things for work. Kate had gone out with some of the girls to play a pick up game at a park with some local kids. You loved that Kate was giving back to the new community who had accepted her as one of their own. Going from Iowa to Vegas was a big move, and you were happy that she had found her footing so easily.

You hadn't moved from Iowa, being a Las Vegas native. You were a friend of friend at first, but you and Kate had quickly hit it off. All it had taken was a bit of prodding from your friends and a night out on the town with Kate to kick off your relationship. The two of you took off running together and never dared to look back, and you were happier for it.

"I know that you were working, and it's honestly kind of late, but…" Kate trailed off as she cleared her throat. You turned around in your desk chair to see Kate looking like a nervous wreck. You pouted as you stood up and walked over towards her.

"Come on, talk to me," you told her. It was gentle prodding, something that you had learned from her. Both of you hated the idea of being a burden, so you were always hesitant to go to one another whenever you needed something.

"It's stupid, you're busy." Kate tried to turn away from you, but you didn't let her. You leaned up on your toes to press a kiss to her cheek. Kate was blushing when you started to pull away, and her arms held you tightly to keep you in close. "What are you working on?"

"Nothing really. I was watching YouTube," you admitted. Kate let out a small chuckle as she glanced back at your desktop. The video you'd been watching was paused, and Kate could see herself on the screen giving an interview. "What can I say? I'm kind of obsessed with you."

"It's okay, I am too." Kate had never shied away from how much she loved you. Your relationship moved fast, but you and Kate were good. Nothing felt rushed, you just enjoyed each other's company, and things just happened to align perfectly for both of you. "So much so that I was wondering if I could steal you away for a little bit?"

"Oh yeah?" you asked. Kate's hand subtly moved from the small of your back to rest on your ass. "What for?"

"I want you. I need to be close to you and feel you. Just for a little while, please. I need a bit of love," Kate said. She seemed close to begging with you, like she'd get on her knees if you asked. Lucky for her, you didn't want that from Kate. You wanted her to be happy, and if you were being honest, you always wanted Kate in that way. It was like an addiction almost, the thought of her taking you to bed every single night sitting in the back of your head during your every waking moment.

"Let's go." You hadn't even finished your sentence before Kate was scooping you into her arms. She carried you all the way from your little office to the bedroom. You wondered what Kate had been doing while you worked in your office. She had been back for maybe an hour or so before she had come to get you. The bed was still pristinely made from when she woke up, so you doubted that she had taken a nap.

"I love you," Kate mumbled against your lips. She placed a few clumsy kisses against your lips, waiting until you grabbed her face to pull her focus in. You tangled your fingers in her hair, tugging it out of the loose ponytail she had thrown it up in after her shower.

The two of you stayed entangled in each other as Kate set you down on the bed. Even as she undressed you, Kate was reluctant to move just half an inch away. She was being clingy, and you absolutely ate it up. You had never been with someone who wanted you so genuinely before, nor had you ever felt the same. There was nothing about Kate to fix, and yet, being with her filled you with a sense of happiness you had never known.

"I love you. I love you. I love you." Kate repeated again and again, each time pressing a kiss to your skin as she did so. She trailed kisses down your body, stopping just below your navel. Your pants were off, tossed somewhere on the ground near the hamper, but Kate had left your underwear on. She stared at you as she waited for you to tell her that she could continue. It didn't matter how comfortable the two of you were with each other, she always waited for you to give her permission when it came to the most vulernable parts of yourself. "Can I, please?"

"You're the only person I ever want to touch me like this," you told her. Kate blushed as she pulled your underwear down. She held eye contact with you, only allowing her eyes to dart down once you had looked away from her. Kate swallowed nervously, just she always did.

"Before I do anything." Kate moved up to give you a kiss before she settled back in between your legs. Your thighs were moved to rest on her shoulders as her arms looped around your hips. Kate was slow and gentle as she decorated the insides of your thighs in kisses. Finally, when you felt like you were on the verge of begging and pleading for more, Kate's lips pressed a kiss to your cunt.

Kate's fingers gently spread you open, revealing you to her completely. You threaded your fingers in Kate's hair, not pushing or pulling her in any direction. Her hands were busy, and you just wanted to holding onto her. Kate understood this, and let the fingers on her free hand move back and forth against your stomach.

You took deep breaths, matching the slow strokes of Kate's tongue. She was just trying to taste you. It wasn't about getting you off just yet, you still had a little ways to go until you got desperate. This was Kate's favorite part of things, when the two of you could just exist in this intimate space without any sort of push or pull going on.

"Fuck Kate, that feels so good," you moaned. Kate hummed her thanks as she brought her fingers up to rub against your clit. Your hips bucked forward, grinding against her fingers as her tongue lapped lazily at your entrance. Every drop of your arousal that she could get, Kate took. The strokes of her tongue began to grow feverish, and you knew that Kate was close to switching positions on you.

Her tongue replaced her fingers, and the two fingers that had been rubbing your clit were pushed inside of you. Kate let you move on her fingers, setting the rhythm and pace for her. She was quick to match your pace, long fingers grazing every spot you could have wanted her to in the process. Kate was good at what she did in every aspect of life, so you weren't embarrassed to come crashing down around her fingers so quickly.

Kate gently guided you through your orgasm. You felt light and airy, like the only thing keeping you from floating away was Kate's body on top of yours. She had pushed your legs from her shoulders, and now rested on top of you. Your hands were still in her hair, just barely scratching at her scalp. Kate was staring up at you when you finally glanced down at her, but you had no clue how long she'd been watching you for.

"Hi." Kate's smile was bright as she turned and pressed a kiss between your hips. She rolled completely onto her stomach and began to move higher up onto the bed. Now, it was your turn to lay against Kate as she opened her arms for you. "Shh, rest easy babe."

"Don't you-,"

"No, this was all I wanted. It's late. We can revisit this tomorrow when I get back from practice," Kate told you. You glanced over at the alarm clock, and she was right. Kate's practices for the next two weeks were all early ones, and it was nearly midnight already. "Do you need me to get you anything?"

"I'm fine. I can do it myself," you told her. Kate may have let you get up, but she still followed you around like a puppy. It was sweet how she still tried helping even with the easiest of tasks. You wanted her to get back in bed, but Kate didn't end up going back until you were comfortably tucked in beside her.

[paper-mario-wiki]

I feel like I've ended up in the same spot as so transmasc before me: I have a lovely cis boyfriend who loves my tits which I love for him, but I am getting dysphoric to the point I wanna lift my lips and show a lil teeth when I see his hands coming towards them. Feels bad because they are his favorite and we haven't been fucking as much because as soon as he starts touching me I am out of it™ and get all in my head and freeze up. Any advice?

good god, brother. i am utterly baffled at why you have elected me as the strategist for this problem, and i'm even more confused as to why you have chosen to go into as much detail as you have.

but.

if i were to give you some advice on this

i'd say that you should consider a conversation with your partner about the long-term plan for the relationship. a "relationship" is two lives that are connected, right? and your life is not one where you're gonna have boobs for the rest of it (or at least based on what you've told me i would assume, should you have your way, those bad boys are gettin lopped off at some point), therefore it's pertinent that it be brought up, because it concerns your life, therefore it concerns the relationship, therefore it concerns him, yes?

now, the first and most obvious thing to start with out the gate is the boundary, made clear and concise: the hills are now closed, off limits to tourists. all discussions regarding this come next. make it clear that it's about something quite core to your identity, and something that does in fact cause physical pain (a panic response from the nervous system is pain homie).

this brings some followup questions (and remember, this isn't an interrogation, it's a dialogue to share): how does he feel about this? if he's against, why? for that matter, how much does it bother him? is there something he doesn't understand about your discomfort? is there some concern he has about your financial or bodily well-being with regards to the procedure? is it because it's vital to his attraction to you as a partner? if that's the case, would their removal be a deal-breaker?

now keep in mind, these question can be brought up whether or not you've got immediate plans to engage in the aforementioned lopping-off of your aforementioned Bad Boys, because the actual point of this dialectical exercise is to create a simple, easy to navigate, easy to understand conversation, which will set a foundation for further negotiations-- should you learn something new about each other, or yourselves, or the relationship as a whole.

either way, i do not think that letting it keep happening and keeping it to yourself is a good idea. i can understand feeling guilty about withholding some physical and emotional gratification you could give "easily" to this person you care dearly for, but trust me when i say that it's not the way to let it be. not just because it's unfair to your partner to secretly grow to resent them for a reason you don't want to vocalize, but to yourself as well.

you may not know it, but by keeping it to yourself you're slowly building up a resentment. that frustration actually shows up pretty clearly in your message. and even if what you're frustrated about is only that particular activity, that activity is irrevocably tied to another person. specifically, a person that you consider to be a pretty central pillar in your life. if that resentment grows, it can evolve into anger, hatred, fear, paranoia, and all sorts of nasty things. and even aside from the emotional and psychological damage that can do, it can grow into a physiological issue, where your brain wears out more and more due to the growing emotional distress ripping through your neurons with all sorts of "emergency" chemicals. like i said, the panic response is a physical pain, even if your body doesn't feel like it "hurts".

so. to summarize.

ABSOLUTELY bring it up. if you don't, it could become damaging to your relationship, and also your actual real life physical brain.

when you do bring it up, remember that the goals are to set a boundary, and to reach an understanding through mutual conversation. it's a dialogue, not a lecture.

when you reach an understanding, figure out if the relationship needs to be renegotiated in some way. that usually means new boundaries, or expectations. or maybe nothing! though surely your boyfriend can find more things to love about you.

that's as best as i can muster. you don't have to follow it, but hopefully it'll at least give you some ideas you can use.

[tetsuissohot]

Toji Fushijuro ONESHOT part II

☆summary. "I'll think about it" that's what she said. But she could think about it now, right? As Y/N tries to leave their tense encounter behind, Toji isn’t ready to let her go. Stopping her in her tracks, he pulls her into a heated and desperate moment that reignites the fire between them. The intensity of their unresolved attraction and buried emotions rises to the surface.

☆warning/tags: 18+ fem!reader, casual, SFW, building up tention, ex's to lovers?, part 2

☆word count: 6.2k

☆a/n: This is part 2! I hope you enjoy it. This section contains some sexual tension and intimate moments (kissing), but there are no explicit sexual scenes. If I decide to write a part 3, it may include sexual content, but this part does not.

Please note that English is not my first language, and I am also dyslexic, so there may be some mistakes. However, I do my best to minimize them.

part 1

The dim light of the bar cast shadows across Toji’s face as he watched Y/N carefully. Her words—I’ll think about it—echoed in his mind, but the way she looked at him made it impossible for him to ignore the tension between them. It had always been like this with her: every conversation felt like a game of tug-of-war, every look a challenge, and every touch an invitation.

Toji’s hand rested on top of hers, his thumb lazily brushing circles against her skin. Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest, her pulse quickening at the contact. She couldn’t deny that being this close to him again stirred something deep inside her—something she had tried to bury after their breakup.

“You sure you don’t want to make that decision tonight?” His voice was low, a soft rumble that carried far more meaning than the words alone.

she couldn’t sit here any longer. The intensity in his eyes, the heat of his touch—it was all too much. If she stayed, she wasn’t sure she could keep her resolve. With a deep breath, she slowly withdrew her hand from his and stood up from the table, trying to steady herself.

“I need to go,” Y/N muttered, more to herself than to him.

She turned, ready to leave the bar and escape the chaos of emotions swirling inside her, but she didn’t make it far. Before she could take another step, Toji’s hand shot out and caught her wrist, his grip firm but gentle.

“Don’t,” he said, his voice low, almost pleading. He rose from his seat, the chair scraping softly against the floor as he stood, towering over her.

Y/N froze, her heart racing as his fingers wrapped around her wrist. She could feel the warmth of his skin seeping into hers, the same familiar heat she had once craved. Her body betrayed her, responding to his touch before her mind could catch up.

“Toji…” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly as she looked up at him.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, just stood there, his grip still firm but not forceful. His eyes darkened with a mix of emotions—desire, regret, and something deeper that she couldn’t quite place. He stepped closer, closing the gap between them, his other hand moving to cup the side of her face.

Y/N’s breath hitched as his thumb brushed gently along her cheek, the intimate gesture making her knees weak. She tried to pull away again, but Toji was having none of it.

“You really think you can walk away from this?” he asked, his voice a low growl as he leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear. “From us?” his voice rougher now “I can’t stop thinking about you, Y/N... And I don’t think I want to.”

Her pulse quickened at the sound of his voice, her body reacting instinctively to his proximity. She hated how easily he could undo her, how a single touch could make her forget all the reasons she’d left him in the first place.

“I’m trying to,” she breathed, her voice faltering as she felt the heat of his breath against her skin. “I have to.”

But her body told a different story. She didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned into him, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as if she needed to steady herself.

Toji’s lips ghosted over the side of her neck, teasing but not quite touching, and Y/N felt the tension between them rise to a fever pitch. The electricity in the air was undeniable, a spark that had never really gone out, only hidden beneath layers of anger and regret.

“Toji…” she started, but before she could finish, he turned her around in one swift motion, pressing her back against the wall behind them.

His hand slid from her wrist to her waist, his grip tightening as he pinned her there, his body flush against hers. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, and Y/N could feel the strength in him—the raw power that had always both attracted and terrified her.

His eyes bore into hers, intense and filled with desire. “You can’t tell me you don’t still feel it,” he said, his voice rough, barely containing the fire simmering beneath the surface. “I want you back, Y/N,” he said, full of need. “And I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen.”

Y/N swallowed hard, her heart hammering in her chest. She could feel the heat radiating from him, the weight of his gaze, the way his body pressed against hers. Every nerve in her body screamed at her to give in, to stop fighting and just let herself feel.

And when Toji finally closed the distance, his lips capturing hers in a fierce, desperate kiss, It wasn’t soft or gentle, Y/N found herself doing exactly that. She kissed him back just as hard, her hands sliding up to grip his shoulders, pulling him closer.

The kiss was all fire and frustration, the pent-up longing from months of separation pouring out in waves. Toji’s hand moved up her side, slipping beneath her shirt to rest on the bare skin of her back, his touch igniting a fire inside her. She moaned softly into the kiss, her body arching toward him instinctively.

Toji growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating against her lips as he deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing hers. His hand moved higher, fingers tracing the curve of her spine before pulling her closer, pressing her even tighter against the wall. Every part of him was solid, strong, and overwhelming, just like he always had been.

Y/N’s mind spun, her thoughts a blur as the intensity of the moment consumed her. She knew she should stop, knew this wasn’t just about lust—it was about the years of history, the pain, the longing. But it was impossible to pull away when every fiber of her being wanted him.

“Toji…” she gasped, breaking the kiss for just a moment to catch her breath. Her hands fisted into his shirt, holding onto him as if he were the only thing keeping her steady.

He didn’t let her finish, his lips trailing down the side of her neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His breath was hot against her skin, his teeth grazing lightly along her collarbone, making her shudder.

“You think I’m letting you go again?” he murmured, his voice rough and full of raw need. His hand slid lower, gripping her waist possessively. “Not a chance.”

Y/N’s body responded to his words before her mind could process them. She tilted her head back, giving him more access as his lips moved against her neck, her fingers digging into his shoulders. Every part of her was on fire, the heat between them threatening to consume them both.

But somewhere, in the back of her mind, a small voice reminded her of the risk. The last time they had been like this, it had ended in heartbreak. Could she trust him again? Could she trust herself?

“Toji…” she whispered, her voice trembling with the weight of the emotions swirling inside her. She didn’t want to stop, but she couldn’t shake the fear that came with letting him back in.

He pulled back slightly, his lips hovering over hers, their breaths mingling in the small space between them. His eyes softened, the intensity still there but laced with something deeper—something she hadn’t seen before.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, his voice softer now, filled with a sincerity that took her off guard. “I swear.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at his words. For the first time, she saw the vulnerability beneath the tough exterior, the man behind the fighter. And in that moment, she realized that maybe, just maybe, he meant it.

She looked up at him, her lips swollen from the kiss, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. She didn’t have the answers, didn’t know if she could truly trust him again. But as she gazed into his eyes, she knew one thing for certain—this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

And maybe that was enough for now.

[hellcheeriest]

i bet hes never had a backstreet guy

Twitch Streamer!Eddie x Single Father!Steve

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: Steve and Dustin arrive at the convention, Steve finds Eddie more attractive in person, Eddie finds Steve attractive in general, Robin and Chrissy begin to figure some things out.

Content warnings: Slight age gap (Steve is 31, Eddie is 26) Steve feels as though he's too old to be acting like he is (I know 31 isn't old! Steve just grew up too fast as a teen dad, so he feels like his mind is beyond his years.) light angst, smoking, swearing, flirting

A/N: hey team.... lol. so sorry for the wait! now i wrote this between the hours of 2-4am (as i am uploading it is 4:10) so i apologize for any mistakes! Thank you for reading!

W/C:4.6k

STEVE HARRINGTON

“Dustin! Slow down!” Steve called out. His son had already made it halfway across the parking lot, practically sprinting to the doors.

“Come on Dad!” Dustin turned around and let his dad catch up. He grabbed the elder's hand, pulling him along.

“Okay, Okay!” Steve kept a tight hold on Dustin's hand. He’d done his research on convention etiquette and came across an article about adults losing their children and he told himself he’d be completely sure of where Dustin was at all times. The backpack he donned was filled with multiple water bottles, and his wallet had both cash and his debit and credit cards in case of any financial emergency.

They’d gotten there much earlier than they needed to, but with Steve’s anxiety and Dustin’s exhilaration, neither of them minded having to wait around until they opened the doors for the panel. Dustin talked Steve’s ear off, rambling about anything and everything related to the convention.

Steve fiddled with the tag on the lanyard he and Dustin were given upon entry, and he finally realised the reality of the scenario. Soon, he’d be in a room with not only a hundred other people, but the man he’d been pining for in secret for the past who knows how long. He was brought out of his thoughts by Dustin tugging on his sleeve.

The two filed into the large room along with a bunch of other people, and Steve’s grip on Dustin’s arm was probably tighter than it should’ve been as they found their way to an open pair of seats. The group that Steve had paid an exorbitant amount of money to see would be taking the stage soon, and Steve could feel his son practically vibrating next to him.

“You sure you’re gonna make it through this without exploding?” Steve asked and Dustin nodded.

“I have to!” Dustin exclaimed and Steve laughed, putting a hand on his son's head, twisting his fingers into his curls. Dustin wore a bright yellow sweater Steve recognized as his own, and the smile he wore was brighter than Steve had seen in a while. More people would pour into the room, and the multiple conversations would be overwhelming if Steve wasn’t focused on the way the lights dimmed and a woman walked on stage.

“Good afternoon, everyone!” She called into the microphone. The voices around quieted, and Steve tensed in his seat. “My name is Tory, and I will be hosting the event we’ve all come out here for. So, what do you say we get our guests up here and get this thing started?” The audience cheered and the streamers came on stage one by one before walking to their respective seats. A guy with dirty blond curls led the way up the stage, introduced as ‘Gareth,’ and the rest followed in. There was Austin, Chrissy (who Steve recognized from the singular stream he’d watched), Robin and Jeff. They all seemed to notice at the same time as the audience that Eddie wasn’t trailing behind them. After a moment, the applause faded and Gareth sighed into the microphone in front of him.

“This asshole.” The audience laughed, and only a moment later did Eddie shuffle on stage. Clapping and cheering surrounded Steve, but he could hardly hear it as his eyes focussed on Eddie’s form. 

It was different to seeing him through a TV screen, and he wasn’t sure how Eddie could get any more attractive. His hair was loose, reaching down past his collarbones. It was curly, and wild, and free. He wore a pair of black skinny jeans, torn at the knees and thighs, chains hanging from two of his belt loops. His shirt was looser, the white fabric clashing with the black of the tattoo’s that spread down both of  his arms, and had graphic text of a band name Steve could vaguely recall. He could feel Dustin’s grip on his arm as he too watched in awe, although for a completely different reason. Eddie finally reached his chair, taking a theatrical bow before sitting down. 

“I love you, Eddie!” Someone called from farther back in the room. Eddie’s eyebrows raised and he smiled.

“Woah,” He spoke into his microphone, pulling a piece of his hair over his mouth. “Love you too.” Part of the audience cheered and Eddie leaned away from his microphone.

“Stop flirting with the audience, man.” Gareth scolded half-heartedly and Eddie returned his words with a raised middle finger, sparking genuine laughter from Gareth.

“So!” Tory spoke, cutting off the pair's bickering. Let's start off with a few games, yeah?”

About half an hour and a couple of games later, they’d finally reached the question portion of the panel. Tory explained that they would start off with submitted questions and then move to having a few audience members ask their own. Pulling out a clipboard, presumably the clipboard that held the predetermined questions, Tory smiled.

“Alright! First question is from ‘Hellfire’, with an ‘i’ on Twitter. It reads, ‘Robin when did you first realise you were a lesbian?’” Robin smiled and thought for a quick moment before answering. 

“Well, I think I've always known, you know? Like, I never had actual crushes on boys in school and I remember asking myself why I couldn't like girls like the boys liked girls. But then after I got older and learned the queer people existed, and what each label meant, is when I really was able to realise who I am.” Robin rambled, and Steve couldn’t help but smile. The audience gave her claps and snaps and cheers of encouragement.

“Beautifully said, Robin! Our next question is for Austin-” The voice of the host faded away as Steve zeroed in on Eddie once again. He was resting his chin on his pale hand, chunky rings and bands covered his fingers and chipped black nail polish was painted messily on his nails. Even from where they sat, Steve could see the way the corner of Eddie’s eyes crinkled when he smiled, smile lines and dimples on his cheeks accompanying the grin that blessed Eddie's face. The purple and yellow lighting gave his hair and skin a glow that Steve found terribly alluring. He wasn't sure how much time had passed, getting lost in the bright baritone of Eddie’s voice as it mixed in with the others, studying the man before him as if he’d be tested afterwards. He only came back to reality when Eddie’s chuckle crackled through the microphone, but he couldn’t bring himself to actually tune into the words being said.

Soon, the pre-submitted questions had dwindled and after the last few had been asked they moved to having audience members voice their own queries. The audience questions were less organised, many asking about mundane attributes such as favourite meals or shows while others were completely obscure and had the panel struggling to answer.

“Well, we have time for just one more question from the audience.” And before Steve knew it, his son’s hand was shooting up. “Alright, you in the yellow, back there!” A smile spread across Dustin’s face as he stood and made his way to the microphone placed in the aisle between seats.

“So,” Dustin began nervously. Steve watched as he fiddled with his fingers, a nervous tick he’d developed. “Uh, my question is for Eddie?”

“Shoot, little man.” Eddie smiled, warm and welcoming, and Steve tried to swallow the lump in his throat.

"Ah, um. So, you talk about how school was for you quite often and I wanted to know how exactly you overcame all the uh, the name calling and everything?" Dustin was stuttering through a few words and Steve wanted nothing more than to go over and rub his boy's back. He could do that when Dustin returned. Eddie's face softened and he started to fiddle with the rings that Steve wondered always riddled his fingers.

"Yeah. So for anyone who doesn't watch me that often, I do streams where I talk about my unfortunate middle school and high school years to kind of-- shed light on what it's like for kids who were and are like me," Eddie started. "Uh I was called names," He moved a hand in Dustin's direction. "Messed with physically, all that. As for your question, I think I just started to realise that I'm not what any of those assholes say I am. That they can't push me around anymore.

Obviously, things might work differently for other people but that's what worked for me personally. Plus I was held back a couple of years so my bullies were out of my school life and I was able to be who I am." A few people from the crowd clapped, egging on the rest. Dustin beamed at Eddie's response.

"Thank you," Was the last thing Dustin said before he stepped away from the microphone and back to his seat beside his father.

"How was that?" Steve asked his son who was practically vibrating in his chair.

“That was so cool!” Dustin whispered and Steve smiled. Little did he know how cool it was going to get.

“Who knew you were such a poet, Eddie?” Tory asked and Eddie laughed and shook his head.

“Well, I am a songwriter so I'm technically halfway there.” He shrugged as if it were no big deal.

“That sounds about right.” Tory spoke over the few cheers that broke out. “Well, folks. That’s the end of our time here. Give it up for our wonderful guests!” Applause roared throughout the room as the panel stood and waved to the audience as they left. Steve felt like he could breathe again. He held Dustin close as they made their way outside, just as he had on the way in, and once the warm sun fell on their skin Steve took the backpack off his shoulders and pulled out a few granola bars and bottles of water. Steve spoke again after a few minutes.

“I have a surprise for you.” He stated as he zipped the backpack up, slinging it over his shoulder.

“Really?” Dustin asked from his seat on the concrete curb. “What is it?”

“Can’t tell you. But, we have to be there in the next fifteen minutes so we should make our way over there.” Steve pointed to his watch as Dustin stood up. The boy was obviously starting to grow tired, though the afternoon sun shining in the sky should mean he should still be energised. He tired easily, Steve found, and between the fact Steve knew Dustin didn't get much sleep the night prior and the amount of excitement that filled the boy, Steve was surprised he hadn't crashed yet.

“Lead the way, father dearest.” Dustin said, mustering up as much enthusiasm as he could. That was okay, he’d be truly enthusiastic soon.

EDDIE MUNSON

Eddie thanked any god that was out there for the short break he and his friends were given after the panel. It was so much fun being able to talk to his fans, though he found it unfortunate that it was by way of him being on a stage. A specific boy who asked a question stuck out to him. Surprisingly over the others who shouted compliments or "I love you's" at him. Yep. Just a young boy in a large yellow sweatshirt, probably in his middle school or early high school years asking how he overcame the bullying. Eddie swore it almost done broke his heart.

He took a swig of his bottled water and ate a few pieces of the slightly stale pizza that sat in the small room he and his friends were provided. Eddie popped the tape out of his walkman to flip it around. He closed the lid, and pressed down the play button, letting the sound of his mixtape fill his ear through the single earbud he had in.

Wayne had poked fun at him when he bought it. ‘You tryna be old-school or somethin’?’ He’d said as he rubbed his knuckles into his nephew's scalp. Eddie missed his uncle, and couldn't wait to go see the man someday soon.

"I'm so excited to go meet everyone!" Chrissy gushed. She sat on the loveseat, Robin next to her. 

Haha, get it?

"I'm just happy I get to be with you, Chris. I don't know how I would handle everyone by myself." Robin smiled sheepishly. God, Eddie was gonna barf if Robin kept this up. How could two people be so clueless?

Literally, just ask her out already you idiot.

"I'm gonna make my way over to where I gotta be. Good luck, girls." Eddie clipped his walkman onto his jeans waistline and shot finger guns at the two.

"Good luck, Eddie!" Chrissy jumped up to hug him and over her shoulder, Eddie winked at Robin. Robin returned a shy look as Chrissy pulled away.

"Bye, Eddie," Robin mumbled and Eddie huffed humorously before leaving and shutting the door behind him. He took a deep breath, and finally started to make his way to the next phase of completing this con.

-

It had been about half an hour of meeting fans, taking photos, and receiving small trinkets from crafty fans that he graciously took and thanked their makers. He wasn’t sure of the last time he’d felt so appreciated.

"I love you!" A fan said as they waved each other off.

"I love you too," Eddie would return those words multiple times, and each time he meant it. The photographer called for the next people in line. The next thing he knew, a familiar flash of yellow entered his vision and he recognized the owner of a mop of brown, curly locks. Eddie grinned. Then he noticed the figure following the young man. He was tall, and broad, and also had a mop of brown hair on the top of his head. His hair was not curly like the boy he was with.

Wow, okay.

"Hey, little man!" Eddie brought back the nickname from earlier as the boy tucked himself into Eddie's side, the other man standing just behind his son and in turn behind Eddie.

"Hi!" Yellow shirt was ecstatic and Eddie hugged the boy back. Eddie took a quick look over his shoulder at the slightly taller man, blinking him a greeting and receiving a nod in return. Eddie was sure he’d never seen someone so handsome.

Handsome. He couldn't believe he was using that word, but matched completely with what he was seeing. Broad shoulders, swoopy hair, and shiny eyes. Freckles, straight white teeth and a warmth that radiated off of his body. Eddie wanted to lean into it, always feeling so cold. This guy totally would’ve bullied him in school. But, here he was, not a malicious gilt in his eye.

Maybe Eddie wasn’t as over high school as he thought.

"Three, two, one." The photographer counted down before the flash struck, capturing the image. The youngest started to move and Eddie grabbed onto his shoulders.

"Hey," He started and the boy's confused eyes met Eddies. "Just wanted to remind you of how awesome you are." Eddie's smile was as soft as his eyes were and the latter's eyes widened. The photographer shouted out, trying to keep the momentum, and Eddie wished the boy farewell, giving one last look to the other man. The latter looked back at him, his expression was unreadable, but devastatingly attractive. The two left and Eddie continued on with the now shorter line of people left.

CHRISSY CUNNINGHAM

Chrissy sighed as she lay down on the loveseat in the group's room. Taking photos and meeting fans personally was super fun, but also very tiring. Robin was going to return soon. She had just left to grab a couple more bottles of water since she and Rob had finished theirs and the only one in the room was Eddie’s and frankly, she did not want to ingest whatever that man's mouth touches. (It was mostly cigarettes, that's all she knew.)

Her mind wandered back to Robin. Chrissy rested her head on the small pillow that sat in the corner of the cushions, almost wishing it was Robin's chest she were resting on instead.

Wait, what? She couldn't think of her best friend like this, could she? 

She couldn’t help but realise she thought this way a lot. What would Robin think? Yeah, she was a lesbian, but that doesn't mean she's interested in just any girl who comes along. Plus, she's Robin's best friend. Keyword, friend. There's no way Robin likes her in any other way than platonically. What would Robin think? Would she hate Chrissy? Her thoughts were cut short when the taller girl burst through the door, Eddie and the rest of the guys following.

"Guys you will never believe this. That one kid that asked that really deep question to me, came to my booth and I think he was there with his dad or something. Anyway the dad, or whatever, was like, super fucking hot--" Eddie's voice trailed off. Chrissy wanted to pay attention to Eddie's rambling, she did, but she had too much to think about right now.

"Hey," Robin's voice cut into Chrissy's thoughts from her spot on the floor next to the loveseat. As much as she loved to hear Robin speak, it was currently the last thing she wanted to hear "You okay?" 

"Yeah, 'm just tired 's all," Chrissy mumbled. Robin looked skeptical before nodding and sending Chrissy a sympathetic look.

-

Chrissy ended up going back to the hotel early while everyone else stayed back a bit longer before they left for a restaurant for a celebratory dinner. Robin offered to stay with her, but Chrissy waved her off and told her to have fun with the guys. Robin promised to bring her back some leftovers and let her know she hopes Chrissy feels better. Chrissy smiled weakly before Robin would leave and Chrissy would change into a tank top and shorts and slip into the sheets of the bed she would have to share with the girl she was currently struggling over tonight.

She felt herself tear up.

Why did this have to be so hard? Why did this have to happen now and not in like, high school? She couldn't be having a sexuality crisis right now, not while they were supposed to be having fun at the convention for the next couple of days. Chrissy was scared of rejection, she admitted to herself. Not having feelings bigger than their current friendship, but the idea that she tells Robin these feelings and Robin rejects her and never speaks to her again and--

The tears slid down her cheeks and Chrissy wiped them away.

It was no use though when the last tears would be replaced quickly.

STEVE HARRINGTON

Music quietly played through the speakers of Steve's car. He had placed an order for pickup at his and Dustin's favourite restaurant and they were on their way to go get it. Steve was starving and Dustin was on his way to falling asleep in the passenger seat. After another couple more minutes, they finally arrived at the place and Steve softly nudged Dustin's shoulder.

"I'll be right back, 'kay? Just grabbing the food." He said quietly. Dustin nodded and Steve took that as acknowledgment. He got out of the car and went inside, waiting for a staff member. Someone quickly arrived. Steve told them his business and his name and in return, he earned a big  warm paper bag that would be filled with the dinner. Steve thanked the person who helped him and he walked out of the door and made his way back to his car.

Until he saw a cloud of smoke from where the end of the small parking lot and the wall of the building met. There stood a man who he recognized all too well.

This was stupid. Steve was stupid.

Still, Steve walked over to the other who still wasn't made known of his presence.

"Hey," Steve greeted as he got closer. The long-haired man turned his head, blowing out another cloud of smoke. He tilted his head curiously before he spoke.

"Hi," Eddie said before he dropped his cigarette and stepped on it. "You're the guy that came in with the kid in the yellow, right?" Steve nodded, ignoring how his heart stuttered at the fact he was recognized.

"Yeah, he's my son. I wanted to thank you for what you said to him," Steve began, fiddling with the handle of the paper bag. "He's been having some issues at school. Says watching your videos and stuff makes him feel better." Eddie smiled and rocked back and forth on his feet.

"Nah," He put his cheek to his shoulder and his hands in the pocket of his hoodie. "Sucks that shits happening to him. Looks like times haven't changed, huh?" Steve sighed and pursed his lips in a silent apology. "What's your name, pretty boy?" Eddie asked. Steve laughed and shook his head lightly as blood rushed to his face. God, he hadn’t felt like this in ages.

"Steve," He answered. Eddie stepped forward, leaving limited space between the two. Steve blinked, his legs feeling as though they were full of lead.

"Well, Steve." Eddie pulled something out of his pocket before reaching his arm through the space of Steve's arm and torso, slipping whatever was in his hand into the back pocket of Steve's jeans. He let his hand stay there a second, eyes not reaching Steve's, but rather trailing over each feature on his face. After what felt like forever, Eddie removed his hand. He patted Steve's hip. "An… Offer. If you want it." Eddie stared up at Steve through his eyelashes. Their height difference wasn't much, but it was enough for Eddie to have to turn his eyes upwards.

Eddie took a step back. Steve sighed.

"I have to return to my friends. They're probably wondering where I am." He took one last look, up and down, at Steve. "Hope that serves you well," Eddie smirked before he turned around and walked back towards the entrance of the restaurant.

Steve froze for a second before he reached into the pocket, still warm from Eddie's hand. He pulled out what the other had put in. It was a wad of paper. Confused, Steve unrolled it. There he found digits scribbled. Eddie had given him his number.

ROBIN BUCKLEY

"Night, Ed! Night Austin!" Robin called from down the hallway, receiving a couple of grumbled replies. She giggled to herself before she continued her way to her room. She got to the door, pulled out her key and let herself inside. There she found minimal lighting and a mound under the covers of the bed, some strawberry blonde hair peeking out from the top. 

Robin shut the door as she sympathetically sighed. She put the pasta she'd saved for Chrissy, her favourite, on the vanity and quietly made her way over to Chrissy's side of the bed. Robin put a gentle hand on Chrissy's exposed shoulder.

"Chris? You awake?" She mumbled quietly. No response. Chrissy's cheeks were stained with tears and Robin bit her cheek. Why had Chrissy been crying? She wasn't feeling too good, Robin knew, but what had made her cry? She pushed Chrissy's hair behind her ear and stayed there for a moment before returning to the door where she took off her shoes and coat, accidentally knocking Chrissy's coat off of the hanger. It was a quiet sound, but still, Chrissy awoke.

"Robin?" She yawned as she sat up and turned to where the other was standing.

"Y-yeah. Sorry for waking you," Robin's apology was soft as she picked up the smaller coat. She paused for a moment after hanging it back up. "Chris? Were you... Crying?" Robin moved back towards the bed. She was never the best at this type of stuff. She never knew how to help people feel better, oftentimes she felt useless in these situations. But, her best friend was hurting, and she needed to try.

"No! Uh..." Chrissy pulled her knees to her chest before huffing defeatedly. "Yeah,"

"How come?" Robin sat down and shuffled closer to Chrissy, putting an arm around her waist and pulling her into a side hug. "You okay?" Chrissy sniffled and shook her head. "What's wrong?"

"Can't tell you." Chrissy put her forehead to her knees. "You'll hate me." Robin ran her hand along the shorter girl's back.

"I won't hate you, Chris. I could never hate you. I'm your best friend, you can tell me anything." Robin was even more concerned. Throughout the years Robin had known her, she’d never seen Chrissy this way, so full of self depreciation. The only time that had come close was just after her ex-boyfriend, Jason, broke up with her. But even then, she seemed more relieved than upset. Whatever was bugging her had to be serious. Chrissy was silent for a moment, the only sound in the room being the friction of Robin's hand on Chrissy's tank top.

"I think I like girls," Chrissy said. Robin's jaw almost dropped before she went to console her friend.

"Well, Chris, you know I'm a lesbian. Why would you think I’d-"

"I think I like you." Chrissy whimpered.

Oh.

"Chrissy... You're serious? You're not playing with me, right? Because this has happened before where a girl tells me they like me as a joke, or they think they like girls and want to use me as, like, the test to find out if they really do, and then turn around and--"

"I'm serious Rob, I just..." Chrissy let tears roll down her face once again and Robin unconsciously let herself wipe them away. "This is all so new to me and you're my best friend and I don't know how to feel." Robin frowned. She remembered her sexuality crisis in grade eight and how hard it was for her. She felt for Chrissy at this moment. Carefully she turned Chrissy around and pulled her onto her lap, grabbing the hands that covered the latter's face and moving them away. Robin smiled gently as she spoke.

"Hey," She started with. "It'll be okay, Chrissy. Trust me. It's hard for a while, I know." Robin brought Chrissy's head to her shoulder. They were silent for a moment until. "I like you too," Robin whispered. Chrissy gasped and pulled back, staring at Robin with surprise.

"You-- You do?" She gasped, staring up at Robin with big eyes. Robin took Chrissy's face into her hands pulling her in to leave a kiss on her forehead. Chrissy was a light shade of pink and less upset than before.

"I do. I have for a long time." Robin laughs. Chrissy smiles and lays her head back on Robin's shoulder. They stay there for a few minutes before it seems like Chrissy's about to fall asleep. Robin carefully took Chrissy out of her lap and laid her on the bed. "We'll talk about this in the morning, 'kay?" She said softly. Chrissy nodded and Robin smiled fondly. "I'll be right back." She pulled the blankets back over Chrissy's half-conscious body and she left to the bathroom before pulling out her phone.

Me

guess who might have a chance at getting a girlfriend

eddie help me

After a few minutes, Eddie didn't reply. He must be sleeping, Robin thought.

When actually, Eddie was up making a few text messages of his own.

tags:

@marklee-blackmore

[the-togepi-man]

hi 👋 have you ever had sex with a guy who most of society would consider as "not hot"? by that i mean, instead of perfect six-pack abs, he has a protruding belly. or instead of a towering six-footer dude, he's like several inches shorter than you?

Edited again for clarity: I've had sex with quite a few folks that have told me they thought they were unattractive. But bellies and being short aren't unattractive. If they were, I'd be an ugly son of a gun. And guess what, I still think that about myself a lot of days I had sex with a guy once who was shredded and handsome and looked amazing- and I couldn't finish. They can be pretty to look at but at the end of the day it turns out I'm attracted to who I am attracted to which also includes personality. And while I don't like me that much, I think I got incredibly lucky with the folks who I like, one of which who likes me back. Which is to say society probably finds them attractive, but I am short, hairy, and with a belly but here they are- Both incredibly handsome to me, caring- multi-faceted personalities, amazing smiles, beautiful eyes, fun laughs, ect. , I'd argue that given Sean and the other person I like, my type varies, as Sean is barely an inch taller than me, and arguably none of us have six packs. And yet here I am, fully infatuated. I would never EVER classify them as unattractive

Which is to say what matters most to me, is that I like the person while having sex with them. Which is why I have such a hard time bottoming for hookups

[literaryvein-reblogs]

The Censorship of Books by Virginia Woolf

An essay published in the journal "Nineteenth Century and After" (April 1929) as part of a symposium on censorship.

As the law stands at present, a police magistrate has the right to destroy as obscene any book which he thinks likely to corrupt the mind of any reader who is liable to be corrupted.

If it is advisable to entrust anyone with such power – of which I am doubtful – obviously the time has come when the nature of what is corrupting and thus destroyable must be more clearly defined.

Nor is it difficult to suggest what lines that definition should follow.

There can be no doubt that books fall, in respect of indecency, into two classes.

There are books written, published and sold with the object of causing pleasure or corruption by means of their indecency.

There is no difficulty in finding where they are to be bought, nor in buying them when found.

There are others whose indecency is not the object of the book, but incidental to some other purpose – scientific, social, aesthetic – on the writer’s part.

The police magistrate’s power should be definitely limited to the suppression of books which are sold as pornography to people who seek out and enjoy pornography.

The others should be left alone.

Any man or woman of average intelligence and culture knows the difference between the two kinds of book and has no difficulty in distinguishing one from the other. 

No can any reasonable person doubt, after watching the law as it stands at work, that it causes more harm than it prevents.

The average citizen is nowadays certainly a reader and quite frequently a writer.

In both capacities he is injured, annoyed, and possibly corrupted, by the censorship as exercised at present.

Nothing can be more insulting to his intelligence and exciting to his curiosity than to be told there is a book that he must not read because in the opinion of somebody else it would corrupt him to do so.

As was amply proved last autumn [Woolf is referring to the suppression of Radclyffe Hall’s novel, The Well of Loneliness, in 1928.], prohibition often serves only to stimulate the appetite.

Discussion is roused where there would have been indifference; knowledge is sought where there would have been ignorance.

The vice in question becomes a topic of conversation, and young people are made to think it attractive because it is fashionable and forbidden. 

Even more serious is the effect upon the writer.

The police magistrate's opinion is so incalculable – he lets pass so much that seems noxious and pounces upon so much that seems innocent – that even the writer whose record is hitherto unblemished is uncertain what may or may not be judged obscene, and hesitates in fear and suspicion.

What he is about to write may seem to him perfectly innocent – it may be essential to his book; yet, he has to ask himself, what will the police magistrate say?

And not only what will the police magistrate say, but what will the printer say and what will the publishers say?

For both printer and publisher will be trying, uneasily and anxiously, to anticipate the verdict of the police magistrate and will naturally bring pressure to bear upon the writer to put them beyond the reach of the law.

He will be asked to weaken, to soften, to omit.

Such hesitation and suspense are fatal to freedom of mind, and freedom of mind is essential to good literature.

Moreover, if modern books become so insipid, so blameless, so full of blank spaces and evasions that we cannot read them, we shall be driven to read the classics, where obscenity abounds. 

For these reasons I think it desirable that the law should distinguish clearly between books that are written or sold for pornographic purposes and books whose obscenity is an incidental part of them – between Aristotle’s works as they are sold in the rubber goods shops, that is to say, and Aristotle's works as they are sold in the shops of Messrs Hatchard and Bumpus. [Respectable bookshops in central London].

Source

Virginia Woolf: On Words

[cussima]

𐙚₊˚ I ACCIDENTALLY MANIFESTED WHITE TEETH TODAY ⊹♡

post contents:

✴︎ how manifestations can show up ✴︎ doubts i had + how i didn't deal with them to show you that manifestations show up regardless ✴︎ context for my teeth before and now story time:

I had my braces removed in december of 2019, straight away you could tell how stained my teeth were afterward, but the pandemic happened. There wasn't a need to get them whitened out (since nobody was going to see my teeth), or a possibility (cuz who tf would go to the dentist when a virus transmitted through breathing was happening). Fast-forward to 2023, the stains were still there but I had no toothaches or anything, my teeth seemed perfectly healthy, but stained. Since I hadn't been to the dentist in three years, I got an appointment. But when I mentioned the stains and that I wanted to get rid of them the dentist dodged it, like completely ignored me !! I assumed she dodged me because I'm a student and the price for a whitening would be too expensive (😭) So I thought that was it ! I would have to live with the stains for the rest of my life. I did some research on stains, apparently, some are harder to remove than others, and since the last dentist had ignored me when I asked her about them, I assumed they were unremovable. Accepting that they were magic-unremovable-stains didn't have that much of an impact on me until a few weeks ago; when my teeth became whiter and the stains more noticeable due to the contrast between them. What did you do to manifest this away? + Limiting beliefs I had with this Well it was such a straight in my face thing that I said "no they're whiter now." and forgot about it, then went back to reacting to them when I would see them (and it still manifested as you see, otherwise I wouldn't be writing this) ✴︎ I was so determined to listen to the 3D that I changed my smile to make the stains wouldn't show as much, or I would cover my mouth when I smiled or laughed, etc. ✴︎ Went as far as thinking "this is the only thing about me that is unattractive" or I would compare myself to others thinking "They have crooked teeth and I don't, but at least they're white" ✴︎ Only yesterday I was watching a girl talking about auras, and she said smiling was extremely attractive and I said "must be easier when your teeth aren't stained, so I'll just not smile as much" Until today !! I had a dentist appointment for a yearly check-up (a different dentist) and I was absolutely dreading it. I hate hate hate !! The dentist, I only go because it's a responsibility I maintain for my health. I didn't have much money on me, only enough for the tooth decay I believed I had and the price of the appointment. Which wasn't a lot. When I got in the dentist checked my teeth, he said I definitely have a decay but it's between two teeth so it would cost double what I had. And he told me !! My teeth were really stained and I had to get them whitened, and the price of the whitening was the exact money I had with me for that appointment !! So obviously I took the chance and whitened them.

I am so happy with my new white teeth, I'm smiling so much now because I'm so confident on my smile. They literally look GORGEOUS. I am so excited y'all I'm soso happy. Moral of the story: Manifestations show up in different and unexpected ways, but they always always still come !! Even if you don't have a military persistence with them!

[sarnai4]

Story Question

Trigger warning for SA.

Greek mythology has a firm grip on my brain and won't let go, so I'm going to write another fic for it. My question now is whether you think it should be a one-shot or have multiple chapters. The story itself will be focused on the gods, but I just had a very grim thought that I wanted to bring to the page.

Athena is Zeus’s favorite and she's also said to be beautiful (kind of how a war started). This would be fine on its own, but we know how Zeus is. However, that's his first child and he doesn't want anything happening to her. So, she's safe from him, but what if that attention is then directed at Ares when he's still a young immortal? He's known for being attractive and it's not unlike Zeus to go after his own family. Considering how much of a creep Poseidon also is, he wouldn't be against doing the same. What makes matters worse is that they're two of the most powerful immortals. Even though Ares has a fighting spirit, there's no way for him to win against either of them.

This has a ripple effect of Hera hating Ares since she sees him as another rival for her husband's affection (considering how she's the queen of victim blaming, I could see it happening). Ares protects his younger siblings from their father and uncle, but they're too young to understand this. When they're told terrible things about him - lies about why he's so short-tempered, they believe them. More and more, he's made to seem like this terrible member of the family.

The only ones who know the truth are Hades, Hestia, and Demeter (who's also suffered abuse at the hands of Zeus and Poseidon). They can offer some comfort, but they're not really strong enough to help. What could make a difference is when Athena learns. All this time, she thought the immortal was the embodiment of hatred and bloodlust, but she finally sees that her little brother is suffering and needs help.

I'm really okay writing it either as the single chapter or with more. I am just very undecided. Please let me know what you think of the idea too!

[faaun]

ok let's catch up quickly

[lisxdumbr]

The whole "if a person is mad at you it's their responsibility to tell you" thing just made me realize how fucked my situation is. Like just. woah

[nihiltism]

realtalk you guys probably dont need to know about but i know like zero weirdromantic people in real life, i think my cuddlebuddy might still be in love with me but also i dont think i mind at all. my default un-filtered way of showing affection to close friends Is near impossible to differentiate from romantic affection and i dont mind being treated with affection that is probably romantic as long as the other party doesn't expect romantic love or exclusivity from me, or lead anybody outside of us to make assumptions on our relationship. and like. i doubt they care since what i do is so close to romantic anyway. its not really leading anybody on if we've talked about it

[fairybonesandstardust]

istg non lesbians need to back tf out of lesbian conversations and lesbians need to get their shit together

a small edit for a little more context: this post is inspired by a tiktok of a girl talking about another girl (their both lesbians) said she slept with men as a form of self harm after breakups. everyone in the comments immediately started claiming that she was as actually bisexual. i want my community to be a safe space

[born-to-lose]

Why the uglier the boyfriends the bigger the ego of the girlfriends like honey I would not be proud of having pulled That 💀

[peppermintmochafem]

.

[void-tiger]

…the difference between me and my allo friend… she already has a friendship with her crush. Her crush jokes and texts and visits her back. He’s even hugged her. And if he isn’t attracted to her back, she’ll throw all that away. Is there ANY consideration for his feelings at all?!

While me? I will rip out my own heart by keeping my distance if that’s what would be needed from me—because of a lack of interest, or because things are just complicated; there isn’t a lack of interest back. The opposite, apparently. There’s an Old Guilt about Yet Again feeling unable to reciprocate back the way they wish to…when this whole time all I’ve wanted was to try and find a middle ground. I will aggressively and persistently defend the right to JUST friendship and gently but firmly tell everyone to Leave It Alone, Stay Out Of It, Don’t Pressure EITHER Of Us. Because actual trust and respect and building a solid friendship at whatever level the other person either wants or can offer back…that means more to me than “I’m romantically attracted to this person emotionally and if they feel the same way I’d be open to exploring that with them at whatever point in the future.”

I…dunno. Maybe it’s just the difference between allosexuals and asexuals. Or Lust/Infatuation and alterous/queer platonic attraction. I won’t claim that I’m immune to limerence because…I’m not. But the kind I experience isn’t built upon The Idea of a person and what they look like…but my brain refusing to not get hyperfixated on someone and struggling to pry its jaws open to Let It GO, and…hope, I guess. Hope to finally actually be accepted and not containing myself so tightly inside.

Who someone actually is, if we have a spark of a platonic rapport (over QPR or romantic), matters more to me than an Idea of them, how they look, etc.

And it’s hard to not feel exasperated with apparently…this isn’t how people experience things. I’m always worrying my desire for a connection is too heavy and ultimately selfish. Even as…I really Don’t Care what sort of relationship I have, I just want to discover what it is and fortify it then privately compartmentalize anything leftover. While the majority of people…really don’t take someone’s feelings into consideration at all. It’s only how they feel and how the object of their attraction makes them feel.

…how am I supposed to not feel completely furious about this utter objectification regardless of someone’s gender and sexuality being considered the Acceptable Norm.

Especially when I have always had to fight so damn hard to even have friends and platonic intimacy with friends. Forget when I do have “extra” platonic attraction at play as well.

[this-should-do]

ykno i think that only ever being told im physically appealing by drs saying i could be prettier if i did this or that or lost weight or by my mom trying to emphasize how im a pretty GIRL to invalidate my desire to be more masculine most of my life probably affected my ability to feel good about my body