gabrielstolethetardis

So, gabrielstolethetardis asked me a question about something.

About whether I’d rather have a day long “sex-a-thon” where we could do “WHATEVER [I] WANT” with Richard Speight Jr, Mark Sheppard, or spend an hour watching them. After much stalling and what not, I finally conceded that I’d choose the day with Mark.

I don’t care that it’s not “tmi”-Tuesday anymore, but here is how the day would play out.

My parents would be out of town, my brother with his friends somewhere, so I’d be expecting a lazy day. I’d have my longsleeve Who shirt on and probably just an old pair of my volleyball shorts because they’re comfy and short and that’s just how I roll. Then, as I’d be coming down the stairs, I would hear a knock on the door. Four, to be exact, which would get my heart racing for two reasons. One) Holy shit, someone is here. Two) WHAT IF IT’S THE MASTER OH GOD SEXUAL FRUSTRATION. So, timidly, I’d open the door, and freeze in disbelief as I see Mark A. Sheppard leaning against the threshold, clad in Romo Lampkin shades, black jeans, and the WELCOME TO AMERICA shirt. Rendered absolutely incapable of speaking, he would smirk, and then saunter in to my house, shutting the door and sweeping me up into his arms. He’d carry me to the den [of iniquity] and throw me down onto the ottoman that I’d pushed in between the perpendicular couches before he came. He’d lean over me and run a hand through my hair, telling me to wait there, leaving me breathless. (gawd do I like participles and gerunds.) He’d leave the room, and I’d hear the fridge open and shut, and then come back with a tub of icecream, whipped cream, and chocolate sauce.

At the end of the twenty-four hours, he would just be cradling me in his arms, kissing my head and rubbing my hands as I try to bury my face into his chest more.

“I- …I didn’t want it to end.”

“I know, love”

Another sob would escape my lips. His shirt would probably be soaked by now.

“I’m so sorry. It’s just. It’s so sad.”

“I know, I know. But Sam joins him in the West at the end of his life. He heals.”

I tremble again. “But he’s never whole, even with Rosie and little Elanor and his twelve other children in the Shire. And then Pippin lives on years after every one dies because he was the youngest of them all.”

He’d kiss my temple.

“You sure weren’t lying when you said they set you off.”

I laugh shakily. “yeah. Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be. It was fun.”

I’d smile and snuggle into his chest again.

Oh. Sorry. What did we do?

We started off with Sherlock, then we moved onto “Fire” of The X-Files, after which we watched The Parting of Ways parts 1 and 2, The Impossible Planet and The Satan Pit, Doomsday and the one that comes before, Utopia, The Sound of Drums, The Last of the Time Lords, The Impossible Astronaut, Day of the Moon, and then the extended editions of all of the The Lord of the Rings.

What? You said WHATEVER I WANT.

and I’m not comfortable with sex. Being . well. me and all. xD

consultingtrickster-blog  asked:

what is your sexuality?

I think maybe I just wanted an opportunity to talk about this, even though I can’t really say that I … identify. But it means something to me, so, here we go.

I guess if I were going to go with an official “orientation” the one I am closest to is pansexuality. I don’t really say it too much (or try not to) because of that awesome craze where people started saying that it was bullshit and bisexuality for special snowflakes and hipsters and people who need to feel special. For one thing, I’m kind of one of those people who likes to feel special, but that has absolutely nothing to do with who I am or am not attracted to.
To most people, though, I’m straight. Or rather, most think I am. It’s not that I actively hide my sexuality (except in school, of course), but I don’t get around to talking about being attracted to women or people who identify as trans*, genderqueer, non-binary, gender-fluid, etc. all that often. When I do talk about being attracted to people other than cis-males in non-Cirlce company, though, it’s usually in a physical context and people tend to assume it’s one of those “girl-crush” or admiration things. Also, there is no way I would ever set off anyone’s gaydar EVER.
For the most part, actually, you could consider me straight if you wanted to. I have a marked preference for males/masculine individuals/those who use male pronouns when it comes to physical/sexual attraction and for most people that’s enough to say that I’m straight, end of story. The only thing is that there have been enough notable exceptions to make me realize otherwise. 

Sometimes, though, I wonder if I’m aromantic. The relationships I have with my friends tend to border on the type of emotional intimacy that most people tend to equate with romantic relationships. I feel like it’s those types of relationships that should bleed into physical relationships, not the other way around. For me, there’s not too much of a difference between friendship love and romantic love, it’s just that sometimes one comes with a reciprocated physical/sexual attraction. 

This is all a bit fuzzy, I know, but give me a minute to read it over and I’ll edit a little. Thanks, though, for giving me the opportunity to ramble a little.