my advice to anyone reading this: if you ever feel disconnected from yourself, write down your fears on a piece of paper or in a journal. write down all of them that come to mind, even if they are “stupid” or seem to be redundant. just do it, because you are forcing yourself to face them. it reassures you why you might feel off, and it reassures you that you can face these things and make a change. it makes you connect to yourself again. it gives you perspective. it’s scary to face your fears, but writing them down is a start. once you see them in front of you, something clicks again. you realize you are afraid of a lot of things and how they are impacting small things in your daily life. it makes you aware of them and how that might explain why you don’t want to go to the grocery store, or why you are afraid of affection or why you are truly afraid of love. write them all down and keep them somewhere to look back at. it seems scary, it seems like it would be bad to have them constantly there reminding you of what is holding you back. but as you face them, you can cross them off. you can see your progress, and you can become aware of how to make them disappear. you can’t change anything until you face yourself, and the best way to face yourself is to realize every little fear you have. admitting your fears to yourself is brave, and if you are afraid you’re not, you can check that off your list first thing. you will regain control of yourself again, i promise.
You’re confusing me! Confusion is part of it. That’s how you find out if something’s there. Emotions are never black and white. They’re more like symptoms. You lose your breath every time they enter a room. Your heart beats faster when they walk by. Your skin tingles when they stand close enough to feel their breath. I know you feel what I feel, Alec. You don’t have any clue what I feel so back off.
Warnings: fluffy fluff, smutty smut, a bit of angst if you squint
A/N: Anon Requested: “Can you write one about Sam x
reader. Reader is shy quiet bookworm who is in love with Sam. She knows he
would never feel the same way. So she fantasizes about him seducing her. Then
it really happens. Thank you” Hope this is OK!
You couldn’t focus on the book in front of you. The
bunker was quiet enough, the light warm enough, your legs comfortably resting
over the arm of the armchair you were laid in, but you just couldn’t stop
thinking about him. It was an uncharacteristically quiet day, and it was
supposed to be the day you finished this book you’d been trying to finish for
weeks. But every time the main character was mentioned, your mind wandered and
you thought back to the tall, long haired, broad shouldered man you knew in real
life. You weren’t even halfway through this thing, but you wouldn’t give up on
it. You’d never given up halfway through a book and you didn’t plan on starting
Clearing your throat, you tried to refocus.
You felt your eyes growing heavy and before you knew it
you were drifting off to sleep, your head resting on the other arm of the chair,
the book still open and perched against your thighs. You felt yourself smile as
you saw Sam move towards you, his hand coming up to hold your face before he crashed
his lips to yours. You were suddenly against a wall, his hands on your waist
holding you in place as he deepened the kiss. You gripped the fabric of his shirt
as he let his hands wander down, his lips moving to suck a mark under your ear.
A moan rumbled past your lips as you felt his fingers
slip under the top of your jeans and you suddenly started awake.
You jumped up, sitting up in the chair, realising you’d
fallen asleep and were having one of your not-so-infrequent fantasies about the
younger Winchester. It had been a long couple of weeks and sleep had been
severely lacking for all of you as you worked the case.
“Dude you were out,” you heard Dean’s voice and laughed.
“And making some serious happy noises,” he winked, and you instantly cringed,
your cheeks flushing pink.
They are laying in the dark after a long day. Chirrut is supposed to be in his own bed, but once the lights in the hall went out he had gotten up quickly and moved into Baze’s. The room is dark, and all Baze can see is faint light outside reflecting off of blue eyes and small outlines of Chirrut’s face. The rest swallowed by darkness.
Baze’s hand slides up and his thumb finds Chirrut’s warm cheek, his thumb sliding over Chirrut’s cheek bone. “Chirrut,” he says quietly, and without thinking, “I want to marry you…”
There is silence in the room, and after a moment of reflection panic bubbles in Baze’s stomach. Oh Force why did he have to say that? Why did he say that now? “We don’t… we don’t have to, you don’t have to say anything, I’m being silly… unthinking… I’m-”
“I thought we were married?” Chirrut’s voice is confused, comes out as a question.
Baze swallows, looking at Chirrut’s eyes because it’s the only thing he can actually see. “What?”
“I thought we were married.”
Baze’s hand moves again on his cheek. “When would we have gotten married?”
“Two years ago,” Chirrut said simply. “It was here, in this bed… after I got out of the clinic. You told me that you loved me, and that you still did… and you promised you would never leave me. As long as we were living, you would be by my side.” Baze can feel Chirrut’s face move as he smiles. “That sounds like wedding vows to me…
Baze stares at him. "That… Chirrut that wasn’t a wedding, there was no ceremony!”
“I don’t need any ceremonies,” Chirrut said, moving up against Baze’s chest, pressing his face into him. “Mm… it’s the only wedding I need…”
Baze sighed, and then reached up, stroking Chirrut’s head. “You’re impossible, Chirrut.”
“I love you, my love…” Chirrut purred into his chest. “If you want to have a real wedding, then of course we will.”
Baze smiled softly and kissed his forehead. “I love you too…”
The demisexual flag uses the colors from the asexual flag, since demisexual falls under the asexual umbrella. The black triangle represents asexuality. The white represents sexuality. The purple strip represents community. The grey represents the grey-asexual spectrum.
What does demisexual mean?
When someone experiences sexual attraction only after forming an emotional connection with the person.
What is it like to be demisexual?
So…when I was younger and my friends started getting crushes on people that they never talked to and basically didn’t know anything else than how they looked, it just confused me. Like, how can you have a crush if you don’t know anything about the person. Like, I could tell they were cute or handsome but that’s basically it. Then there was this person, they were nothing special, I didn’t even think they were attractive but as I got to know them better they were the prettiest person on earth in my opinion. Basically I don’t care about looks. You can be as pretty as you want, I will still feel no feelings for you. If I get to know you and like you I can fall in love with you. I don’t fall in love with how you look, I fall in love with your personality (sounds cheesy but that’s how it is for me) so I can even fall in love with an “ugly” person if I love their personality and I can’t imagine doing sexual things with a person that is attractive and I don’t know their personality. It’s just…no…xD