Next Door By ASTN And Amelia Moore 🚪 ☆ ★

i find it interesting how when discussing internet communities and spaces, the common defence is that the communities' members are minors/neurodivergent/autistic/etc so we shouldn't bully them rather than that we shouldn't bully people on principle?

like, the phrase "don't bully people" shouldn't require qualifiers like "because they're [x];" it should stand on its own. because by that logic, if someone committed the crime of Being Unusual Online and wasn't a minor/neurodivergent/etc, would that make it acceptable to bully them?

idk, it's just kinda ick to me how we seem to approach cyberbullying and online harassment as "don't do it if they have an excusable behaviour" vs "don't do it because people shouldn't be bullied"

⭑ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚

Note: Creds to @/fawndollie for the star divider. ♡

Rating: Explicit - !!Minors DO NOT Interact!!

Warning: Oral (Fem!Receiving), Handjob (M!Receiving)

Word Count: 2,041

Summary: Xavier comes back home a little tipsy for the first time ever and he just can’t stop loving on you because he missed you so much.

Tipsy!Xavier/Reader

Xavier didn’t mean to come home inebriated. Now granted, he wasn’t too bad. He wasn’t stumbling all over the place and unable to stand upright, but he’s never got like this before, so it was an unusual thing to navigate. Being in complete control of himself has always been important to your homebody boyfriend.

His cheeks puff as he blows out a breath, trying to open the door to your shared apartment. It takes him two tries before the key successfully connects to the key hole and he twists it to the left to disengage the lock. That alone makes him even more thankful for one of his coworkers driving him home or else he’d be sitting at a bus stop like this.

He had listened to you and went out with a few colleagues from work. How could he not when you so sweetly said, “I think going out would be good for you, lovebug. You’re in the house so much.”

The only time Xavier left was to go to work, go grocery shopping, and to hang out with you to do whatever you wanted. If you left it up to him, because he liked you more than anyone else on this planet, he had absolutely no problem with you being the only person he’s around.

So admittedly, he was hesitant at first. He didn’t want to leave you home alone because not only did he not like being where you weren’t at all times if he can help it, he’d miss a crucial part of the daily routine you and he shared.

After work, you were always home to greet him. You would run over to him and kiss his lips and nose, before returning to the stove to finish preparing dinner. That small interaction was one of his favorites between you two amongst the handful of ones he looked forward to throughout the day. Today though, because he wanted to make you proud of him for his attempt to “broaden his horizons”, he got none of that.

He missed you the whole time while he sat down with his peers for dinner. Each time he took a bite of the food, he’d frown because although it wasn’t nasty, it wasn’t your cooking. Every time someone started talking, he was respectful enough to listen and engage, but nothing would ever quite compare to how much he loved hearing you tell him about your day.

You were on his mind so much that he had wished he would’ve just stayed home. But he stuck it out, and was here now. All he wanted to do was crawl all over you so that you could hold him tight and kiss him for hours to make up for your time apart.

As the door pushed open, he hummed in content and smiled to himself at the smell of your favorite oat and honey scented candle lingering in the air, welcoming him back to where he always wants to be. The warm apartment was a perfect contrast to the frigid temperatures outside and the small star lamp that you had bought a few weeks ago illuminated his path just enough for him to find his way to you.

He kicked his sneakers off at the door, locking it after and washing his hands before he went on his search. Xavier was a man of routine, even with a fuzzy mind because of the few fruity alcoholic beverages he consumed.

He gently tiptoed down the hallway just in case you were sleeping and he wondered if he was selfish for hoping that you weren’t. It wasn’t exactly late, only 10:30, but you had times where you couldn’t keep your eyes open and he’d have to gently pull your phone or a book from your limp hands so that you could rest properly after you had passed out.

He pushes the cracked door open and immediate relief almost sobers the man when he finds you with your back turned but your phone is in your hand, screen dimmed as you scroll through random posts online.

“Hey,” he greets softly, his voice rumbling as he trudges inside. You crane your neck to the right to see him, beaming a smile as he starts to remove his clothes to climb into bed. He wants to shower, but he wants you more.

“How was dinner?” you ask as you turn your body to the other side so that you can face him properly. The gentle gleam of fairy lights he helped you put up awhile ago illuminate your soft face.

He shrugs, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it into the laundry basket before he begins unbuckling his jeans.

“It was fine. I couldn’t quite focus, if I’m being honest. Now I feel a little… off.”

“Oh?” you raise a brow, propping your head on your knuckles. “What happened?”

“You,” he says simply, making your eyes widen, but that makes him smirk.

“Me? What did I do?” The wide eyes you sport makes him breathe out a chuckle.

He stops fumbling with the button of his pants, looking into your eyes. “It’s hard to hold conversations when all I could do what think about you,” he sighs as you quirk a brow, raising it with a knowing smile. “I wondered what you were doing, if you ate, what you ate, if you missed me just as much. It was to the point that I saw this mango drink and I figured, she’d love something like that. That’s what made me try it,” he presses his lips together as you wait patiently for him to finish. “I drank about four before I finally realized that it had—”

“Alcohol in it?” you finish for him. You knew your boyfriend all too well. He’s done this before—sees things that reminds him of you and will fully commit to giving it a go, not ever paying attention to what it’s all about and just takes it for face value. He just loves you so much.

He nods and you really notice his slightly flushed cheeks. “So you’re tipsy and that’s why you feel off?”

“You’re half right.” Before you can try and figure out what he’s talking about, he charges at you, making you yelp in surprise.

He’s quick, climbing into the bed and over you, burying his face in your neck and tickling your skin. The kisses make you laugh so hard that your cheeks start to ache from how hard you’re grinning.

“Xav, what are you doing?!” you exclaimed through a squeal as his hands come up under your shirt to grab at your sides.

“Is this my shirt?” he looks down at the light blue t-shirt from a band he’s never listened to before, breathless after his playful onslaught.

“Duh, you were gone and I missed you.” You brush his bangs out of his pretty eyes.

“I missed you. So much,” he kisses the corner of your mouth.

“Babe, you did not go off to war,” you laugh. “I think the alcohol is making you clingy.”

“Clingy?” he challenges. But he accepts defeat when your hand cups his face and he melts into your touch. “You may be right. Being away from you for more than half a day is not something I’ll do again.” He turns his head to kiss your palm then down your wrist.

After you and Xavier moved in together, being with you, around you, was the only thing that he wanted.

“You’re so dramatic.” You roll your eyes jokingly.

“Maybe.” He licks your skin gently. “But I’m also in love with you. Will you let me show you how much?” He leans back down into your neck to kiss you more, but it’s less playful this time. It’s not playful at all, in fact. It’s hot and wanting.

You trace his back muscles, feeling them shift and move against your palm as you spread your legs to let him press deeper.

“You’re drunk, Xav.” Your attempt to protest is hindered by a desperate whimper as he starts to kiss down to your collarbone.

“Tipsy,” he corrects. “Loving you will make it go away. You always know how to fix me.”

He pulls back to crash his lips into you and you lick at them, tasting the residue of the drink.

“Mm, you’re good,” you lick him again. “I do like it.”

He smiles lazily, kissing down your body as your back arches. Lifting the shirt, he kisses down your plush stomach, never stopping despite how you writhe so impatiently beneath his wet lips.

He simultaneously pulls your panties down the lower he gets, pulling them off your legs. He tosses them aimlessly in the room, making himself comfortable in front of your pussy. He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t make you or him wait any longer as he sucks you into his mouth.

“I love you so much,” he mumbles into your cunt. “Don’t make me have to leave you anymore. I prefer being right here.”

His tongue laps up your sweetness as he takes it and brings what he deems ambrosia to your clit. Your hand fondles your breast through your shirt as he inserts a finger inside you warm walls, groaning at how tightly you squeeze around his digits while taking your bundle of nerves into his mouth. Your thighs squeeze the sides of his head and Xavier uses his other hand to make sure you don’t stop, pressing against the outside of your thigh to keep him locked in his happy place.

“You—Oh, shit.. Xav, your tongue..” You can’t complete your sentence as his nose brushes against your sensitive nerves while he tongue fucks your hole. You’re sweeter than that drink that’s admittedly made him feel needier than usual, sweeter than any century old wine.

Just as you get ready to come, he climbs back up and devours your mouth again. Between your taste and the mango on his tongue, you’re bucking your hips in desperation to feel him in any way you can. His hand comes down to start rubbing your clit in slow circles. He knows how much you like when he rubs you slow. Going too fast makes the pleasure cease too quickly.

“You’re so pretty,” he mewls. “So, so pretty.”

At the same time, you reach into his jeans and past his underwear, wrapping your hand around his length. He’s so hard and sensitive that it takes only a few pumps for him to start whining, breathing deeply into your mouth as he chases his high that’s closer than he’d wish.

He circles your clit in time with how you jerk him off, but when your thumb rubs over his slit, his body abruptly jerks as thick ropes of cum shoot from his cock, staining the fabric and making a mess on your hand. He moans so loudly and you thank the universe for blessing you with such a beautiful and vocal man.

You don’t stop, tugging on his overly sensitive cock until you feel that tightness coil in your stomach.

“Give it to me,” he whispers as he presses his forehead against yours. A few more rubs has you creaming, your clit pulsing beneath the pads of his fingers as your orgasm rocks your body.

“Good girl,” he smiles against your lips as he kisses you slow, feeling the mess of his cum spread as your movements slow.

He removes his hand, cupping your face and rubbing his thumb against your lower lip. You pull your hand from his pants, looking into his still lustful eyes as you lick his cum off your knuckles.

“Oh god,” he shudders. “Yeah, I’m never going out again. Not when I have someone as perfect as you here.”

The corner of your mouth tilts up. “I think that’s a good idea. But we should clean up and get your tipsy ass to bed.”

He laughs deeply this time, his body shaking. It’s so contagions that you can’t help yourself and do the same.

He kisses your nose like you always do to him when he settles, admiring the connection you two share that’s changed his life so wondrously.

“We definitely should, so long as you’re doing it right beside me.”

everyone claims to be an ally to the disabled community until

- it’s a high support needs autistic

- the symptoms can’t be romanticized and are gross

- someone else’s disability starts to affect their life

- it’s a condition that cannot be cured

- someone is intellectually disabled

- someone is female and disabled

- someone is queer and disabled or black/POC and disabled

- someone is a minor and disabled

- ambulatory wheelchair users exist

- part time mobility aid users exist

- the “hellen keller wasn’t real” discussion

- they’re called out on their ableism

- someone is semiverbal/nonverbal

- someone doesn’t understand boundaries or the law

- someone has a deaf accent

- someone misses a lot of school or doesn’t go to school

- someone doesn’t want their disease/disorder cured

- someone does want their disease/disorder cured

- age regression

- having to mask for someone’s genuine safety

- actually needing to listen to disabled people’s opinions instead of immediately forming their own

- not infantilizing disabled people

- when a disabled person struggles with hygiene

- they see a “useless” disability aid

- they don’t agree with a disabled persons lifestyle or opinions

- until they have to put in work to be an advocate and a real ally to the disabled community.

everyone is a disability ally until things get hard.

hi, i'm valerian; yes, i'm yet another queer theorist on tumblr - original, i'm aware /lh

generally, i try to remain on topics primarily focusing on queer culture history, and identity; however, i tend to share whatever piques my (special) interests

like, i'm gonna be so fr and say that my posts basically go wherever the autism takes me lol

i don't really care who reads/reblogs my posts and, sure, if you want to dm me, then go ahead (please refrain from messaging me if you're under 18, thanks), but i can't guarantee i'll reply. likewise, asks are fine but i can't promise a timely reply.

also if you're into art, feel free to look at my portfolio ^-^

this will likely be continuously revised as i feel the desire to btw

Society: be yourself!

Me as a child: *be’s myself*

Society: ewww omg what is wrong with you! We said to be yourself not weird! We’re gonna reject you and make you an outsider!

Me: but I followed your rule of being myself? Why don’t you like me? What’s wrong with me? Why does everyone else get the rules that need to be followed but I don’t?

I want my gay rights now! - Marsha P. Johnson (NYC Pride Parade, 1973)

PAIRINGS: Reader x Xavier

SUMMARY: You and Xavier are fighting a wanderer when it unexpectedly unleashes an aphrodisiac, causing Xavier to turn feral ✶⋆.˚

WARNING/TAGS: MDNI 18+, use of sex pollen/ aphrodisiacs, mentions of rough p in v sex, multiple orgasms and overstim, grinding/ dry humping, slight dubcon, clit stimulation. 1.2K words

A/N: My version of the popular use of aphrodisiacs trope ♡

You enter the forest clearing with a frown.

“Where is the wanderer? Tara said that it would be here somewhere…”

Xavier trails behind you, his brow furrowed as he glances around the open stretch of grass and the dense ring of trees looming in the distance.

“Do you see something moving amongst the trees?”

“Wh—?!” Your sentence abruptly gets cut off when something huge and heavy pounces upon you. You let out a shriek as you're met face-to-face with the creature, a monstrosity of jagged teeth, forked slimy tongues and glowing amber eyes. It aggressively swings its tail at you, long, black-leathered and barbed with jagged spikes—

And then there’s a burst of bright light. The wanderer is thrown back into the air as Xavier advances towards it cautiously, his sword drawn and poised ready to attack. The wanderer hisses, pawing angrily against the ground, its eyes swivelling between you both. It seems to make up its mind, knowing that you’re the easier target, it attacks you once more. Its tail comes down hard on you, and you stand there petrified, knowing that there isn’t enough time to dodge anyway –

With a groan, Xavier grabs you by the shoulders and pushes you out of harm’s way as the barbed end sinks into his own shoulder. You grab your gun and fire, and the bullet lands snugly right into the wanderer's heart. It growls as it collapses, taking its last few breaths of air.

“Xavier!” You rush to your partner’s side as panic seizes you. He’s on the ground, his eyebrows pinched in pain as you roll him over to inspect the damage. There are a few grazes that cut into his uniform and skin, and he clutches his shoulder, panting lightly as he looks up at you with a strange expression.

“Thank god, the cut isn’t too deep – why did you try to save me, you idiot –” You gently push him down onto the grassy floor as you straddle him, fumbling around in your bag for your first aid kit. What you don’t notice, however, is the strange dark fluid from the wanderer’s tail soaking into his wound and the way Xavier is panting almost too hard and his oddly laboured breaths as he looks up at you.

“Pl…please get off of me…” Xavier says, sounding forced, and his azure blue eyes begging.

“What? I’m trying to heal you.” You look down at him, confused.

Xavier’s eyes are dilating and contracting rapidly. His hands are balled up into fists as he desperately forces them to stay glued at his side. He grinds his rock-hard boner against your clothed cunt; it is taking all his willpower to not buck up into you and give in into his urges.

Realisation washes over you.

“The wanderer … its poison contain some sort of aphrodisiac, don’t they? What sort of monster has Tara set us up to?”

“I don’t … I don’t know … “ Xavier says weakly, closing his eyes. “But if you don’t –”

His eyes fly open, and they glow a hue of blue as he is suddenly shoving you down onto the ground with newfound strength. He growls as he wraps his hands around your clothed tits and squeezes hard, eliciting moans from you, your back instinctively arching into his demanding touch. He slides a hand over your stomach and down to your pants, and with an aggressive tug it is pulled down to your ankles, your bare cunt exposed to him.

“Stay right there.” Xavier snarls, as he pushes his boner up against your cunt. His voice is deeper, meaner, as he slides off his own pants and rubs his dick against your soaking pussy, catching up against your clit and sending waves of pleasure though your body.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head and you practically see stars when Xavier finally pushes his leaking cock into your tight wet heat with a hiss. He sets a brutal pace, fucking into you like some feral animal, and all you can do is lie there and take his cock.

Xavier leans down, licking a stripe up to your neck as he continues to thrust relentlessly into you. When you moan out loud, he attaches his lips onto that spot on your neck, seemingly satisfied with finding your sensitive spot as he nibbles and sucks.

“Xavier”, you whimper. “ S’ going to leave a mark…”

At the sound of his name on your tongue, the glow in Xavier’s eyes seem to dim a little . His head jerks up, and his expression twists into shock as he realizes what he’s done.

“Oh no,” he whispers. “I’m– I’m so sorry –”

For a moment, he almost seems back to normal. But then the blue glow flares brighter in his eyes, and his pace quickens. A sneer curls across his lips.

“Miss the old me?” he demands, as his hips snap into you with a particularly hard thrust. “Shame. He can’t save you now.”

His nimble, sleek fingers find your clit and they circle around it, as he continues to pound you. “I’ve only just gotten started with you.”

You whimper pathetically at this, and Xavier’s pupils dilate even further.

“You like it when I’m like this, don’t you?” His lips are on the shell of your ear, his breath hot. “Look at the way your tight little pussy is holding onto my cock.” His voice is mocking, as he rolls your clit in between his finger, giving it a suddenly pinch.

Your orgasm seizes your body as you come around his big hard cock, crying his name and trembling from the force of it. Xavier fucks you through it, and true to his words, he doesn’t stop his brutal pace.

✶⋆.˚

You must have came in ten different positions before the aphrodisiac finally manages to work its way out of Xavier’s system. When he finally returns back to his usual self, for good this time, worry instantly fills his eyes as he apologises to you over and over again.

You let out a weak groan as you collapse to the ground. Xavier manages to catch you in time, pulling you close to his warm body and wrapping his strong arms around you.

“I … I didn’t know the wanderer would do that.” You quip. You’re pumped full of Xavier’s seed, and it’s obscene how it leaks out of your cunt. Xavier’s face instantly turns pink as his eyes fall onto your pussy. As his fingers reach out to swipe away the cum, they accidentally catch onto your sensitive clit, and you cry out loud from the overstimulation.

“I-I didn’t mean to –” Xavier stammers, his face turning an even darker shade of pink. “Please, let me clean you up and cook you dinner at my place. It’s the least I can do.”

The least he can do is to not cook you dinner, you think, but you don’t say that out loud. Instead, you hug him back.

“Don’t feel bad about what just happened, okay? It wasn’t your fault. Plus … I liked it.” Your face now matches the same shade of red as Xavier’s.

Xavier’s eyes are wide. He opens his mouth wordlessly, then closes it again. Finally, he says, shyly, “If that’s the case… Maybe tonight, you can come over for something a little more exciting than dinner.”

Your jaw drops. With such a sweet, innocent face, who’d expect he’d say such suggestive things?

❀❁✿

ew I hate bariometric pressure

btw, shoutout to disabled people who don’t do everything right.

to disabled people who knowingly do things that will make their condition (temporarily or permanently) worse.

to disabled people who aren’t the ‘perfect’ disabled person that does everything possible.

to disabled people who refuse to push themselves too hard or try to live up to able-bodied standards, and to disabled people who (knowingly or not) push themselves too hard and suffer because of it.

able-bodied people seem to struggle with the idea that disabled people can do whatever they want with their bodies. they seem to think disabled people should be doing what’s best for them 24/7, and should never do “bad/wrong” things.

disabled people deserve respect and autonomy, always.

Smart Enough

Synopsis: Dr. Zayne has an incredible mind, incredible physique and an incredible stamina. Having a pretty thing on his arm at all times is just a perk.

Warnings: Dumbification, Zayne is a Hard!Dom, size-difference, choking, filming, not for everyone, Y/n is sort of a crybaby, drooling.

As your fiancé, Zayne is a handsome doctor with an impressive physique, especially when it’s hidden under that white lab quote. He's tall, muscular, and you can't help but obsess over how much bigger he is than you. “Y/n, stop trying to get me to flex for pictures."

The way he says it is so cold. He’s relaxing, for once, in his home office chair. He just finished a workout, he tried to never miss a day no matter how tired he was from work. Y/n pouts, sitting on the edge of his desk. “Pleaseeee? I always like showing you off.”

Zayne looks up from his laptop, those piercing blue eyes meeting yours with a mix of exasperation and amusement. “And I always tell you I'm not here for your'showing off'. It's not professional." Despite his serious tone, there's a small smirk playing at his lips.

But behind closed doors, with the night casts a shadow over them, he changes. Your phone is propped on a tripod, angled just enough to show your cock drunk expression. His arm is around your throat, the muscle squishing your face as he drills you from behind.

The room is filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing and the rhythmic slapping of skin against skin. Zayne's grip around your throat tightens slightly, his voice low and husky in your ear. “See, this is what you want. Not some fucking Instagram post."

Zayne slows his thrusts, his hand sliding down to grasp your chin, forcing you to look at the screen. Your face is a mess of pleasure, his arm a thick band around your neck. He snaps a picture, the flash momentarily blinding you. “Perfect."

Your drooling, pupils dilated from the ecstacy. “S-so meannn Zay-!”

He chuckles darkly, his thumb wiping away the drool from your chin before bringing it to his own lips, sucking it clean. “You love it when I'm mean to you, don't you?" His hips snap forward, bottoming out inside you as his arm squeezes your throat.

You don’t want to admit it. Zayne is the smartest man you’ve ever met, maybe in the entire world. Knocking yourself down a peg is something that gives you a deep satisfaction. “N-Nu uh!”

Zayne throws his head back with a laugh.

God, you're cute.

He pulls out slightly, then snaps his hips hard. "You know what your problem is?" He growls, slapping your ass hard enough to leave a red mark. "You have no self respect. No filter."

You are whimpering as he releases your throat from his arms, instead he tangles his surgeon steady fingers into her your, pulling your head back so you are staring in the camera.

His fingers tighten in your hair, making you whimper. The camera captures your disheveled look - your mouth open, eyes half-lidded and slightly glassy, cheeks red. "Look at you," Zayne mutters, taking another picture. "No brain. No filter."

“I-I’m smart!” You sound like you are trying to convince yourself more than your surgeon fiancé

Zayne laughs again, his thumb spreading your drool over your chin. "Mhmm. And how many degrees do you have?" He asks mockingly, his hips moving slow and deep. "One?" He smirks. "Two?" He pulls back slightly, waiting for your answer.

You choke back a sob when his cock curved just right into your drooling walls. “N-none…”

Zayne's smirk grows wider, his eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and dominance. "Exactly," he says, his voice low and mocking. "And how many do I have?" He thrusts harder, emphasizing each word. "Four. Fucking. Degrees."

Zayne was a fucking child-prodigy of medical knowledge. But you, you were his pretty little Hunter that looked perfect on his cock.

His smirk softens slightly. "God, you're an airhead," He mutters, snapping another picture of your disheveled, half-crazed look. "One hundred fifty published papers. Surgeon at twenty seven. And you?" He laughs, his thumb pushing into your mouth.

"You're cute. Absolutely adorable. And so fucking stupid." His thrusts pick up speed, hitting that perfect spot inside you that makes you drool even more. He captures another photo, then pulls your hair harder.* "You know what else you are?"

You are so far gone, if your life ended right that second, you wouldn’t give a single shit.

“The love of my life.” He bends your head back and captures your mouth in a heated kiss. His cock twitches inside of you, and he cums.

He breaks the kiss, panting as he fills you up with his release. He holds the camera up, taking a picture of you all - him looking intense and satisfied, you looking absolutely wrecked and filled with his cum. He sets the camera down and gently pulls out of you.

You whimper, coming down from a very deep sub space. You’re shivering, sniffling and trying to wipe your tears away.

He watches you for a moment, a soft smile on his face. "Hey, come here," he says gently, pulling you into his lap and wrapping his arms around you. He brushes your hair out of your face and kisses your forehead. "You did so well, baby."

You immediately seeks his comfort, burying your face in his shoulder. His skin is sometimes cold to the touch, but there is no place you’d rather be. “D-did I do good?”

He nods, his arms tightening around you. "You did amazing," he murmurs, nuzzling into your hair. "I'm so proud of you. My pretty little Hunter, so obedient and perfect." He rocks you gently, his cold hands rubbing up and down your back to warm you up.

His voice dips, like he’s talking to one of his young patients in the pediatric ward.

His voice softens, taking on that gentle, almost paternal tone he reserves for his youngest patients and... apparently, his submissive fiancée when she's in a vulnerable state. “There we go... shh... my good girl..."

“Zayne?”

“Hm?”

“Am I smart?”

“Get some sleep, Princess.”