The Rise In The Popularity Of Love And Deepspace (which, For Brevity, I’ll Be Abbreviating To LADS)

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

If I ask U nicely can I have another soup cup?

As much as you want 🍜👍

Uh-oh, coming down with a case of “what-if-a-bunch-of-other-people-experience-these-symptoms-as-bad-as-I-do-but-they-suck-it-up-and-work-anyway-and-I’m-just-being-a-little-bitch”-itis

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.”

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?

❀❁✿

Ive seen posts about how disabled people should be able to have hobbies and how we should be able to do things that we like if we enjoy it and if it doesnt hurt us, and yeah I totally agree, but like unpopular opinion ig, let disabled people do things they enjoy even if it hurts them.

I, as a chronically ill person, have things I enjoy doing that arent that good for my pain levels. For example, I enjoy going on walks, just for like an hour or so around my town and in the forest. I will most likely have a flare up the day after/for a couple days after and my legs will be aching most of the way through walking but I love it, not the pain but the walking and seeing places (specifically the woods, i love the woods so much omdddd). Another example is video games, which may sound like an odd thing to flare from for some, but with fast paced video games on console or pc, my fingers get very stiff and achey from moving around so much so quickly, and it tires me to have to even use my eyes sometimes but I really like playing them.

Obviously there are way more examples that I've missed but the point still gets across. Let disabled people have hobbies, even ones that may mess up their pain levels, or make them extremely fatigued etc.

(if microlabels. contradictory labels, xenogender, etc. are something you have issue with, then dni please)

my hot take is that i side-eye this whole intellectualisation of queerness sometimes. like, i'm all for discussing and critically examining our identities (bc oh boy wouldn't it be ironic if i wasn't), but i just get the ick with how often we'll explain an identity with a paragraph of text behind it

like, okay, take for example the current discourse around the whole afab transfem/amab transmasc stuff; while, sure, i think explaining *why* someone might feel like that label represents them is helpful, i also feel like we shouldn't *have* to

like, if someone wants to call themselves something, then they can. i do not think there should be an expectation to explain, justify, or defend their reason; the sentence "i feel that this label genuinely represents how i feel" is sufficient

i suppose the reason it bothers me is that i see it disproportionately directed towards people who use microlabels or contradictory labels, and it often tends to imply that the use of such label is not enough, that it must be proven 'legitimate' before it can be accepted

idk, i haven't fully sifted through my thoughts on this (and obv there is a lot of nuance i'm skipping over here), it's just something i've been clocking lately

Sorry for infodumping about my special interest out of nowhere, you said a keyword and it activated my unskippable dialogue

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.