The “A” In LGBTQIA+ Stands For Autistic

so im asexual and alloromantic and i am in a relationship with my partner who is allosexual, I am comfortable having sex I just dont find any real pleasure or attraction in it and im in the point of my relationship that I would be fine letting them have sex with me

I've talked about this arrangement with my friends and they think that letting them have sex with me when im not interested in the sex itself but giving pleasure to my partner is a bad thing and that i shouldn't let someone have sex with me ever because I'm not attracted to it

my partner and i are fine with the arrangement and ive made it very clear that i am consenting, but also everything ive been taught is that you have to be super excited to have sex to actually mean your consent, you can't be kinda meh about it or do it for your partner or thats bad

and now the thought is wriggling in the back of my mind that im somehow lying to myself about being fine with this

No worries, I have a "No Stupid Questions Are Stupid Questions and Even If They Were, I don't Mind" rule, so its fine!

So, I can totally see where you're coming from. "Enthusiastic consent" has been a big theory over the years, specifically among folks who don't listen to asexual people and ignore how thoroughly sex workers have debunked it. But its not really realistic or how consent itself works.

People are allowed to make decisions about their bodies that they're not totally hyped about. They're allowed to make decisions about their bodies that they're neutral about, or even feel negatively about! Part of having bodily autonomy is that you're allowed to make decisions about your body for whatever reason and that's generally your business.

That includes having sex! You're not describing coercion, which would negate your consent. You're just describing communicating your consent with your partner for a different reason than your friends are used to hearing about.

You're allowed to have sex with your partner if you want to, even if you're not sexually attracted to them! That's your business. Just because you don't enjoy it the same way your partner does doesn't mean you don't have the ability to consent. That's not how it works.

Of course, if sex is a pain for you, obviously, I'd recommend finding something else to do but if it's just whatever to you and you like doing it with your partner sometimes because they like it, there's nothing automatically unhealthy about that.

If you're lying to yourself, you're likely to notice side effects of that, btw! Do you feel miserable afterwards or during sex? Do you dread it? Does your partner react badly if you say you don't want to do it? Things like that. You could take note of them for sure but at the end of the day, you still have the ability to consent. Period.

Captions cover the spot on the screen you put the information I need

The dialogue is captioned but not the song you have playing that the dialogue is responding to

You only captioned the person on the screen, not the person off screen who is also talking

No captioning of critical sound effects (alarms, bells, dogs barking, etc)

Speakers are not labelled at moments where it is not clear on the screen who is talking.

Captions cover the spot on the screen that you put the information I need!

Other d/Deaf people welcome to add.

Nigerian Pride 🏳️‍🌈🇳🇬

Originally, I went in worried the opposite would happen. Growing up, I've been taught that Nigeria, the country, is homophobic. (I was born in America.) But over time, I learned that there's tons of other queer Nigerians; some are out, and some are in the closet 😭.

I'm also not used to this much attention, lol

Guy tied up in chair: uh…theres just one guy over there.

Mafia boss: Yeah. That’s Lil’ Tony. He’s got one of dem conditions where he’s got multiple mooks n’ his head. But when Big Tony fronts you’re gonna be in big trouble.

Fish

Eyes

Simon had already been on edge that morning thanks to a particularly nasty nightmare the night before that had sent him leaping out of bed and screaming, convinced he was back in the SM-13 and about to be devoured by the Blood Eel. And then the Eridian scientist who had stopped by for a visit happened to walk up behind him, not realizing that they were approaching from his blind spot. That, combined with their particularly shrill chirp that happened to sound a bit too much like the creaking of the submarine walls collapsing under the Blood Eel’s jaws, had immediately triggered Simon’s PTSD in a way that had him lashing out blindly, desperately trying to defend himself from what he perceived as a threat.

The good news was that Grace was also there, and was able to intercept Simon before he attacked the poor Eridian. The bad news was that Grace was now pinned to the floor by a wild-eyed, completely-lost-in-the-throws-of-his-flashback former soldier of Eden who was holding Grace’s shirt in his one fist so tightly that the fabric of said shirt’s collar was actually starting to choke Grace a little bit.

Grace of course immediately started trying to calm Simon down, speaking as calmly and slowly as he could, offering reassurances and comfort despite the man hovering over him, so on edge he seemed ready to snap Grace’s neck if he so much as twitched wrong.

“It’s okay. You’re okay,” Grace said, over and over. “You’re safe. You’re okay.”

Simon’s grip just tightened. Grace was getting more nervous, but he continued to try to talk Simon through the panic.

“You’re fine. You’re safe, I promise, Simon. Nothing is going to hurt you,” he insisted. On autopilot, he also added, “And if anyone wants to try something, they’ll have to go through me, okay?”

Simon’s grip didn’t lessen, nor did any of the tension leave his shoulders. But for a second he just froze, as if struggling to comprehend what Grace was saying. Slowly, a little bit of the fear in his eyes faded, replaced by incredulous disbelief. He stared down at Grace sprawled out on the ground beneath him, pointedly glancing at his fuzzy cardigan, house slippers, and his glasses knocked askew.

Catching that look, Grace frowned in indignation. “What? Don’t look at me like that! I can be intimidating! I can fight!”

Simon only stared at him for a couple more seconds. And then he abruptly burst out laughing.

For a moment, Grace could only gape up at him, completely gobsmacked. Simon was laughing so hard that his face was starting to turn red, tears squeezing out of the corners of his eyes, his arm clutching at his stomach like it hurt him. Grace would have been offended, except he was too busy feeling like his heart was trying to do a barrel roll in his chest; he’d never seen Simon laugh this hard before, and it was leaving him kind of stunned and oddly flustered.

“Wow,” Grace murmured, aiming for miffed and missing by a mile. At least Simon was calm now, the moment diffused, and the Eridian scientist safely out of the room. “You can at least pretend to take me seriously.”

Not far. It was still on the lab bench where he'd left it, resting on top of the open notebook he'd been using to record his on-hand supplies. The handle was still pointed towards the supply cupboard he'd been itemizing. At a casual glance, he would have never been able to spot the difference.

But he distinctly remembered setting it down so that it covered up the line that listed the quantity of nitrogen that remained on board. Seeing that number made him think about how much he'd had to use to purge the ship of the loose taumoeba, and then he couldn't stop himself of thinking how Rocky didn't have that option and that he had likely already fallen victim to the taumaoeba running rampant through the ship and eating all of his fuel and leaving him no protection from the deadly radiation of space and Grace was on his way but what if he didn't make it in time and —

So yes. Grace had deliberately covered that number.

But now the coffee cup was sitting just a few millimetres to the left, revealing the point zero three at the end.

It had been moved.

He'd heard a clatter earlier when he'd been busy in the systems corridor doing routine checks, like something had dropped and hit the floor. At the time, he'd frozen in place, his blood turning to ice. There was no one else on the ship with him. No one else who could have dropped something, or made that noise.

Maybe Armando had activated for some reason, and knocked something over? Only, no, Armando went dormant when Grace wasn't in the dormitory, and on top of that, the sound had seemed to come from the lab.

"Hey, Mary?" Grace called out, licking his lips nervously. "What was that?"

"Unknown query," the ship replied pleasantly.

"That, uh. That noise? Did you hear that?"

"There are many noises aboard this ship, Dr. Grace. Please clarify."

"The...the crash?"

"This ship has not crashed. There are no current obstacles on our course."

"No, I meant the...sound in the lab? Just a few seconds ago?"

"...unknown."

He wasn't sure if she meant that she didn't know what the sound was, or if she didn't understand the question. Either way, this seemed to be going nowhere. He glanced back down the corridor towards the lab, his heart pounding and his mouth going dry. He nervously licked his lips again.

And then he very deliberately turned back to the panel on the wall he'd been checking, eyes locking on the clipboard in his hand. "Whelp, that's terrifying. Anyways. Mary, can you change the orientation on this panel? I want to make sure it's still functioning in centrifuge mode."

"Yes, Dr. Grace."

Eventually he'd finished his checks, however. With nothing else to distract him, he'd headed back towards the lab capsule, his clipboard tucked under his arm. He was still a little bit on edge, but the longer that he'd gone without hearing any other strange noises, the more his heart rate settled. Maybe he was just hearing things. Maybe some small piece of space debris happened to bounce off of the Hail Mary's hull, and the noise had sounded like it was coming from the lab. It was probably nothing.

But then he'd arrived back in the lab, and immediately noticed that his coffee cup had been moved.

He stared at the coffee cup. It didn't stare back because it was an inanimate object, but for some reason Grace couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. His skin itched, and he started scratching at the back of his neck, desperately trying to alleviate the sensation.

"Hey, Mary?" he called out, cautiously taking a seat, his eyes still locked on the cup.

"Yes, Dr. Grace?"

He stared at the cup for one long moment. It had been moved. Something had moved it. Something that wasn't him. Mary would know what had done it. She had sensors, monitors. If he asked, she'd tell him.

The coffee cup continued to sit there. Grace pursed his lips, considering.

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Progress.