via http://bomberqueen17.tumblr.com/post/134154146784:
I have a pretty big disconnect between real life and fiction life, as I think isn’t uncommon. I’m totally down with polyamory and actually generally experience an apparently uncommon freedom from sexual jealousy in my life so I’d probably be pretty well suited to it, but despite being sex-obsessed, when it comes down to it I don’t actually have an impulse to actually touch most other humans. I experience romantic attraction a lot more than sexual attraction. It might be a lack of practice, I’ve been in an exclusive monogamous relationship for 15 years with the same person, but even before that I was never very good at wrapping my head around the actual touching-people bits of relationships. 

Which might be TMI but I feel like it’s relevant to my creative processes. And I gotta say, my last big fandom was Stargate:Atlantis, and I wrote a pretty strongly demisexual John Sheppard. It’s not like there’s no excellent poly shipping in that fandom, but I just never got those vibes from him. He’s so damaged, he’s so withdrawn, he’s so incredibly closed-off, and in canon despite being superficially flirty he is so very, very honestly chaste. 

So uh. Everyone is poly because Avengers. That’s really what it is. I guess I’m amused by it; I used to worry when I was writing SG:A that I was projecting and henceforth all my characters would be demisexual and I’d never get the hang of diversity on that spectrum. So– not that demi and poly are actually mutually exclusive! Natasha might be demi, as I write her; she uses sex as a tool and a weapon and rarely actually *desires* it, and is confused when she does with James and with Steve. (And in the choice-bullet series, I have a half-written sequel where she figures out that she’s got really confusing feelings for Sam too.)
via http://ift.tt/1lQfLJ2:
I didn’t mean for this to happen. But I put them in a cab together and Natasha got in in the middle.

James bent and kissed her temple. “I know about the trackers,” he said. “I wear those boots on purpose, Nat.”

“I thought you probably knew,” she said.

Steve was watching them, and she glanced over at him. “Don’t judge me,” she said. “You’d put a tracking device on him too if you had a chance.”

Steve smiled sadly. “I haven’t had a chance,” he said. “I count on you for that sort of thing.” He considered her a moment, then leaned down and kissed her other temple.

“I demonstrate my affection through inappropriately intrusive surveillance,” she said, a little glumly.

“You do better than that,” James said. “You’re why I even bother pretending to be a person, ever.”

“I gotta admit,” Steve said into the moment of silence that followed that, “the same goes for me, Nat.”

“I barely even hang out with you,” Natasha said. “I haven’t done shit for you, Steve.”

Steve put his hand on hers, where it was on his thigh. “You definitely have,” he said.

“You makin’ a move on my girl?” James asked, mouth curling with– it was trouble, that was the best Natasha could do at parsing it.

Steve looked over at him, head tilted at an angle Natasha hadn’t seen much of. “Only if you want me to,” he said.

“Oh, ho ho,” James said, and leaned in. His body was warm all along her side, and he murmured, right in her ear. “Has Steve ever told you about the time we shared a girl?”

“Noooo,” Natasha said slowly, turning her head a little to look at Steve. “Maybe you should tell me that story.”

Steve leaned in a little. “Bucky tells it better,” he said, his voice a low rumble of a murmur, vibrating in his chest along her arm.

“I doubt that,” James said, his lips brushing against her neck as he spoke, barely a hint of voice in his breathing. “I never told anybody that story, Stevie. That was never a braggin’ story.”

Natasha couldn’t help it, she tipped her head up to give him better access to her neck. “I love the way you tell stories, James,” she said, “but you know, there don’t have to be words in this story.”

Steve let out a low rumble of a chuckle. “That’s one way of putting it,” he said.

James kissed her neck, slow and teasing, mostly lips, a nip of teeth and a soothing touch of tongue, working his way slowly up from her shoulder to her throat. She caught her breath and tightened her fingers on Steve’s leg. “I like this story,” she whispered.

“You oughta hear Steve’s side of it,” James murmured.

“Oh?” She blinked dreamily, and slid her gaze over to where Steve was watching James’s mouth from under his eyelashes. “I bet I’d like that,” she said.

Steve’s eyelashes were just unreal, how long they were, and his mouth was shiny and plush and red and she wanted him. “Would you?” he asked, letting his eyes move slowly up from James’s mouth, to her mouth, to her eyes.
via http://ift.tt/1NhBvI1:
This is true!

I just feel a little odd sometimes because I’m not actually polyamorous myself! I’m demisexual which is sort of the opposite! But I have a really good imagination. I just, I dunno, I was trying to do a whole different ‘verse, and it just, I didn’t. It didn’t happen. It wound up the same place. By different means. LOL. I guess I should just embrace that. 

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dragonlady7

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