#physical attraction

[mrsoulstice]

Yes please😛

[itsallmadonnasfault]

Burning Up/Physical Attraction AUS 12" Vinyl

[kaosuqi]

i often see people talk about how aro people having romantic relationships and ace people having sexual relationships should be more well known. i agree, but i wanna take this a step further:

it should also be accepted for gay people to be in a 'straight relationship' and for straight people to be in a 'gay relationship' even if they know full well what their orientation is.

if aros/aces can be in a relationship with someon they arent attracted to, i see no reason why allos cant either. sure, one would be more drawn to a relationship that has attraction. thats completely understandable, but if the opposite were to happen, they shouldnt be harassed by people saying theyre 'faking their orientation'.

'course, i havent seen this kinda thing mentioned at all. not in a positive or negative context, but im just sayin!

[frog-on-top-of-a-log]

Sometimes I kinda forget that I am aroace, but then I see a makeout scene in a movie and think “I probably wasn’t supposed to feel repulsed by this” and then I remember

[enyairl]

The Sallow Speed-Dating Tour: Part Three

Summary: Seeking a "shield" to bury his mounting insecurities and a failed attempt at honesty, Sebastian pivots from the soot of the Highlands to the clinical, perfumed world of Sacharissa Tugwood. Embracing his role as her personal "restoration project," he allows the Hufflepuff to rebrand him—trading his rugged, battle-worn exterior for tailored silk and sharp parts. In this intoxicating game of grooming and high-voltage distraction, Sebastian finds that being "fixed" is a much easier role to play than being the broken boy he truly is.

Masterlist

Characters: Sebastian Sallow, Sacharissa Tugwood.

Word Count: ~650 words

Distraction was a survival mechanism, and for Sebastian Sallow, Sacharissa Tugwood was the ultimate shield. The transition from the soot-stained wreckage of the Highlands to the clinical, perfumed world of Hufflepuff’s most polished student hadn't been planned—it had been a desperate pivot. Sitting on those cold stairs near the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, with the copper taste of blood still fresh, he’d almost found the words to be honest. He’d almost stripped away the mask to lay bare the jagged, terrifying feelings he didn't know how to name.

But honesty required a courage that even the Dark Arts couldn't provide. As the adrenaline of the fight faded, replaced by the crushing weight of his own insecurities and the paralyzing fear of her rejection, his nerve had failed. When Sacharissa had rounded the corner, fanning the air with theatrical distaste at his "essence of a grave," she wasn't just a girl; she was a life raft. He had taken the shot because playing the role of the handsome, flirty Sebastian the school expected was a thousand times safer than being the broken, honest boy his best friend deserved.

Now, weeks into what Ominis had sardonically dubbed the "Sallow Speed-Dating Tour, Episode 3," Sacharissa had turned out to be a high-voltage lightning rod. Unlike Grace’s vapid chatter or Nerida’s unsettling aquatic fixations, Sacharissa was... a challenge.

She didn’t treat him like a "troubled orphan" or a "dangerous project." She treated him like a canvas.

"You look like you’ve been dragged through a hedge backward, Sebastian," she told him one afternoon, her fingers clinical as they brushed the hair from his forehead. "And not in a rugged, adventurous way. In a 'I-haven-seen-a-mirror-since-the-Goblins-struck' way. It’s offensive."

"You’re awfully critical today, Sacharissa," Sebastian noted, though his stomach twisted in a sharp, unfamiliar way as she stepped into his space. "Conducting a formal inspection, or is this just your way of saying you can't keep your hands off me?"

Sacharissa didn't even blink. She reached out, her hand firm as she shoved his shoulders back. "I wouldn't have to be so critical if you didn't stand like a question mark, Sallow. And don't flatter yourself; I’m looking at your eye bags, not your eyes. Ugh, Sebastian... you haven't been using the creams I gave you, have you? Just hold still."

She began applying her "proprietary corrective creams" to the shadows under his eyes with a practiced, clinical hand.

"Oh yes… The famous Tugwood corrective cream… I think I lost it, I think I rather have you apply them on me," he teased, his voice dropping an octave as he felt the cool moisture against his skin. "Sacharissa, are you a witch or a beautician?"

"A bit of both, darling," she purred, her fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary. "And if you don't shut it, I'll use the blend that turns your skin a vivid shade of emerald. It would certainly match your house colors better than this... grey exhaustion you're sporting."

Sebastian didn't just accept the treatment; he leaned into the game. In one fluid motion, he caught her by the waist and pulled her onto his lap, the sudden shift causing the crystal jar of cream to rattle on the nearby stone. He leaned in until their breaths mingled, his lips hovering a mere fraction from hers—close enough to feel the heat, yet teasingly distant. He was playing with her now, testing the boundaries of the very distraction he’d sought, his eyes dark with a challenge that dared her to finish what she’d started. "You’re stalling, Tugwood," he murmured, his breath ghosting over her lips. "Is the treatment really that complex, or are you just finding it difficult to focus this close?"

The clinical correction of his skin and the struggle to discipline his unruly dark hair were merely the opening acts; it wasn't long before Sebastian became a comprehensive restoration project. One Saturday, she marched him toward Hogsmeade—not for the warmth of a butterbeer, but for a mandatory "rebranding."

"If you want to be with me, you have to start showing you actually care about yourself," she’d stated, her tone brooking no argument as she led him directly into the barber’s shop.

Sebastian sat in the chair, feeling the sharp, rhythmic snip of the shears and the cool touch of the straight razor against his jaw. He watched in the mirror as the "wild" version of himself—the boy who looked like he slept in ruins—was carefully pared away. When he walked out, his hair was shorter, styled with a sharp, decent part that actually showed his face and accentuated the harsh, handsome lines of his jaw. He felt strangely exposed, as if the haircut had stripped away a layer of his defenses, yet the newfound attention from passing witches provided a jolt of invigoration he hadn't expected.

Then came the clothes. She marched him into Gladrags, dismissing his scuffed boots and faded t-shirts with a wave of her hand. Under her direction, he traded the rugged Highlands gear for tailored trousers of fine wool and crisp, high-collared shirts that felt like a secondary skin.

"You can't keep dressing like a boy, Sebastian," she whispered, the bells of the shop chiming as she pulled him into a shadowed corner to inspect her work. Her voice dropped to a sexy, teasing purr as she reached up to adjust his new silk tie. She didn't just tuck the fabric; she pulled him down by the silk, forcing him to lean over her. Her lips brushed against his—a fleeting, electric contact—while the intoxicating, clinical scent of lemongrass and white ginger hit him like a spell.

"After all... you are a man, aren't you?"

He closed his eyes, his heart hammering against his ribs in a way that thrummed with a jagged electricity he was desperately trying to ignore. But just as he leaned in to claim the kiss, she let him go with a playful, triumphant smirk. She stepped back, her fingers moving with lightning speed to fix the very wrinkles her pull had just caused, smoothing the lapels of his new coat. She lifted a perfectly groomed eyebrow, peeking at his stunned, breathless reaction before turning to the clerk.

Sebastian didn't mind the "fixing." In fact, he found he was addicted to it. The more she molded him, the more he felt the jagged edges of his own reality being sanded down. It was a beautiful lie, and he was more than happy to live it.

I have nothing to say but: the sallow speed dating tour returns!!! This is part one of a mini Sebastian x Sacharissa series, enjoy.

[dreamingofstars97]

[Excerpt]

Satine stood at the entrance to the hallway—eyes puffy from sleep, hair tangled in knots, her shirt hanging loose around her frame. But in Obi Wan’s eyes, she looked beautiful.

She let out a deep yawn, scratching the back of her head as she glanced around, bleary-eyed and confused.

Satine had changed, Obi Wan noticed—inside and out. And it wasn’t only the new haircut. Something in her eyes, in her expression, had shifted. She’d become softer, more humble. The defiance she once wore like armour was gone, replaced by a kind of quiet resolve—wounded, yes, but wiser.

“Good morning—or should I say, afternoon,” Obi Wan said, already reaching for a second mug on the shelf.

“Afternoon?” she asked, clearly puzzled.

She wandered over to the transparisteel viewport on the far side of the room, nearly pressing her face to the glass. “Why is it so dark outside?”

“Well,” Obi-Wan began, “because ‘outside’ isn’t really outside. We’ve landed inside an abandoned mine.”

“In an abandoned mine,” she echoed, blinking a few times as if trying to make sense of it. “May I ask why?”

“So the ship stays hidden from air patrols,” he explained. “A craft this size is easy to spot from above.”

“Of course,” she said, seemingly satisfied with his response.

A moment of silence passed, and Obi-Wan caught himself staring at her as she gazed out the viewport—a foreign warmth blooming in his chest.

He cleared his throat. “Tea?”

Satine turned her head sharply, as if his voice had broken some spell she’d been under. She blinked, clearly a bit dazed—probably still waking from her long sleep. “Yes, please,” she answered plainly.

Grabbing the pot from the cooktop, he carefully poured two cups of tea—his hands suddenly, inexplicably unsteady.

When he turned, he saw Satine already moving toward the holotable. She sat down slowly, resting her elbows on the edge, still half-tucked inside sleep.

“How long did I sleep?” she asked.

“About twelve hours,” he replied, setting the mugs down gently. “Careful,” he added as he eased into his chair. “It’s hot.”

She smiled softly, bringing her mug close. “Thank you.”

He swallowed dryly, the heat of the mug steady against his palms—keeping him grounded. Keeping him alert.

Obi Wan said nothing, watching as Satine pursed her lips and gently blew across the surface of her tea, the steam curling upward between them.

Those lips—

The same ones he had kissed with such fierce urgency. The taste still lingered in his memory.

But he shouldn’t be thinking about this. It shouldn’t have happened in the first place, and it wouldn’t happen again.

Ever.

“This reminds me of the night we first met,” Satine said, her eyes lowered. “I wasn’t very nice to you then.”

She truly hadn’t been. In fact, Obi-Wan was fairly certain he’d never met anyone so rude in his life.

The admission, however accurate, still caught him off guard—surprising, unexpected—and left him uneasily at a loss for words.

“It’s all in the past now,” he said at last.

“The problem is, it’s not,” she replied, gazing at him from beneath her brow. “We’re still dealing with the consequences of my lack of understanding. And…” Her voice cracked slightly. “I don’t believe I ever apologized.”

Instinctively, he let go of his mug. Almost without thinking, his hands reached for hers across the table.

“Don’t apologize, Satine—”

“I must. I’ve caused a great deal of trouble for you and your master since the beginning. If it weren’t for my stubbornness, none of this would have happened. We’d be on Coruscant by now.”

But we wouldn’t be together.

His heart sank at the thought. Coruscant, then—and now—was always the finish line.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61284910/chapters/173182507

[coinedbank]

306: physical-in-nature (physin)

[PT: 306: physical-in-nature (physin) /end PT]

DEFINITION ⦂⠀An attraction that is considered "physical-in-nature", in feeling, activity, social perception, or similar attributes for it to be considered "physical" whether it is felt wallophysically, or in a distinctly aphys-spec way.

ADDITIONAL ⦂⠀Coined on the 25th of October, 2025.

TAGGING ⦂⠀@c1rcus-of-silliness @in-nature-archive @near-nia-river @orientation-archive @radiomogai

[jamiieeez]

Relationshipstances for emotional, physical and tertiary relationships

emotional relationship

positive | indifferent | repulsed

averse | ambivalent | oscillating

physical relationship

positive | indifferent | repulsed

averse | ambivalent | oscillating

tertiary relationship

positive | indifferent | repulsed

averse | ambivalent | oscillating

Here are my posts to the aemotional flags[link], aphysical flags[link] and atertiary flags[link].