#and part of me believes that a level of my sex repulsion comes from that

[springfallendeer]

I don't follow the TSAMS content because I'm just not interested in it

But certain people in the community need to look up the definition of incest.

For starters, Considering or otherwise viewing someone a relative does not make a relationship with them incestuous. I can consider my roommate my sister, but if we were to wind up romantically/sexually involved, it would not be incest because we are not related by blood.

As an example: Step siblings, who are a part of the same family due to their parents having gotten married, are legally allowed to be in relationships and even get married to each other. Is it weird, because on paper they are siblings? Yes. But is it incest? Nope!

The other fact of the matter is that the characters that we're referring to are animatronics and not people. They cannot share blood relations, which is a requirement for a relationship to be considered incestuous.

This ties back to incest being illegal, by and large, due to the the risk of genetic disorders (on top of high likelihood of grooming and SA on a minor depending on the individuals in question). Which also can't really be applied to animatronics.

Incest is fucked up. It has led to a lot of damage throughout human history and the ones that have largely had to suffer from it are the children born of it, and the children groomed into it.

Do not fucking equate animatronics being in a relationship to incest. It is a sheer defiance of logic and, by and large, a spit in the face to the actual victims of it who will suffer the real world consequences of it.

[umeji-writes]

I would like to talk about the Music Festival arc - aka my favorite Mairuma arc until now. I love them all tbh, this is just very close to my heart for several reasons. [cw: non-suggestive discussion of s*x; if you are a s*x-repulsed asexual person you are very much welcome to interact, but this may not be the post for you, take care and proceed with caution ♡ edit: I'm uncensoring the words from here onwards thanks to a kind anon's suggestion] To make it short, I love that the main theme of this arc is pleasure, and the desire for it. Honestly, it's very horny - but not in a slimy or creepy way, which is sadly quite rare in my experience. The appreciation for pleasure coming from love (also platonic love) is there in several layers. First, the plot itself, as Lilith cries out her desire to find "a love that burns like fire". She is not satisfied by most pretenders, and especially this frame spoke to me:

Because... Well... It's so true. I am an adult, and I had my share of sexual partners. The expressions people make irl are not always aesthetically pleasing, but who cares! We are told to strive to be always attractive, but in those moments of intimacy it's really not important, not as much as being fully present and enjoying the moment! Then, can we talk about Kalego please?

I mean, Nishi here went all out and didn't even try to hide her fascination for ...discipline:

(and to be fully clear: I am NOT implying there is sexual tension between Kalego and his students, I am only referring to him!!!) When I saw the whip I couldn't believe my eyes. Of course in that context it's not used that way, but it's very much recognizable as an adult tool... But more on this later. Finally, I really like that the Misfits are growing up and finding out new things about themselves. They are characterized as high school students (even if we don't know how old they actually are), which is when humans tend to have their first experiences and explore their sexualities. They are building together this beautiful show full of emotions and desire, and honestly performing with other people is really an amazing feeling (I am a former musician and theater actor - let me tell you, every performance was fire). Look at their faces: from here...

...to here.

They are shocked, but happy! And definitely feeling ...feelings. And here is my main takeaway: I am really, really sad that sex is a taboo topic in our society, and when there's something about sex, it's mostly treated in a very bad way. This includes sex scenes in generic-audience movies, which I tend to dislike... I hate that sex is handled like a dirty and secret thing. I hate that sex is mostly treated as something that has to do with power imbalance and taking advantage of someone else, usually men that "want to do stuff TO" women (nonbinary individuals like myself not found) - and too often not in a hot and consensual way. I hate that social media are becoming more and more sex-hostile, because investors fear these topics, and use children as a shield to justify limiting contents for adults as well. I hate that sexual education is mainly reserved for talking about pregnancies and, if the students are lucky, prevention of STDs. Solo or reciprocal pleasure? Consent? Treating it as a normal part of life for many people (and not ALL, again, asexual people exist)??? Naaaah, why do that, when you can make people feel shame and embarassment and perpetuate trauma. Again, I am a grown-up now, and while this is legal and everything, I was conditioned to feel some level of shame nonetheless when talking about it irl (which I am working on). The whip I was writing about before (and the kneeling scene afterward)? It was a revolution in my brain. "So... That's a thing we can do...?"

(like that) I plan on doing some adult drawings in the future, but there's a part of me that resists the idea, because adult entertainment usually involves some level of dehumanization... But you know what? I want to take it back and make it about pleasure and enjoyment as it should be. Tbh, I could write a whole essay on the causes for all of the above and how they interact (patriarchy, capitalism, religions as power institutions, etc.), but this is not the place. So I'll just say that I am really, really grateful to Nishi for including this arc in a manga for a young audience, as those are important years to build a healthy relationship with pleasure and one's own body. And as Sullivan said...

I'm very much convinced that Nishi is doing a great job at sending messages for inclusion and social equality in M!IK, taking the role of educator herself. (Other reasons why I love the Music Festival arc are: Soi's story, Clara and Azz becoming closer, Iruma learning the piano, the appreciation of music itself, the immaculate art and more, but that's for another post!!!)

[onesidedradiostatic]

Intro Post + FAQ!?!?!?

STRIPES TRUTHERS DNI!!!!!!!! (this is a joke)

I'm not replacing my pinned post because I like my pinned post. it's special to me. it describes my blog in a single gif. but I'll link this in my bio.

hi! I think this was long overdue. first of all, introduction!

I'm pink! she/her, 19, filipino-chinese, 🇸🇬

I am an asexual sapphic on the aro spectrum! I'm not repulsed in either department though, I consider myself mostly sex-neutral and romance... idk, ambivalent irl, favourable in fiction.

keep in mind that hazbin hotel itself has a lot of explicit humour, so canon-typical level of that kind of humour should be expected here. however, outside of text-only nsfw jokes, I typically don't post or reblog nsfw art (and IF I did, I would use community labels/appropriate tags). I may also tag certain text-only nsfw joke posts as #suggestive, just as a precaution.

and now the FAQ...

FAQ

Other than one-sided RadioStatic, what do you ship?

I've actually done this before, but decided I'd update it a bit.

cherrivel is only there because of the need for velvette to have someone at the hotel to be obsessed with, refer to this post. it is currently unserious and could easily never come up in my posts I just thought to include it because of that one time I brought it up. other crackships may come up if I find it funny (ie adam x mammon).

this shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone, I do not like any reciprocated romantic alastor ships, I'm not here to police anyone for what they do in fanon, but all I ask is no one send me anything of the sort. I interpret alastor as a repulsed aroace, and the dialogue in which his asexuality is implied in canon implies to me he would never pursue dating (rosie knows alastor wouldn't be dating charlie because he is aroace, which implies she knows he is an aroace that doesn't date**). so that is how I choose to portray alastor in my posts.

**TO BE CLEAR, there IS nuance to this. because action =/= attraction. funny situations such as a fake date with vox as a distraction that he doesn't like at ALL entertain me. but I do not believe he is the type to pursue it under normal circumstances.

regarding qprs... well, as you can see, I really only care for qpr radiorose, but this is the part where it comes down to personal preference. qpr radiostatic largely depends for me, maybe if it's like an au where they never had a falling out or something but otherwise, I don't personally really see it, but that isn't to judge anyone who does. HOWEVER, I do like thinking about their past friendship, here's a post I made before regarding alastor's side on it.

Who's your favourite character?

unfortunately, it is the stupid tv man in my pfp. alastor is my second favourite though if that's not immediately obvious (wow tumblr user @onesidedradiostatic's faves are vox and alastor who could've guessed?)

Do you know [insert pre-series information here]?

I need to clarify, I am NOT a pre-series hazbin fan. I only got into hazbin properly at episode 5-6's release, prior to that I had only watched episode 4 out of curiosity due to twitter discourse. any information I have regarding pre-series stuff comes from the wiki, tumblr posts or anons who have informed me of stuff. my main source of information is the main series, that is how I first consumed hazbin after all.

What the fuck is the "Lucifer's Commissions Saga"?

it all started with an anon talking about the most unrealistic thing about vox owning an alastor body pillow being that alastor was able to be printed on it without glitches. I then dropped a stupid idea I had in my head for a bit about lucifer being offered 50k to make a sexy alastor painting for vox. one reblog later. well. it turned into vox commissioning lucifer for the body pillow. and then a bunch of asks came in related to it and it turned into a saga which is now my legacy. feel free to scroll through this entire thing. also a fanfic of it by ChaoticAce2005 now exists. go check it out. AN ANIMATIC BASED ON ONE OF THE POSTS BY NATAKARANIA ALSO NOW EXISTS. CHECK THAT OUT TOO.

The original post mentions Val commissioning Lucifer for the art for Vox, Val is canonically a talented artist, why would he do that?

in my defence, I kinda forgot about that when I posted the original joke. later asks, I've mended that val HAS drawn for vox before but vox nitpicked too much and val's not always willing to do a fully rendered sexy alastor... so vox has to outsource. and he just happens to do so to the king of hell.

Hey, hey, listen! What if Vox doesn't have a crush on Alastor but wants XXX instead!?

hey, I respect you! I respect your opinion and hc. but this blog is built around that concept specifically, I like vox wanting something he can never have, wanting romance from a guy who literally cannot feel the same way about him. so I'm probably not gonna be as passionate about other takes. but your opinion is valid! I'm just not really sure what you want me to say other than respectfully disagreeing.

Why don't you use RadioSilence for one-sided RadioStatic?

radio silence is the name of another book made by the author of heartstopper, alice oseman (which I heard also has a canon aspec character!). even though it is already a used tag for this ship, I refuse to contribute to flooding the book tag with hazbin hotel. it's already an issue I see even when searching #radio silence with the space, I think those in that fandom should be allowed to search for content without being flooded by content from another fandom. please understand.

I instead use #onewaybroadcast in accordance with this poll. I still use the regular #radiostatic and #staticradio tags in addition to it for more reach and because vox's side still technically counts under it, if anyone doesn't like specifically one-sided radiostatic for whatever reason, they may filter out the specific tag or block me.

read more about the tagging issue here

Why haven't you answered my ask?

you see. once upon a time I used to answer every ask in my askbox. but then trying to come up with intelligent responses to every single ask was kind of draining so I gave up on that. so nowadays I just answer whatever I feel like, if you don't see your ask answered for a while it may still be answered later cause I do go back to old asks sometimes (and sometimes I just forget about asks I'd wanted to answer before). currently my askbox stands at 180ish unanswered asks going back to as early as end of february, that's how much I kinda just gave up trying to clear my askbox. DON'T be discouraged from sending new asks though! I'm actually more likely to answer new ones that I'm able to form a response for immediately.

Wait, I checked your time zone, why are you posting at 2-5am?

I haven't had a normal sleep schedule for like at least 4 years now, don't think too hard about it. and don't rely on my time zone for my active hours, I could be active at literally any hour 😁👍

Can I write a fic about [insert idea posted on this blog before]?

OF COURSE!!! I would actually be honoured if you did!! credit for the idea would be appreciated (although it depends if it's mostly me or my anons' ideas, sometimes it's a combined effort), but otherwise go ahead! and do send it to me if you please, if I have the time or motivation I may read it!

-------------------------------

more may be added at a later time, but this is what I can come up with for now. I've been holding back on this for a while, trying to phrase every single little thing with tact, just understand that a lot of it is personal opinion!

Tags

#osrs.txt - all text posts, including asks #osrs.art - self-explanatory, art done by me #osrs.mp4 - videos which can range from compilations, shitpost edits to high effort edits #osrs.helluva - my helluva boss reactions/liveblogging and related stuff

#radiostatic parent trap subplot - the short series of asks joking about the torn picture vox has reminding them of the parent trap, turning into a crack subplot #projecting irl experiences onto radiostatic squad - where a bunch of anons came together to recount irl experiences with incels and say "yeah this is vox" #the ays - angel dust realising he and alastor are the reason for the vees' focus on the hotel and decides to brand both of them as the ays #lucifer's commissions saga - everyone's favourite as explained above, and also the biggest arc on this blog (my legacy) #alastor's modern sexuality label crisis - started with alastor misinterpreting "asexual" as asexual reproduction, continued on to him misinterpreting more modern sexuality labels #vox's stupid fucking turtleneck - it started with me trying to start up a debate on the colour of vox's turtleneck in the vox and val photo and escalated into people in my notes and askbox trying to gaslight me into thinking the turtleneck has stripes instead of it being a KNITTING PATTERN. this is what the STRIPES TRUTHERS DNI is referring to btw #cursed yellow val - tag name taken from andy-solo1, started as a response to the turtleneck discourse, I believe the turtleneck is a similar colour to val's wings therefore yellow turtleneck truthers are implying val's wings are also yellow #respectless anons - started with an anon trying to correct colour names and saying "not to be velvette..." and ended up with other anons being kin assigned characters #all the fucking parodies - there's been 2 parodies for you didn't know and 2 for respectless by others based on shit from this blog now, this tag is needed #the fanon val killjoy beef - tag made for the made up concept of valentino and katie killjoy beefing, started from this post

[thedomesticanthropologist]

would you be willing to do a little drabble about an asexual bg3 tav(male preferably) who’s hesitant to start a relationship with Gale cause they dont know how to be in a relationship without sex involved. for a game with almost unlimited options i wish there was more nonsexual intimacy and asexual characters. hope this sounds interesting enough to write, have a good day :)

This one gave me pause cause I'm assuming you mean your Tav is Asexual AND sex-negative or sex repulsed. But you're also mentioning that they don't know how to navigate a relationship without sex,

So I'm taking that to mean you have an Asexual Tav (does not experience sexual attraction, does not want sex to be part of their romance) who is either coming from a history of relationships where they had sex anyway, or felt they had to, and would like to enter into a relationship where this is off the table, so that they can fully enjoy the relationship on their terms and within their comfort zone. However, this would be the first time? That they are pursuing this?

So a few things!

Gale is of course, not asexual. He experiences sexual attraction. However, on the topic of would he be keen on a romantic relationship that didn't involve sex? I'm gonna say... ABSOLUTELY 💯

His relationship development with the PC is already a slow burn, wherein until his Orb is stabilized he cannot participate in physical shenanigans. This leaves a nice long window for him and Tav to develop a romantic connection and to bond and get to know each other, and talk about these things.

Tav would have to be straightforward, I think. Gale is extremely receptive to knowledge and information and likely either already knows all about this or would be a very eager student. He would want to know Tavs boundaries and I do not believe he would have ANY issue respecting them.

If Tav isn't sure where their boundaries are, that would be a personal exploration experience. Do they want non sexual intimacy? Are they physical in other ways? Do they wanna cuddle, wash each other's hair, share massages?

Intimacy and sex don't have to go together at all, and many a beautiful, fulfilling, wonderful life long love has been built without sex. Without making this too long, I'll add my thoughts for Gale and Tav

Once the boundary of no sex is set, I don't believe it would be difficult to navigate in the least. Gale is so much more than what he can give in the bedroom, and Tav is too. The two could spend a hundred years exploring each other and the world in so many ways.

Non sexual intimacy during their travels:

- Sharing food, maybe eating off the same plate, feeding each other, sharing wine or drinks

- spending the nights together cuddling, massages, hair scratches, bathing each other if nudity is okay 👍 . These things are what build real intimacy, and they never have to lead to sex

- kisses on the forehead, cheek, hands, shoulder.

- reading the same book together, reading out loud to each other

- acts of service, cooking for each other or making each other's bed, packing your partners things while they sleep in for them

- Sharing fears, insecurity, likes, dislikes, wishes, hopes, dreams,

Look I'm gonna level with ya. Sex is the least interesting part of true love and lifelong relationships. I've been with my partner for 18 years and you know what lights up my heart? When they get up before me and bring me a coffee to wake me up. You know what I do for them? They have chronic pain, and even when I'm tired, I will take an extra 30 minutes sometimes to help work the knots out of their back as best I can.

That is the foundation of love. Gale would be very receptive. Your Tav would be incredibly cherished. No sex required.

[unknownfaceless-ds9]

Tysess headcanons

(mentioned some or referenced some in my story, but still gonna keep them here)

I answered a question lately, in this post and got some more ideas, so I wrote some more and elaborated on some of them.

He's a soft lover:

 I'm sorry, but he is. As stubborn and stoic and stern he can be and has quick tempered he definetly will be, he melts around his s/o and will do anything for them. Anything. Either in the andorian way, or any other way, whatever is more comfortable for them.

 However duty is duty and duty comes first. He struggles a bit at first but he'll get the hang of it

On duty he tries to treat them as he does with everybody else, though there are those small subtle things like brief touch against the small of their back or fingers brushing against each other or just the smallest flick of his antennae…. You know what I mean

He is sometimes a bit hotheaded though he tries to keep it at bay, however he would never slash out on hi s/o. If he ever would, he would apologise profoundly and would feel guilty for weeks

He’s also a bit traditional. Not in the sense that he would enforce gender roles on his s/o, however he would do the classical things like, holding the door open, pay (if it’s a planet where he can) fort he fodd, ask for parents‘ permission for hand in marriage etc. etc.

(Though he would definetely declare ushaan if somebody, especially an andorian, disrespects his s/o. And he'll win)

Tysess trained himself to keep his antennae mostly still, because 1) it does confuse his coworkers and 2) he doesn���t like others knowing directly how he feels

He enjoys cooking:

He may not be a chef but cooking gives him the relaxation he needs after an exhausting day. And it's really good, like, Pike-level good.

In a relationship he would mostly likely be the one to cook. However, offer to cook with him and his heart is basically yours

In Starfleet academy he managed to somehow make a wonderful and mean meal from those tiny, weak student kitchens. Nobody knows why. However his entire floor tried to stay in his good grades

Speaking of Starfleet:

He prefered to keep to himself. He’s a bit of an introvert and is very good at pushing people away. Yet, as soon as you managed to befriend him, that man would die for you. Literally.

Like Picard for example was in the Science division before he switched to commando, I like to believe that Tysess was a security officer. I made a post about his stance in one frame and that just confirmed this with me. Along with another aspect, I’m gonna adress below. 

Tysess struggled to connect to his fellow students, especially since he was one oft he few andorians in the fleet. He made some friends, however that’s just mostly because they were stubborn and decided to befriend that grumpy, blue man

Tysess is a really good singer. If he hadn't joined Starfleet you maybe would've been able to see him on the andorian Broadway.

He was part oft he andorian military[or at least the equivalent o fit]:

I don’t know how military/ task force etc. works on Andoria, that’s not my expertise

However I’d like tot hink that he comes from a family that’s been working in the „army“ for generations.

Tysess knew, that both his sister and his brother did not want to be there, so he kind of sacrificed himself top lease his family. After he few years he realised however that he really didn’t like this life for himself, and, after getting his family’s support, he joined Starfleet

Still, those years left some marks on him (physically and psychologically)

He has a weird enemies-to-friends relationship with Noum. They don’t like each other at all (which is partly due tot he andorian/tellarite relationships) however if there’s gossip, those two bicker faster than you can say „Engage“

He's on the ace spectrum:

Though I depicted him more as sex-repulsed asexual in my story „Body Language“, I more likely headcanon him different. This just fit the story better

I think, Tysess is a demisexual, with a very low libido and sex drive, maybe mixed with a bit of graysexual?

Like, he only is capable to expirience sexual attraction towards people he has a close emotional connection to, but even then it’s rarely

He is not on the arospec, yet it is still difficult for him to fall in love. Mostly because of personal issues

[btw got the idea from the lovely @zierzim]

He was a crew member of the Voyager when she got lost

This actually started off as a joke and „crack idea“ however the more I thought about it, the more I liked it, so I’m keeping it.

I already gave my ideas about it on this post

That's it for now. Feel free to add something :)

[sheisalivingchild]

Who's afraid of a YA villain protagonist?

Creating the Hunger Games posts I want to see in the world by starting a sideblog...

I've been seeking out review and reaction content for TBOSAS for the last few weeks, and while I've seen a lot of what basically amounts to flag planting about whether or not it's okay to feel sympathetically towards Snow, I feel like there's a hesitancy to actually engage with his character. Even for people coming down on the side of "yeah it's obviously fine," the trend seems to be to keep him at disavowable arms' length. To me, especially while reading the book, and especially in the first sections, I found Coryo to be really relatable in a lot of ways. There's clearly a reason Suzanne Collins felt she could tackle a close-third perspective with this character, and I don't believe it's because she wanted to venture into the dark and twisted mind of a psychopath; quite the opposite.

(Am I telling on myself here? Or do we all experience the world within a bubble of subjectivity? Anyways,)

It's pretty easy, in my opinion, to extend empathy to Coryo on an every-day, visceral level. He's fearful about his future, he's afraid of being ostracized by his peers, he's hungry. With the book laying out his thought process in a straightforward and incremental manner (something I think Collins really excels at as a writer), I saw reflected back at me many of the impulses within myself that I'm most ashamed of; parts that are self-consciousness, cowardly, selfish, resentful. Coryo's hyper-vigilance in social settings jumped out to me right away, and was at times comically relatable. His attention at every moment is concerned with how he is being perceived by others and how his actions will be interpreted, which seems to me like a familiar struggle to pretty much anyone who has been a teenager! Or really anyone who has made themselves visible in a social or online space. Coryo has humanitarian impulses, too, but he's calculating, and never acts unless he can justify a behavior as 'correct.' He doesn't want to stand out. The repulsion he feels towards Sejanus, who wears his heart on his sleeve, comes from the projection of that very fear - Why are you rocking the boat?! Don't you know what they'll do to you?? We know what happens to people who are loud and different; they are bullied, they are knocked down and ostracized. And, in Coryo's case, coming from a place of privilege makes that fear even more acute. He doesn't know what it's like to be deemed an outsider, and he doesn't want to find out.

So, Snow is ambitious, yes, but above all he's driven by a desire for safety and stability, for things to return to "normal" (i.e. when his family was rich and powerful), and an intense fear of what will happen if the tenuous stability of the Capitol is breached. And I get it! Last time that happened, he lived under siege and his family lost everything! Stability in some form is something we all need on a base level, but that desire expresses itself in a myriad of ways; some of which are more well-adjusted than others. Being privy to Coryo's thoughts, fears, and gut reactions makes it easy to understand why he makes the choices that he does, even if we recognize them as wrong.

We see in the book many others ways in which his fears lie underneath his worst impulses, even when they are past the point of being relatable. Alongside his fear of social difference/social upheaval comes a fear of pollution (put inversely, an obsession with purity), which feeds into his misogyny and his bigoted attitude towards the districts. He feels shame and disdain at thought that his cousin may have had to resort to sex work to keep them fed. The question of Lucy Gray's previous relationships drives him to jealous madness. When he starts falling for Lucy Gray, his internal justifications reveal a lot; rather than interrogating his preconceived ideas about citizens outside the Capitol, it's easier for him to single her out an an exception, inventing reasons for why she should be considered more Capitol than District. Dr. Gaul is able to stoke and prey upon these insecurities, persuading him that humanity will always be on the brink of collapse and corruption, and the only solution is to exert totalitarian control.

I think what TBOSAS does wonderfully is illustrate that choosing safety and stability can put us at odds with our compassion. That being human on the inside isn't enough to spare us from villainy; we also have to expand outside of ourselves, resisting judgement of others and choosing to protect each other. That choices made out of fear and out of selfishness are what keep the status quo in place and allow evil to perpetuate.

[vivisheadspace]

yknow I was wondering why conjoinment is like a "thing" for some people. do you think it stems from some form of separation anxiety, or a desire for that level of intimacy? I know it's some real armchair psychology, but I think it's kinda fun to think about stuff like that I guess, lol

Speaking from personal experience, I can say with absolute certainty that separation anxiety played a role in mine! I've heard enough horror stories about my separation anxiety as a baby to know that the idea of "someone always being here with me no matter what" would have been very appealing to me. Even today, if it was possible, I'd prefer to live stuck to a close friend or two than have to leave them physically for so long.

Also, talking from my asexual perspective, I feel like there's a lot of appeal to the interpersonal dynamic that'd come from the restrictions of conjoinment! Consider a whole body and the physical sensations that come with it being shared - to me it would ease or even fully circumvent the barriers that come from my sex repulsion. On top of that, it's a type of intimacy that doesn't come with any preestablished social expectations, so to indulge with someone inherently already means only what you want it to!

Additionally is the representation of plurality. In terms of multiple identities/parts/what-have-you in a system, it can make sense to find appeal in, and desire to represent yourself as, a conjoined figure. Many of my fellow plural friends in this circle find comfort and "gender" in this type of form, though the intricacies there too vary from system to system!

Of course, there are even more facets to this interest too! One day, I think it would be nice for this interest in whole to be more professionally examined. Fetishes and their tangents are massively under-studied, and I believe have the potential to tell us a lot about the human experience! Thank you for the inquiry, and I hope I didn't talk both of your ears off simultaneously, haha...!

[writteninscarlet]

🖤 ;; @bothsidesofaquestion

send 🖤 and my character will answer about yours. ;; accepting

attractiveness:

repulsive / hideous / ugly / not attractive / unappealing / not unattractive / meh / no preference / ok / mildly attractive / nice looking / cute / adorable / attractive / pleasant on the eyes / good looking / hot / sexy / beautiful / gorgeous / hot damn / would tap that / perfect / godlike / holy fuck there are no words.

"Kurt is very much HIMSELF. Perhaps he is still learning who that is, and trying to find and truly accept himself - but when I look at him I see him, and I like what I see." A soft smile curled up her lips, almost thoughtful. "I do find him attractive. He is a good man, and I think he is attractive as he looks. He has a presence no one else does. Different is not bad, simply different and everyone has different tastes. And I like Kurt."

personality:

grating / irritating / frustrating / boring / confusing at best / awkward / unreasonable / psychotic / disturbing / interesting / engaging / affectionate / aggressive / ambitious / anxious / artistic / bad tempered / bossy / charismatic / appealing / unappealing / creative / courageous / dependable / unreliable / unpredictable / predictable / devious / dim / extroverted / introverted / egotistical / gregarious / fabulous / impulsive / intelligent / sympathetic / talkative / up beat / peaceful / calming / badass / flexible.

"Kurt is an interesting person. I think there is plenty more that I could learn about him. Perhaps he can be reckless and impulsive, but I do not know any member of the X-Men who does not fall into those categories." Those words could also be entirely true of herself. "He is charming and sweet. I enjoy his company. He has a lot to offer the world."

how likely they would have sex with them:

not if they were the last person on earth and the world was ending / fuck no! / never / no way / not likely / not sure / indifferent / I’m asexual / maybe / probably / it depends / fairly likely / likely / yeah sure / yes / would tap that / hell yes / fuck yes! / wishing that could happen right now / as many times as possible / we are already having sex.

"I find him attractive, and I like his personality. I am always... wary of ruining any friendships," she mused, "But if we are putting that aside, or saying that our relationship would only strengthen, then absolutely. I would have sex with Kurt. I feel comfortable with him, and I think we have chemistry. I have no doubt we would both have fun."

level of friendship:

never in a million years / worst of enemies / enemies / rivals / indifferent / neutral / acquaintance / friendly toward each other / casual friends / friends / good friends / best friends / fuck buddies / bosom buddies / practically the same person / would die for them / true friends / my only friend.

Wanda gave a warm smile, remarking, "I think of him as a good friend. I feel I could trust him, and open up to him. I believe him to be quite a genuine person with a lot of potential." He was a good person, and she enjoyed his company. Could they be closer? Of course. But maybe that would come with time.

first impression of them:

i hate them so much / i don’t like them / i don’t trust them / they annoy me / they’re weird / I’m indifferent / meh / they seem alright / they’re growing on me / truce / I think I like them / I like them / I’m not sure if I trust them / I trust them / they’re cool / they’re genuine / I think we’re going to get along / I really like them / I think I’m in love / oh fuck they’re hot / I love them.

"Well, see, we first met on opposite sides, did we not? At which time I did not trust him nor like him. But if we can move on from that part of our past and go to when we first met as ourselves and not influenced by our teams, I did like him." He was smart and witty. He came across well. "My first impression was that we could get along - but that there was a lot to do to make up for my past and a lot I had to learn about him."

current impression of them:

i hate them so much / i don’t like them / i don’t trust them / they annoy me / they’re weird / I’m indifferent / meh / they seem alright / they’re growing on me / truce / I think I like them / I like them / I’m not sure if I trust them / I trust them / they’re cool / they’re genuine / I think we’re going to get along / I really like them / I think I’m in love / oh fuck they’re hot / I love them.

"I am learning more about him all the time, and I am enjoying finding out more about him. I think there's a lot still to learn, but I like spending the time with him. And I'm willing to put in the effort to become closer to him. He means a good deal to me at this time."

[margridarnauds]

1, 9, and 23 for the fic writer asks ❤

Thank you!

What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year? How did it turn out and would you do it again?

This year's been slow for fics, since I've had a very busy time at my job, but I feel like I've been continuing to try to push the envelope -- working with new fandoms, new characters, and new styles. With Þe Grene, I think that I continued on with a trend that I started in A Soft October Night of embracing two things: Surrealism and my own discomfort with sex.

In fandom, it feels like there's a constant pressure to write sex scenes, and I do think that sex scenes can be important to developing character relationships, as one aspect of the human condition (even if it isn't the be-all, end-all.) I enjoy a well written sex scene! And I can give you an in-depth analysis of how various characters get it on. (And it isn't entirely clinical on my part, either.) But, for me, on a personal level, even though I'm not sex repulsed or even fully asexual (I feel like I lean into demisexuality or gray asexuality if anything), I've never gotten over that feeling of being self-conscious when it comes to WRITING them. And there are two strategies -- one is to keep writing sex scenes, which I've done for...years, at this point, the other is to lean into the discomfort, which I have a lot more fun with. And the Green Knight is such a trippy film to begin with that it really lends itself to surreal, uncomfortable fic, and I've had a lot of feelings about adaptation and homoeroticism in the film that it felt like a natural conclusion. So I leaned heavily into the discomfort, as well as the themes of identity and duality that are already there in the film itself.

And, honestly? We're at 103 hits, 23 kudos. Not bad, imo. No comments but, honestly, I'm not certain that it's the kind of fic that invites comments -- I think it's the kind of fic that you read and then sit with. If someone WANTS to comment, wonderful, grand, etc., but I also understand why people haven't, and that they haven't means, imo, that I nailed what I wanted to do. I wanted it to be an odd combination of sexy, disquieting, and oddly tender, and I think I succeeded. So I believe that overall, I succeeded, and I'm proud of the result.

9. What fic meant the most to you to write?

Just about every fic that I wrote this year was near and dear to my heart, specifically because every one required a level of sacrifice to create them when I was faced with various professional demands. But the one that probably meant the most on a personal level was Metempsychosis. Because, despite being a one-shot, it took me over five years to write it. I wrote it for a fandom event that never really took off. Most of the people who were in the fandom when I wrote it are gone. I haven't heard from them in years. The fandom itself looks wildly different from how it used to look, and I know next to no one in it. And it's for a fandom that I've never written for before and will probably never write for again, a character study of a female character who doesn't get all that much attention, with no focus on romance. There was no way it would ever NOT be a passion project, and I was fine with that.

I wrote out most of it by hand, in a single flurry of activity, in the middle of Heathrow Airport in the morning, while I was going home from a conference, after taking a 5 hour bus ride and getting into said airport at 3 AM. I was tired, I was jet-lagged, and it was the perfect time and place to just...finally let it all out. All my feelings about Nannerl and her place as a historical figure, the way that her story is written off as a tragedy, and all my feelings about creating art when the people who you used to create it for are gone, with me trying to come to terms with those questions at the same time as she was. It was very much a labor of love and very much a personal story to me.

23. Share the final version of a sentence or paragraph you struggled with. What about it was challenging? Are you happy with how it turned out?

"Romeo, I've been waiting up for you for hours, what is it?"

Romeo held her close, resting his head on her shoulder while entwining his long legs with hers. "Nothing," he murmured. "I'm just glad we have the chance to love one another."

She flipped over to face him, her face searching his, her fingers gently hovering over his cheek, and he didn't know what she'd find there, given that she seemed to be able to read him in a way that no one else seemed to. Then, she wrapped her arms around him, clinging onto him like her life depended on it and, perhaps, it did. Perhaps she felt the same shadows at the edges of her vision that he did, perhaps, when they both shared the night with one another, they shared the darkness as well as the starlight. All he knew was that he was completely, happily grateful to this girl, and he'd gladly spend the rest of his life proving that.

(From Qu'as-tu fait de fou dans ta vie?)

So, this isn't a case of just an entire paragraph that was hard to write, but an entire sub-plot. As an author, I tend to have a very one track mind. I'm not proud of it, but it's true -- I go in with a specific plotline, I come up with ways to get from Point A to Point B to Point C, I bring in other characters on an as-needed basis, and that's it. I don't like juggling side-plots. But, for this fic, I quickly realized that I would need to bring in more of Romeo and Mercutio, especially strengthening Romeo's plotline. Because if I under-developed Mercutio, it would make him look like an unsympathetic jackass (which, tbh, is where I tend to lean in canon) and if I underdeveloped Benvolio and Escalus, it would look like they were selfish, immature idiots who were sneaking around without caring that it would hurt Mercutio. And if I underdeveloped Romeo, it would look like platonic bonds are just stepping stones to romance, with you ditching them the second you fall in love with someone. None of which I wanted to do. So, I buffed up Mercutio's scenes and, instead of giving Romeo one or two scenes, I let him become (remain) a major part of the narrative, including this scene where he essentially goes to call out Escalus for dumping Benvolio. And it works both to show Romeo's close bond with Benvolio, Romeo's own character development, and also the way that both Romeo and Juliet are paralleling Escalus and Benvolio. (And also giving Juliet some screentime, because I always feel bad when my girl isn't given a chance to shine.)

Overall, I think I did a good job, I felt like the chapter really fit into the flow of it, and this paragraph in particular did a great job of capping off that particular part.

[negasonicimagines]

Revelation; Part One

warnings/kinks: a/b/o (if you’re penis-repulsed this isn’t for you), smut (duh), brief daddy kink, even briefer mommy kink, cum-eating, cum-marking, cockwarming? (does it count if it’s a/b/o?), light bloodplay, borderline somniphilia (consensual), poisoning, suicidal ideation, allusions to cheating, mentions of conversion therapy, vague mentions of s*xual ass*ult (it doesn’t actually happen in the story, it’s just referred to a lot due to the nature of this universe)

uh… this is another one of those stories that’s just kinda Heavy, please be careful & don’t continue reading if doing so is unsafe for you. I have a variety of other works that don’t have such intense themes, which you can find on my masterlist!

request (+details): Omegaverse: Alphas Yukio and Ellie with a beta reader, but it turns out that reader is a late-bloomer omega who goes into her first heat unexpectedly. / Omegaverse: The setting could be anywhere. The three of them waking up with reader burning hot, believing to be sick but is actually going into heat. The reader could be by themselves when it happens and her alphas come home to a omega in heat / I can’t get this omegaverse idea out of my head, and I hope you don’t mind me telling you this. Reader being alone and confused when her heat came, her alphas gone on a mission. During the time they were gone, Reader made a nest of her alphas’s clothes out of instinct on their bed. By the time Yukio and Ellie returned, Reader is a hot mess from trying to get off, moaning their names and begging for her alphas to help her for she don’t know why she feels like this and is scared.)

synopsis: After Wade discovers you're dealing with suicidal thoughts, he takes it upon himself to help you out, leading to one disaster after another.

author’s note: thank you so much to the lovely anon who requested this for spending so much time with me & making sure everything was juuuust right! Fun fact: we pined, started dating, and broke up, started dating again, and broke up again all before this was published 🙃 sorry everybody, it’s been a rocky road for the past… forever.

Standing guard after school for a few extra bucks is a pretty sweet deal, you have to admit. You mostly just sit around with a pair of binoculars munching on your snack of choice, using a gun loaded with tranquilizer darts to drop anyone who threatens the safety of the school and its residents. If given permission, or an order to do so, you can use your bow and arrow to really take down your enemies.

You’re pretty lucky in life overall, you also have to admit, with two alpha girlfriends and a variety of friends and acquaintances, not to mention the advantages your mutation gives you.

It makes you feel even more guilty for what you’re really thinking about right now. Not Ellie, not Yukio, not keeping an eye out for threats, nothing but a simple question:

Would it be more efficient to slit your wrists with the point of one of your arrows, or to fling yourself from the top of this turret? Which would hurt worse? You look from the sharp arrow you hold in your hand to the plush grass below, managed by some of the other students.

It’s far cheaper to pay students to maintain the yard and house, not to mention it gives students like you a way of earning the kind of spending money that other students receive from their parents or from jobs in town. Your post would be snatched up in no time if you were to pass.

Speaking of parents.

Your father’s exact words to your mother were “I hate that you use a highschool mistake to keep me trapped with you forever!” the last time you happened to hear them argue. They were no longer invited to parent-teacher conferences after that.

It’s a fine reason for him to be angry, but, unfortunately, you’re the highschool mistake he was talking about. The one he’s always talking about whenever they fight. Maybe if you were gone, he’d finally be free. Maybe you’d finally be free from his resentment. He, fortunately enough, rarely lashes out at you directly; however… There’s always been a distance.

Would he love you more if you were gone? If you saved him from… Well, you? You’ve always wanted him to love you, to look at you with something other than anger or resentment. Would he finally be proud of you, for owning up to every horrible thing you are and have done by paying the ultimate price? Would everyone?

You’re holding the bladed tip of the arrow right against your wrist, almost like a normal person might hold a bracelet to their wrist -- trying it on for size, without really thinking about it.

Suddenly, though, Wade’s here. And he’s definitely thinking about it. He yanks the arrow out of your hand, accidentally snapping the wood that makes up its length.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“I- Uh, I don’t know,” you mumble, embarrassed, because you honestly don’t. Being alone with your thoughts gives them the space to grow from their poisoned roots into something dark you don’t really recognize as yours.

“You- You don’t know?!” Wade questions, and the unusual severity of his tone stuns you to the point of laughter. “This isn’t fucking funny, what the hell is wrong with you? Why were you-?! What were you-?! What the fuck are you doing?!”

“I’m standing guard. What the fuck are you doing?” you echo dryly, resorting to quips to avoid telling him any more than he already knows.

“I’m freaking out! I can’t kill you for apparently wanting to kill you, so that’s all I can do! I thought you were on antidepressants!”

“I am. Have been for years. They don’t cure depression, they make it easier to manage.”

“Apparently fucking not! Come on, let’s go talk to somebody and get you an appointment with a psychiatrist. You’ve been on the same prescription all these years, right? Maybe you just need your dosage upped.” Wade’s not asking, he’s telling, his hand wrapped around your bicep to pull you along, although his grip isn’t as tight as you’d expect for a man of his stature, let alone an alpha.

Why does he care so much? He’s always so gentle, even when you piss him off like this. Tears well up in your eyes but you blink hard. You know he’s been through worse. That most people here have. You have no right to cry.

Wade yells at a surprised Charles Xavier until an appointment is set up, which goes pretty well. Four days after that incident, you meet with the psychiatrist who agrees that upping your dosage is the smartest decision, frankly, she’s surprised it wasn’t done sooner. And, after about a week of your new dosage level, you’re feeling better than ever.

Way better.

“You… You’d really wanna do that? For everyone to know I’m yours?”

Ellie nods, cheeks darkened. You’re straddling her, and the two of you have been trading heated kisses with Yukio. Who would’ve thought more of the medication you were sure killed your libido before you could even develop one would be what rescued it?

“Of course we would. I know you don’t like to stereotype, but some of the stereotypes have truth to them. We’re… Territorial,” Yukio reminds you.

“I’m… A beta,” you remind her in a teasing echo of her tone.

“Our beta,” Ellie cuts back in. “Absolutely perfect.”

“Even if I’d rather not let you guys, y’know…” Your hand rubs at the space between your neck and your shoulder - where they’d likely mark you with their teeth - nervously. “...today? Or go farther than what we’re doing right now?”

“Of course, baby! The fact that you’ve even done this much…” Yukio trails off, looking over you. Your lips are swollen and still slightly parted as you continue to pant a little. The top few buttons of your (well, borrowed from Ellie) flannel are undone.

“We’re so grateful, and so proud of you,” Ellie continues, drawing your attention back to her. “We’re willing to wait as long as you need, even if that waiting only ends because you’ve decided that being with us like that isn’t something you want.”

“I do. I always have, I just… I don’t know.”

“The feeling’s still there, in your stomach, right?” Yukio wonders.

“Yeah, a little. It’s like… I know it’s not wrong, but something doesn’t feel quite right. Maybe I should just try to ignore it, I mean, you two have needs-”

“Hey. You know better than that, Y/N. We don’t, okay, babe? Not like that. We wanna have sex with you, not- Not hurt you. You understand that, right?” Ellie reassures you.

“I do, I just feel bad for being such a- I don’t know, a tease?”

“We love you. As in, you. If you forced yourself to do something you didn’t want to, just for us, how would we forgive ourselves?” Yukio says what she’s said a million times, but every time it surprises you. You tend to see yourself as only being valuable in what you can offer others— protection, a laugh, some good advice every now and then —you never expect anyone to care for you outside of that. But here they are. Absolutely perfect.

And you were thinking of flinging yourself off a tower a couple weeks ago. Should you tell them? They just think you went for an overdue checkup, which is technically the case. You don’t know what’s worse, hiding it or telling them. You’ll have to talk to Wade, he’s good at giving advice. Might not be good advice, but he’s definitely good at giving it.

“Everything okay, sharpshooter?” Ellie hands gently squeeze your hips to get your attention.

You blink back out of your thoughts, smiling a little and blushing at the nickname.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Sorry, I just zoned out. I’ve had a lot on my mind lately.”

“Everything okay?” your alphas ask, again, in unison. Your alphas. They probably couldn’t handle it if you had a problem they couldn’t solve, the guilt of not being able to provide for you would overwhelm them.

“Yeah, totally,” you reply, because it is, now, especially here with them. Ellie starts to button up your flannel.

“Oh, we don’t have to-”

Ellie gives you a pointed look, then looks down at her crotch, then back up at you. Your blush deepens.

“Yeah, I’m guessing a cold shower’s in order,” Yukio agrees. “El, you can go first.”

“We can’t go together?” Ellie asks.

“Well, I don’t wanna leave Y/N alone. Our brave little beta did a lot more than usual. Don’t want you to feel used, baby,” Yukio explains to you both.

“Oh, duh,” Ellie agrees. You give her a quick smooch on the forehead before dismounting her and allowing yourself to be pulled into Yukio’s arms. Ellie grabs some clean clothes and heads off. As soon as the door shuts, Yukio giggles, and you look to her with a curious, confused expression.

“Now you’re all mine to cuddle.” Yukio gloats, kissing the top of your head. “Mm… You smell really good, babe. New shampoo?”

“Ish, yeah,” you agree, despite the fact that you started using it nearly a month ago at this point. Maybe the body heat you built up from the makeout session made it smell stronger, though.

Yukio keeps sniffing you, but you don’t call her out on it. She’s a little bit quirky, sure, but there’s no need to make her feel self-conscious about it when the tickling sensation feels kinda nice. She tosses in a few soft presses of her lips against your skin, too, so it’s not like she’s the only one who benefits.

Yukio eventually stops this, though, instead requesting to scent you. You’ve told the girls before that they don’t have to ask, but they— especially Yukio —seem to prefer to. You figure it’s likely to reassure them that you not only tolerate but appreciate their alphahood.

“I love you, you know that? Not just ‘cause you make me smell like petrichor. I’m surprised Ellie doesn’t spend all day huffing your scent, I… I know I would, if I could smell it.” You didn’t mean for the sad envy to ring so clearly in your words, but it’s as sharp as a knife, cutting deep enough to make Yukio gasp softly with sympathy as she rubs your wrist against her scent gland, eyes snapping open.

“Well, next time it’s about to rain, we’ll go outside, then. Every time it’s about to rain,” Yukio insists. “Who- Who told you?”

“Wade. I was just curious. He said Ellie smells like a campfire, the scent even clings like it. He even said I smell a little weird. Most betas smell like something, but I’m just… A blank canvas.”

You feel her rumble a bit with a growl, and her arms wrap tightly around you… Protectively? You blush.

“Y-Yukio?” you nervously ask, caught off guard. Ellie’s usually more of the growling type. Yukio’s pretty good about keeping her possessiveness and any other “negative” alpha traits in check. This side of her doesn’t come out often.

“What was he doing that close to you?” she snarls protectively, and if the growl wasn’t enough to get your heart racing, that was. “Sm- Smelling you?”

“Yukes, Wade’s the same age as my parents. Honestly, he’s- He’s kinda- He’s nice to me. We’re friends. I think if he was going to hurt me, he would’ve done it by now. You two keep forgetting I’m just a beta. No one wants a piece of this pie except for you and Ellie.”

“You’d be surprised at the way some alphas… It’s sick, but they- Because betas, you know, they don’t really produce slick like omegas do, and they don’t have quite as much give, uh… So, some alphas, um, they… Just let me hold you, okay?” Yukio requests. “I can’t talk about it, it’ll make me too mad.”

“I respect that. Thank you. I, uh, I didn’t realize that at all, so thank you for helping me be even safer,” you reassure her. She’s trembling. “Do you want me to hold you, instead?”

“No, no, this will make me feel better. I just… I love you. Can you just…? Just- Just say you’re mine.” This is a request Yukio has semi-often. When she feels weak in comparison to other alphas, when she feels overshadowed by Ellie, any time she needs reassurance or is just feeling bad, she’ll probably ask. You get it, being hers (and Ellie’s, of course) makes you feel better, too.

“I’m yours, Yukio. Always yours. You make me so happy, both of you. Happier than- You make me feel so-“ You get a bit choked up. These girls, these alphas… They’re so important to you.

“Oh, no, baby, please don’t cry,” Yukio implores, watching your eyes water. You turn so that your face doesn’t just rest on her chest but is buried in it.

“It’s just that no one ever loved me before you two. No one, ever. Not my parents, not my ’friends,’ no one. I don’t know why I’ve been so emotional lately, I’m sorry.”

“No one at all?” Yukio questions, but that’s the missing puzzle piece, she realizes. You’re always treating hers and Ellie’s love for you like it’s something you have to earn, no matter how much they insist being yourself is enough. She fully grasps now that it’s never been enough before.

She holds you even tighter.

“Mm-mm,” you confirm, shaking your head a little. “You and Ellie just mean the whole world to me. And- And��� Wade’s my friend, too. Can I still, y’know, spend time with him?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. I just- He’s a nice guy, but… I don’t want him to put you in danger. You can handle yourself, though. Can’t you, sharpshooter?” Her fingers trickle up your ribs as she says the nickname, making you giggle and squirm.

“Absolutely, but it is nice to have two strong, sexy alphas take care of me instead every now and then,” you admit, albeit a bit teasingly, blushing softly. You turn back so that you can see her adorable face.

“Really?” Yukio asks, but she knows.

“Really,” you agree with a smile.

“I’m yours, too. You know that, right?” Yukio checks, fiddling with your hair a bit.

“Mhm. It’s nice to hear you say it like that, though.”

“I can think of other ways you might like to hear it,” Yukio flirts.

“Yeah, you think so? Show me,” you tease back.

“I will…” Yukio trails off as she trails her finger along your jaw, tipping your head up to the perfect kissing angle and- “Eventually, little beta.”

“I- I’m taller than you,” you weakly protest.

“Your breath still hitched,” Yukio reminds you with a giggle and a gentle tap on the tip of your nose.

You stutter a little more before giving up, burying your face again and whining.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I just can’t help myself. You’re too cute,” Yukio half-heartedly apologizes, still chuckling to herself as she strokes your back.

Ellie returns from her shower, inky tendrils of hair ruffled around but with no product in.

“She’s asleep?” Ellie asks, sounding a bit disappointed, but there’s still a significant amount of fondness in her tone.

“She’s not,” you mumble back, and both girls chuckle, Yukio untangling herself from you. You can’t help but pout a little, already missing the bubblegum-haired alpha.

“I know Yukio’s your favorite, but you could at least act a little bit happy to see me,” Ellie half-jokes, and you smile, pulling (though she doesn’t give any resistance) the girl back into your bed. She holds you the same way Yukio did, but you don’t really mind the lack of variety.

“You’re both my favorite,” you argue. Ellie takes a deep breath, likely taking in the way you’re completely embraced by Yukio’s scent.

“I don’t think that’s how favorites work,” she chuckles.

“Out of all the people in the world, you two are both my favorite,” you insist. She takes the hand you have resting on her ribcage and holds it inches from her scent gland. “Please,” you say, before she can even ask. Ellie takes a whiff again.

“Did she leave anywhere untouched?” She wonders.

“N-not really,” you stutter, because now you’re thinking of where she didn’t touch you.

“Well, she’ll have to share a little, then,” Ellie says.

You hum with delight as she scents you.

“You make a new friend?” Ellie questions.

“Huh?”

“You smell… Different,” she responds, looking at you… Well, differently. “Like roses.”

“I have a new-ish shampoo?” You offer, but that just seems to intensify the look.

Your phone rings. It’s Wade. You wriggle out of Ellie’s loose hold on you, answering.

“Hey, you know how I’m your academic advisor?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Well, apparently, thwarting your suicide attempts isn’t my only job. I also have to tell you when they need you in the office, which is now.”

“Seriously?! I didn’t even throw that pencil at Richard, and even if I did, he deserved it for being such a-“

“Oh, right! Should’ve opened with the good news. Your parents are here to visit.”

“What?! That’s-“ You sigh, not wanting to alarm Ellie any more than you already have. “Okay. I’ll be there. Just give me a second to get dressed.”

“Wow, no shame at all. I salute you. Toodles!” Wade hangs up before you realize he misunderstood you.

“What’s wrong?” Ellie asks.

“Nothing, just… My parents are here.”

“Your… Parents?”

“Kind of have to have those to exist, usually,” you remark, and she snorts.

“I know- I- Well, we’ve known each other for a while, and you don’t really talk about them, so I sort of assumed…” Ellie trails off.

“Oh, um, yeah, no, they’re very alive,” you confirm with an awkward chuckle.

“Right. I’ll go get ‘Kio, and we’ll all go, okay?”

“Uh- Um- Yeah.”

“What is it?”

“My parents, they kind of… They- I love you. And I’m not ashamed of you.”

“But they’ll be ashamed of you,” Ellie understands.

“I haven’t seen them in so long, they don’t even know that I like girls, let alone that I’m dating two, or that they’re both alphas… I want you and Yukio to come with me, but, if they start to- If they’re how they are, I-“

“Give my energy to helping you instead of hurting them,” Ellie uses Piotr’s words.

“Perfect,” you agree, and Ellie smiles back, but it falters. You didn’t mean to worry her so much.

“I’ll go get Yukio. You get changed, okay?”

“Mhm,” you agree, and she heads off to the bathroom. You steal one of Ellie’s band tees and an oversized cardigan of Yukio’s for comfort, finding a pair of high-waisted bottoms to tuck the tee shirt in. You throw on a pair of sneakers, and when the girls emerge from the bathroom, you pop in to freshen up.

Once you’re done, Yukio’s caught up on the situation and the three of you make your way to the front offices.

Wade meets you outside.

“Oh em gee, Y/N, you’ll never believe it, I actually went to high school with both of your parents.”

“Uh… Cool?” You respond, because you’re not entirely sure how to.

“Yeah, uh, I get now that it’s probably not really good news that they’re here, huh? No wonder I found you doing that the other day.”

“Doing what?” Yukio and Ellie ask, though for some reason, Ellie’s is tinged with suspicion, maybe even anger.

“I- Listen, it’s not a big deal, I got my prescription updated and all that good stuff, okay?” You prime them. “I was thinking about killing myself the other day and Wade caught me.”

“Thinking?! You’re gonna call holding the fucking tip of an arrow to your wrist thinking?!”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Ellie sounds as angry as Wade does, but she looks pained. This is why you didn’t tell them.

“Hey, she doesn’t need this right now,” Yukio argues, but she looks hurt, too.

“I mean, I was just considering if it would be more painful than jumping off of the turret,” you mumble, your defense embarrassingly weak.

“We’ll talk about this later,” Ellie decides, and Yukio nods. You three follow Wade to Xavier’s office. Wade breezes in, but you’re practically stuck in the doorway, nervous to look at even the backs of their heads, before they turn around.

“Y/N,” your mom says with a grin, but you know all too well how fake that is. She approaches you, pulls you into a hug, and you want nothing more than to push her away and scrub yourself clean. She doesn’t really love you. The second you speak out of turn, or make a mistake, or give her any excuse, she’ll remind you of your worth. (Or, rather, the lack thereof.)

She slips back into her seat next to your father, in front of the desk where Xavier sits, simply observing.

“It’s been so long,” your father says, but his smile is almost blatantly fake. “Your hair, it’s different.”

“Like you said, it’s been a while,” you say, giving a grimace and an awkward chuckle.

“I don’t think I like it,” he says, like he’s giving his opinion on a sculpture in an art exhibit by some long-dead artist who doesn’t care what he thinks. Like it’s something just… Objective.

“Not sure what to do about that,” you reply sheepishly.

You don’t fully realize that you’re holding Ellie’s hand until she squeezes it reassuringly, three times. A secret code. You step further in to make room for the girls.

“So, uh, I have to ask… Why the sudden visit?”

“Well, we got an e-mail about your medicine, and we wanted to come check on you. Make sure this is the right environment for you,” your mother explains.

“You weren’t sure before you stopped talking to me for two years?” You half-joke, playing dumb.

“Has it really been two years?” A normal person would be asking this rhetorically, and they’d be embarrassed. Your mother, though, is simply trying to gaslight you.

“Longer,” you assure her.

“I thought this place was supposed to provide conversion therapy,” your father says, eyeing your hand, then Ellie’s other hand. “You’re such a fucking liar,” he hisses to your mother.

“Wow, maybe my mom dying when I was young was for the best. Better than this for sure,” Wade jokes, gently elbowing your side. You chuckle, grateful for even the slightest ounce of comic relief.

“You’re even more of a freak than you were in high school.” You squeeze Ellie’s hand tight as your father’s expression darkens even further.

“Funny you should say that, considering-“

“Wade,” your mother cuts him off.

That’s weird, to say the least. You just file that away for later. You have bigger fish to fry, like surviving this visit.

“Y/N, why’d you go for a check-up at all? You barely needed the anti-depressants in the first place,” your mother wonders.

“Because it wasn’t barely. Why else would they raise the dosage?” You ask, and the expression on her face is as stupid as the question she asked.

“Don’t speak to her that way,” your father scolds, like he didn’t just call your mother a fucking liar himself. “You are so ungrateful for everything we’ve done for you, do you realize that?”

“I’m sorry, what have you done for her, exactly? Answer quickly, please,” Ellie retorts.

“El-“ you start, but realize this isn’t anger, but advocacy.

“Well, we sheltered and fed her for over a decade,” your father remarks, smirking like he’s won.

“That’s your job!” Wade argues.

“Mr. and Mrs. L/N… I politely asked that you refrain from visiting the campus, and while I appreciate your concern for Y/N’s well-being, I must ask that you remain respectful of her, her fellow students, and my staff. Causing unnecessary conflict is exactly the reason you were almost banned when you last visited,” Professor Xavier finally speaks.

“Almost banned?!” Wade wheezes.

“Yeah,” you sigh, and Wade’s laughter immediately ceases. “I was cheating in school, according to- To Dad.” The word is poison in your mouth.

“Come on, we all know you’re not smart enough to get those grades on your own. Probably screwing some teacher, just like Mom.”

“That’s enough,” Ellie snarls, eyes glowing orange.

“I never screwed a teacher!” Your mother protests at the same time.

“Oh, that’s right, you just blew Mr. Morin. My bad. Wow, Y/N, you really must be something special for all these alphas to be fawning over you. Maybe I did fuck up once or twice, after all, I’ve heard daddy issues-“

“Well, you visited! Now get the fuck out,” Wade chirps.

“Mr. L/N, must I repeat myself? I know you and Mrs. L/N were interested in a tour. Perhaps a less crowded area would help ease your minds,” Xavier reminds you all of his presence once more.

“That sounds like a great idea,” your father agrees.

“I’m starting to get a bit of a headache, maybe you could show us your room first and I could lie down for a bit in there?”

“I-“ You look to the girls, not wanting them to have to deal with her alone.

“Actually, Miss Phimister and Miss Kitsuna would be perfect additions to a rescue team. The orphanage your friend Russell came from was actually part of a network for mutant trafficking, and we found another hub in Maine. The jet takes off in fifteen minutes, and you two will be back in time for dinner. Better get ready and briefed.”

“But-“ Yukio starts, looking to you.

“Go, be superheroes,” you tell them, and they head out. “Uh, how about we swing by the library first, to give them time to change, and then to our room?”

“You share a room with them? Somehow, I’m not surprised.”

“We were roommates before we started dating,” you correct him.

“Dating… Aw, I bet you really think that’s what it is, too. Having parents in a sham of a marriage really did a number on you, huh?” Your father condescends.

“You know, it’s pretty fucked up how fixated you are on her sexuality. Do you like to picture it, you goddamn creep?” Wade defends you, and your skin crawls. You’d never thought of it that way before.

“Let’s just get that tour started, ‘kay?” You squeak. The sooner you get this over with, the sooner they’ll be on their way, hopefully.

“Good idea, Y/N,” Wade says. “Come on, Textbook, let’s go.”

“You didn’t just call me-“

“Oh, but I did, Textbook. Hey, Y/N, did you know that was your dad’s nickname in highschool? ‘Cause he was so fuckin’ easy to shove in a locker.”

You cover your mouth with your hand, trying not to laugh and failing.

“Just show us the library already, Y/N,” your mother says, pinching the bridge of her nose.

You take your parents to the library, as requested. Wade keeps pace with you while your parents fall back. You can’t hear their exact words, but you know your parents are bickering.

“You never said it was this bad.”

“It’s not that bad. It’s definitely been worse,” you admit, busying your eyes with the paintings that line the walls so that you don’t have to meet Wade’s gaze. You might just cry if you do; you can feel the sympathy radiating off of him.

In these past few months, Wade’s been more of a father than your dad, even more of a mother than your mom, but for some reason that doesn’t make you feel more justified in how you feel about your parents. In fact, it just makes you feel worse, and even if you’ve never actually expressed it, you’re still ashamed of the fact that you wish Wade was your father instead. He actually cares, while your parents are simply legally obligated.

From the day you met, Wade’s always been there for you. If you were to tell your parents what you almost did the other day, they’d just call you attention-seeking and insult you in other ways. All they’d do is make you want to try again.

You and Wade stop at the entrance to the library and wait for your parents to catch up. They do, and you open the double doors to reveal the room.

“It’s like Beauty and the Beast,” your mother gapes.

“I thought so, too,” you agree, attempting a smile, but your parents just ignore you, wandering around the large room. Your mother excuses herself after a few minutes of spinning, saying that the dizziness is making her headache worse.

“All these books and you’re still… The way you are,” your father comments, looking at you with such disdain.

“Winner of the science fair with her loving partners, three years in a row?” Wade questions. “Oh, or maybe you’re talking about the fact that she’s a published poet. How embarrassing for you, I’m sure.”

“Wade,” you protest under your breath, embarrassed. They don’t even know that stuff. After middle school, you stopped telling them about your accomplishments. You figured out that all they’d do is ruin them for you.

“No, no, trust me. It’s more about the fact that she’s slutting around with alphas and won’t even save us the embarrassment of them being girls,” you father spats.

“That’s enough,” Wade snarls.

“Oh, that’s right, we can’t forget that she’s yours, too. I guess anything with a dick is daddy considering I was too busy putting food on the table to play dollies,” he remarks, and you suddenly feel light-headed.

“Seriously, Textbook, I really don’t want to hurt you, especially not in front of Y/N, but I fucking will if you make me.”

“Just go,” you urge Wade, starting to feel a bit dizzy, surely from the stress. You brace yourself on him, disguising it as a touch meant to comfort him. He looks concerned as the edges of your vision start to darken a little.“I- What you’re doing, I appreciate it, but-“

“You appreciate it? You appreciate him disrespecting me, disrespecting our family?!”

“Our family?!” You finally snap. “All I ever wanted was for you to love me, and you couldn’t do that. You just couldn’t. And now we’re a family?! No. No, you…” You start to pant, your face feeling even hotter than before. “You… I hate you,” you manage to get out before your world goes completely dark.

“Fuck yeah, Y/N! I’m so prou-“

But when Wade turns to you, you’re halfway to the ground. He catches you, though, and he catches a whiff of something… Familiar.

Lavender. It’s not just the Wilson scent, sure, but it’d be too much of a coincidence. You smell just like him. You are him, or, rather, made of him.

He’s torn between ecstatic and furious.

“Hey, can we get some help over here?” your father calls out to no one. It’s not a school day, and lots of students are out on missions. He reaches out to you for once in your life, but Wade’s now sitting on the floor, cradling you in his arms.

“No,” Wade argues. “Not yours. Mine.”

“What?” You father asks incredulously. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“She’s. Not. Yours,” Wade repeats, and the more he inhales your scent, the more out of control yet calm he feels. Like he’s in the eye of a hurricane. “My baby. Mine.”

“You’re not saying…” your father trails off as Wade gets up, still cradling you. Wade has to take you to your room; help make you a nest, now. He can smell it on you.

You’re in heat.

He gets to your room quickly, practically tossing you onto your bed. Wait… Isn’t your mom supposed to be here?

And that’s when he hears the sound of pills spilling onto the floor.

He nearly rips the bathroom door off of its hinges. Luckily, your mother spilled what Wade quickly realizes is suppressants, and not your prescription.

“You. You could’ve killed her. You are very, very lucky that my baby-“

“Our baby,” your mother corrects.

“No, you take pills, you can’t even smell her, let alone feel her like I can. It- It’s so much it fucking hurts. I’ll say it again, you’re very lucky my baby is in heat, or your arteries would be emptying in that shower. Now, go. Don’t come back.”

You groan in pain, stirring, and your mother takes Wade’s advice. Wade calls Yukio. Then Ellie. Then Yukio. Then Ellie.

“What the fuck, dude?!”

“You need to turn around. Now. I don’t have the time to explain. It’s Y/N.”

“Is she okay?” Ellie, always skeptical, asks.

“Obviously fucking not, or I wouldn’t be calling. She’s in heat.”

“But-“

“I said that I don’t have time to explain, fucking turn around! I’m on the verge of going fucking feral, Ellie. You both need to get here, now.”

“Wade, get out,” Ellie immediately demands.

“I can’t,” he admits.

“Get out! Shit, Wolverine! We need to turn around!”

“I can’t. It’s not like that I swear, it’s… I’m going fucking crazy, just one of you will do, but someone needs to get here.”

“Wade, go.”

“I would never hurt her! Come home!” Wade barks before hanging up. He returns to your room to find you’ve made a nest instinctively - thank goodness for Yukio’s affinity for pillows and blankets - and now you’re curled up in pain in the center of it.

“Wade,” you whimper. He’s scared to step closer, not sure if he’s what you want, even if you despise who you thought was your father. “What’s happening to me? Everything hurts.”

“I really don’t know how to say this, but… You’re in heat.”

“But I’m a beta,” you argue, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“That’s what we all thought. But… Remember how you didn’t smell like anything before? Uh, let me start over. When did you start on your anti-depressants?”

“I was about twelve,” you confirm, not sure what that means.

“Yeah, I think those were suppressants. That it’s always been suppressants, no matter what the bottles said. Until you got a prescription without your mother knowing. Do you understand why your mother would do that?”

You shake your head, and he approaches the bed, sitting down carefully as not to disturb your work.

“Her boyfriend around the time she got pregnant with you was a beta. We know him as Textbook,” Wade teases, before continuing: “But, what no one realizes is that he was at Niagara Falls on spring break around the time when you were conceived, and she was hanging out with her next-door neighbor the whole time. Her next-door neighbor was me.”

“Oh, so I’m your highschool mistake,” you say, connecting the dots.

“Huh?”

“Ha, well, whenever my parents- Well, I guess not my parents, but that’s beside the point, uh, whenever they argue and it gets really bad, my father- Well, not my father, but, uh-“

“Continue,” Wade urges.

“Basically, sometimes he uses ‘a mistake I made in highschool’ as code for ‘Y/N,’” you explain. “But the truth is, I’m the mistake you made in highschool.”

“You’re not a mistake,” he disagrees. “You’re- You’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. Lots of things are made by accident, but that doesn’t make them mistakes! Penicillin, potato chips, Post-It notes, popsicles! They were never supposed to exist but they do and the world is much better off with them in it.”

“You really do have a lot of useless knowledge,” you realize.

“So do you, that’s why our team always wins trivia night.” Wade slips off his boots, joining you in your rearranged bed. “C’mere,” he suggests, guiding your head to his neck.

“S’really you,” you mumble, already weary, and Wade worries for what’s to come. He almost doesn’t even want to let the girls in. He could get you pain medicine, he could probably even find sedatives. Then no one would ever be able to even touch you, let alone hurt you. “Lavender. You never mentioned the lavender, just the sandalwood.”

“I didn't think you’d be impressed,” Wade admits.

“It’s relaxing,” you tell him. “It’s nice to have things in common with someone.”

“You smell like roses, too, not just lavender,” he makes sure you know.

“Yeah, but I think that’s mostly concentrated in an area I’d rather not discuss with you.”

“Well, just make sure that if you do decide to do anything more with them than cuddle, which I can gladly go through the rest of my life without knowing, bee-tee-dubs, that the girls are wearing alpha condoms, especially if one of them knots you. Standard condoms work in a pinch if it’s just for one, y’know, go, but for heats they’re basically useless because of everything I just said. If they hurt you, I will make their deaths look like accidents.”

“S’not like I can get pregnant anyway…” You mumble, embarrassed. “I’m- I’m really glad it’s you. I- I wished so many times that it was you instead of him. Ow, ugh, that one was bad,” you groan, massaging your stomach.

Meanwhile, on the jet, Ellie is furious with herself.

“Yukio, you don’t get it, I smelled her. She smelled like an omega, but I thought- I assumed she was cheating on us. That maybe she didn’t want to be with us like that was because she wanted to- I don’t know, to be on top? It seems so stupid now.”

“Hey, I noticed she smelled different, too. There were other signs we both missed, anyways. Think about how emotional she’s been lately, or how much farther we’ve been going in other ways. How clingy she’s been, too.”

“I guess I didn’t really notice it because I liked her being more open and needing us more,” Ellie admits. “She- She almost fucking killed herself. And I thought cheating was what she was hiding. I- I just-“

“You can’t beat yourself up over it,” Yukio insists. “We’re on our way back, and Wade’s there to protect her.”

Speaking of Wade being there to protect you, he continues to comfort you as the pain gets worse.

“S’too hot,” you complain, and he releases you from his hold, rising from the bed. He knows he’ll have to leave you soon, because you’re likely going to need privacy before the girls get home, but it’s hard to part from you knowing you’re in pain.

“I’m gonna get you some water, okay? And after that, I’m just gonna stand guard outside the door until your girls get here. I know there’s some stuff you need to do, and that’s only gonna get worse.”

“It’s already awful,” you admit, and he chuckles.

“Good luck, kid. I love you.”

Wade gets a case of bottled water from the school’s industrial-sized pantry, bringing it to your room and tearing it open for you before leaving once more. You take one, immediately guzzling it down.

In privacy, you take off Yukio’s cardigan and your bottoms, leaving you in Ellie’s tee shirt and your underwear. You decide to go ahead and free yourself from the constriction that is your bra, feeling a bit embarrassed that you’re not leaving much to the girls’ imagination for your first time together. You eventually decide to undress completely, wondering when the hell your girls are gonna get here.

[mortimer-writes-sometimes]

Sorry if this is indecent but, do you only write fluffy or do you also write spice stuff? Because I have a Sansby request of "making dinner becames a fun night"

I have mixed feelings about this, actually, but not for the reasons you may think!

See, I am asexual. I’m not sex-repulsed, but I don’t understand the appeal of being with another person in that way. However! When it comes to writing, I appreciate its potential as a plot device and I know it is something people like to read for a variety of reasons. I have read sex scenes before just so I don’t miss anything reading through interesting fanfiction and I know how to build up to and imply arousal. However, I have a feeling that I would be really bad at writing the actual sex part, because again... I don’t get it. I pride myself on my ability to portray emotion, but I don’t think I have that level of skill.

Also, just in case I can do it, I don’t want to accidentally end up known for smut fics. I like stories better. So, y’know. Not gonna attempt it, just in case.

That being said, I would loath to leave a reader entirely disappointed, so I have elected to write another take on the prompt you’ve given me! I know you were looking for spice and not fluff, but I hope you enjoy this anyway.

Cooking 101

Word count: 1109

“Cut the stalk into strips, but don’t cut all the way down to the joint. That will help keep the celery stable as you cut.”

Grillby smiled gently as he stood behind Sans, reaching around him to guide his hands. He’d been surprised when the skeleton insisted on helping him cook dinner. As far as he was aware, Sans wasn’t much of a cook. The fire monster had a sneaking suspicion that the sudden desire to learn had something to do with that morning’s little accident. Grillby wore gloves when working with wet ingredients, but while he’d been making breakfast he dropped the bottle of vanilla into the pancake batter. It splattered everywhere, and seeing as it had yet to be infused with magic, it left several dark marks on Grillby’s arms where the flames were partially put out. Sans had been quick to heal him, but it left the skeleton ‘rattled’. When the fire monster had suggested chicken and dumplings for dinner Sans had been quick to suggest that he handle the wet ingredients until they’d been properly treated with magic that would protect Grillby from any ill effects.

That’s how Grillby found himself leaning gently against Sans, wrapping his arms around the skeleton’s waist as he let him finish the dicing on his own. “That’s perfect. We can set that aside for now.”

Sans grinned at the praise, leaning back into Grillby’s arms. Between the warmth at his back and the warmth in his soul, he was once again reminded that marrying this man was the best decision he’d ever made. “Hey, firefly? This is really nice,” he mumbled.

“I agree,” Grillby chuckled, kissing Sans’s cheekbone, “But I’m afraid I can’t hold you up and get a bowl from the cabinet at the same time. Sit up for just a moment.”

Sans whined, but complied, shifting his weight back on his own two feet. “So, what’s next?”

“Dry ingredients.” Grillby set a bowl and an assortment of measuring cups in front of Sans as he moved things around with organized ease. “That’s strange… I could have sworn I laid out the thyme.”

“Don’t worry, I got it.” Sans glanced at the microwave display. “Clock says it’s six thirty-eight. Lemme guess, we gotta wait until the moon is high to start our witch’s brew?”

Grillby rolled his eyes, setting a container of flour in front of Sans. “Haha, very funny. Go ahead and measure out two cups of flour while I find it.”

Simple enough task, right? At least, if you’re familiar with cooking. Sans wasn’t working with a very large bowl, so it would make sense to add a leveled half-cup of flour to the bowl at a time. Unfortunately, Sans was not familiar with cooking.

Poof!

Grillby turned around to find both Sans and his workstation dusted in a light coating of flour. The skeleton had taken a heaping cup of flour and dumped it all in the bowl at once, sending a cloud of white powder everywhere. He coughed and shook his head, trying to get the flour out of his eye sockets. When he looked up at Grillby, his expression was so bemused that the fire monster couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh my god, Sans,” Grillby managed through his laughter, “You’re an absolute mess.”

Sans gave him a mischievous grin. “Oh yeah?” He picked up the measuring cup again with clear intent.

Grillby realized what was happening a moment too late. He barely had time to shield his face with his arms before Sans had thrown a cup of flour at him, the nutty scent of lightly cooked flour filling the kitchen as it covered him. “Sans-!” He gave his husband a playful smile. “Oh, you’re going to regret that.”

Sans knew that look. He took off running, getting a few seconds head start while Grillby grabbed the flour container. The fire monster gave chase, jumping over the couch in his pursuit. He managed to nearly catch up, throwing a handful of flour at Sans. Sans changed direction and caught him off guard, grabbing a handful of flour from the container in Grillby’s hand and throwing it over the fire monster’s head before taking off again.

Sans made a mistake when he let Grillby chase him up the stairs. Grillby intentionally let Sans run past him into the living room. When he was in just the right spot, the fire monster dumped the entire container of flour over the banister, engulfing half the room in a white cloud. Sans took the brunt of the impact, playfully crying out as he was practically drowned in flour. Grillby laughed, leaning over the banister. “I believe I win.”

“Yeah, yeah, I surrender,” Sans conceded, taking off his hoodie and trying to shake out some of the flour that had accumulated there. “So, pizza tonight?”

“That sounds perfect.” Grillby came down the stairs, giving Sans a fond smile. “Perhaps we should clean up a bit, first.”

“I’ll sweep, you vacuum?” Sans proposed. “And of course, the first shower goes to the victor.”

Grillby arched an eyebrow at him. “Sans, we use separate showers. Unless you’re implying that you want to try bathing in fire, in which case I must strongly discourage it.”

Sans chuckled. “Nah, I’m just looking for an excuse to be the one to order the pizza so I can annoy the delivery guy.”

“You’re incorrigible,” Grillby mumbled, rolling his eyes.

Sans looked up at him with a cheeky grin. “Aww, you know you love me.”

Grillby’s smile softened at that. If someone had told him three years ago that he would be chasing his favorite customer around the house with a container of flour, laughing and leaping over furniture, he would have just rolled his eyes. It had seemed like an impossible, silly fantasy. Yet, there he was, clothing white with powder as he gazed lovingly into his husband’s eyes. The fire monster leaned down and kissed the top of Sans’s skull, unable to wipe the smile from his face even if he tried. “I do love you, Sans,” he said softly. “I really do. I wouldn’t trade evenings like this for anything.”

Sans flustered a bit. “Yeah. I know how you feel.” A warmth settled in Sans’s chest as the mirth faded. He smiled up at his husband, putting his hands on his shoulders. “By the way, Grillbz?”

“Yes?”

“I cannot take you seriously with that much flour on your glasses.”

The monsters’ combined laughter filled the house as Grillby wrapped his arms around Sans, letting the skeleton lean against him once more. 

Yeah. Neither of them would trade that moment for the world.

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little bit of domestic fluff. If you liked it, consider reblogging and/or leaving me a comment telling me your favorite part! Also, if you’d like to be added to my tag list, let me know!

[rantingcrocodile]

I’d like to discuss “febfems.” What makes perfect sense to me (from my own experience), is that a “natural febfem” fits the basic sort-of mould that’s essentially:

“I’m a bisexual woman, but I’m mostly attracted and interested in women. Very (very) rarely, I’m just as attracted to a man as I am to all kinds of women, but because I prefer the companionship of women and sex with women to sex with men etc, I’m only ever going to look for a relationship with another woman, since that’s what’s right for me.”

(Of course, there are “febfems” who use the label because, whatever level of attractions they personally experience as bisexual, they choose to discard men and only want to be with women for personal and/or political reasons away from personal levels of attraction, but that kind of “febfem” is besides the point in this discussion.)

That’s why I’m... extremely concerned that there are “febfems” who actually are closer to what’s essentially:

“I’m a bisexual woman who’s extremely attracted to women, but I can occasionally admit that the odd man is... aesthetically pleasing and that’s about it. Otherwise, men are gross, I’d never want to touch a man in any way, but women are amazing and I love women and women only. (But I suppose that there’s a fictional man that’s cute in an abstract, never-come-near-me, can’t-be-physically-aroused-by-him way.)”

Obviously there are bisexual women who have been traumatised by men to therefore become completely averse to them, which is another discussion entirely.

From an adapted quote from a friend of mine, I’m concerned that the definition of lesbian has changed from “only attracted to women” to “only attracted to women and repulsed by men.”

The fact is that, throughout history (and what’s still going on in many places today), there are lesbians who have suffered through relationships and sex with men without any kind of attraction at all thanks to a mix of massive internalised misogyny, societal expectation and the patriarchy’s hatred of women to the point that sex for women is commonly seen as a pleasureless chore that needs to be endured for the sake of her male partner’s pleasure, desire and “entitlement.”

There’s this belief, particularly from lesbians who have been raped and traumatised, that the only “correct” way to be a lesbian is to also feel just as horrified and traumatised over sex with men, to be grossed out and sickened by the sight of a naked man, etc. The reason that I’m saying this is because this kind of mistaken (albeit well-meaning) belief is making actual lesbians mistakenly believe that they’re bisexual, purely because they would feel absolutely no attraction to a man at all, but also because they don’t feel completely repulsed by the idea of a man and might be able to “suffer through sex,” that somehow makes them bisexual.

There are grey areas here that make things extremely complicated, like women who truly are bisexual but who were traumatised by men, as I said earlier. 

I’m also aware that this is an extremely controversial topic to broach. As for myself, the last thing that I ever want to do is discourage bisexuals from believing that they’re bisexual. Anyone who mistakenly believes that they’re part of one label but are actually another isn’t “bad” in any way. 

I think that it’s something to think about, because women really do need support, lesbians who are actually “febfems” need and deserve support and “febfems” who are actually lesbians need and deserve support, too. 

[everything-laito]

Hypersexuality and Laito Sakamaki (UPDATED)

Hiya guys! Been a long ass time since I’ve made a post like this, I’ve been getting so much ask box activity + had school so I haven’t had the time to make an original post! This has been something I wanted to write for a while, and not only was I busy with school, but this one hits home hard to me personally, so I was going back and forth for a bit writing it. But I think I’m ready :)

I know there’s kind of a general consensus that anything DL related comes along with a trigger warning whether stated or not, but just a TW considering I’ll be talking about some real life experiences; not in depth or detail of course, but just mentions of it :) Not only is this a Laito analysis but it’s also an educational tool to help other people know about this!

So, without further ado, rant under the cut! 

Hypersexuality is something that many sexual assault/harassment and rape survivors experience after the abuse. People associate asexuality or sexual repulsion as the only (or common) psychological affect after experiencing those situations. However, there is another affect that can happen, and it is more common than people think, and aforementioned, it’s hypersexuality. It’s basically having more sexual feeling and urges after the experience, in order to cope with the nonconsensual one. And it’s exactly what Laito experienced after Cordelia’s abuse.

I’ve also experienced something like this. I don’t believe I’ve experienced it in full swing, but definitely something like it. I haven’t been raped thankfully, but I have been sexually harassed/assaulted before a handful of times. I know I’ve briefly mentioned that in other analyses, but I’m just explicitly stating it here.

I first learned about hypersexuality this year actually, and my Laito nerd brain was like “holy shit that’s the name of what Laito is going through.” Then I was like “oh fuck I’ve gone through that a little bit too.” I thought going along with  would help me “heal” myself, and it really was doing the opposite. (UPDATE: realized that what I thought was a lot of sexual trauma/hypersexuality was mostly compulsory heterosexuality (but still with those dabbled in too—quite a terrible combo) because last month I realized I’m not attracted to men! Although those experiences I mentioned did mess me up a bit, realizing this is a huge step in the right direction for my own mental well being. Just had to make this correction on my part, since the original post had more emotional investment than I would have liked it to :)) 

Like I have said in my little update, I realized I was going through mostly compulsory heterosexuality while also going through some minor sexual trauma/hypersexuality. Although again, I have not had it as bad as Laito has or other sexual assault survivors (which I am grateful for that), I still have a personal grasp of coping mechanisms with traumatic experiences or experiences I did not particularly enjoy. (If you are interested in learning more about compulsory heterosexuality, feel free to send me an ask! I just don’t feel that it’s appropriate to talk about it in regards to Laito or make a post about it, since it doesn’t relate to him)

And that’s probably also why I can resonate with Laito so much, at least on that scale, and even if I experienced a grain of what he’s going through. I know he’s fictional but these are definitely real experiences and real feelings. 

Laito’s case is a bit different than just feeling overtly sexual. Although he’s trying to heal himself through sex and other intimate actions, he’s also doing it as a type of revenge. He doesn’t like purity, and in fact, he’s quite jealous of it. I’ve heard this is also a pretty human way of coping with this type of abuse, and it is why I love Yui as a character. She’s incredibly strong and sets an example for Laito. This makes Laito jealous yet entertained by her, and that’s also a reason why he probably keeps her around. He also attempts to use Yui as a vessel to avenge his own feelings (even not knowing about Cordelia being in her at first). I  personally wasn’t like that, but given the circumstances, there’s definitely people who are. Laito’s character can be so human to me sometimes, its astonishing, despite him being a character, a vampire, and just generally does some wacky or terrible shit. 

You could say his hypersexuality could also be similar to typical Pavlovian Conditioning. You’ve probably heard of the whole experiment of training (conditioning) a dog to expect food when they hear a certain sound and thus, his mouth waters. We’re conditioned by a lot of things in our lives, from triggering a “flight or fight” response from this specific ringtone or high school bell. It’s just a built in “routine” our minds utilize to process pattern recognition. I know I say this a lot, but we don’t know how vampire brains in the DL universe compare to human brains (and quite frank, I don’t think we will), so I will just do my typical human brain picking. 

In Laito’s case, he was conditioned to “love” Cordelia in a fashion that was incredibly gross. No, I won’t sugar coat it. In my Cordelia/Laito analysis, I talk about how Laito was probably groomed. Grooming is another type of conditioning. Although I don’t believe his grooming was sexual, it definitely “prepares” the victim to be exploited in that fashion later on. It’s to build a false sense of trust to be betrayed. Later on, when Cordelia started having sex with Laito, he became used to it in a “conditioned” fashion. When someone said that Cordelia was calling him, he knew what it was. He also thought it’s what he wanted, even though he knew that he didn’t. I believe I have referenced his MB Dark Prologue monologue before, but not this part of it. Here’s the monologue: 

――Who is it that I give my love to? Throwing myself away, I caught the sight of someone Someone I didn’t recognize, Suddenly, I realized I was looking into a mirror. The mirror reflected myself within it. I couldn’t see anything else. I am disgraceful for this greed. I was wearing a visage. What I wanted, certainly was love. It’s not that easy. Because of these words, I suffer. No matter how many times love is said, The only thing that will be important to me, Is only the physical contact and body.

I know I've said it in the Laito/Cordelia analysis, but Laito is visibly confused in his flashbacks. He’s trying to grasp what love is, but then convinces himself that love is physical contact, and not emotional connection, especially near the end. He knows he’s suffering but he is still conditioned to think like this. Same case for people who suffer from hypersexuality. 

Although many people do not know why it occurs, it can be a symptom or “side effect” from disorders, medication, and the like. In the sexual trauma case, I believe a main reason is that the person utilizes sex to cope with trauma, or because they are used to sexual acts being forced upon them. That’s where conditioning still comes in. He’s treated as one of her suitors, lovers, or the like. Even as a stand-in for Richter and Karlheinz. He doesn’t consider Cordelia to be his mom until the DF Vampire ending. On top of him not receiving emotional gratification which leads to all sorts of just awful stuff for him, sexual attention is the only type that he receives until Yui comes along. He is used to not having emotional support or connections, which is why physical contact is what he is more “comfortable” with, while at the end of the day it still does not satisfy him.  

It creates a positive feedback loop of him being unsatisfied, while being confused about where he’s unsatisfied in, leading to him trying to “fix” himself or avoid his own personal, emotional problems through lust and sex, but then still finding himself not “healing.” Then the cycle continues, enthusing his hyper sexual behavior even more.

I was sent some great articles from @souchiika on the DL discord (thank you so much!) and one of the articles stood out to me, since I did not talk about this type of topic on this blog yet. Here’s the link to the article, and here’s the quote that stood out to me!

Furthermore, indirect effects were also statistically significant, providing support to the hypothesis that depression and guilt would be serial mediators of trauma-hypersexual behavior relations. The paths through depression and guilt have been found to be the most significant with moderate and high indirect effects on hypersexuality. Moreover, male gender, as covariate variable, is a relevant risk factor for hypersexual behavior.

Hypersexuality is something that is still being researched like I mentioned earlier, but since these findings came out, it definitely makes sense in Laito’s case (and in general). Like I said, Laito does feel unsatisfied and even shameful of his actions, which is more apparent in the beginning of his and Cordelia’s “relationship.” In those flashbacks, he asks himself if this is what he really wants, and although he attempts to force himself to like these actions as a coping mechanism, there is still a relative degree of shame and guilt he has. It is also apparent nearing his DF Ecstacy ending when he finds out that Karlheinz foresaw Cordelia having sex with him, and even wanted it to happen. All that shame and guilt came bellowing out while he was in a fit of distress. In initial attempts to mediate this guilt and shame, he projected his feelings onto other women through sexual acts, leading to more of this hypersexual loop. I know I talk about Laito projecting a lot, but it is frequent in his character. Like I’ve always said, it’s typical “bully” power dynamic manipulation. If Laito can bring a victim of his down to his level, then he feels better about himself (but it satisfies him for only a short while, until Yui in MB+). 

Also, note that this is no excuse or justification for him to rape or sexually assault others. It is merely an explanation as to why he does it (as for my posts in general, it’s not a justification, it’s an explanation). 

Another reminder that rape and sexual assault isn’t about the sexual urges, but about power. That’s why anybody with any background can do it, given the circumstances. 

This post was a bit hard for me to write, so I apologize if I got too overtly personal for your liking. Like I’ve said in the past, I’m not writing this to gain sympathy too, and sure that sounds superficial of me to say now (although I truly mean it), I just want to use my platform as an educational tool. Sorry about the change in my typical tone :) 

Sorry if this was too much of a doozy, I really wanted to talk about it and to educate people, despite it being a bit personal. I just felt like the most effective way was to convey how real this topic is, despite this fandom knowing about it in a fictional setting. 

I hope you have a great day! -Corn

[buildingrelationshipsinanarchy]

A New Intimacy Model

So what spurred this project is a culmination of a few things. Namely, frustration with the imprecise and incomprehensible words, Platonic, Romantic, and Sexual. The English language hasn’t been great at adapting the words for personal relationships as our times and values change.

I fell into Anarchism only very recently, stumbling into the language of ‘relationship anarchy’ through the internet in discussion with forms of polyamory years ago when I started this blog. Over the last year, I’ve been getting into radical politics and finding how my un-politicized opinions were validated, and then stretched the more I learned and studied up. While I’m still learning more about Radical politics, Anarchism, Marxism, Queer and Feminist theory specifically, the more I wanted to link some of my perspectives on intimate relationships with these political and theoretical texts.

“The Personal is Political.” - Carol Hanisch, Feminist Author.

@mythr1der​ wrote a post detailing a bit of the frustration I also share in regards to how the Dichotomy between Platonic and Sexual (which almost all definitions of Romance boil back into), leave much to be desired when discussing attraction, desire, intimacy and relationships in general. I believe that this very simple dichotomy reflects, oddly enough, capitalism and the history of the role of state power in culture. I rant a little bit about it as a response to @mythr1der​‘s post here. 

It’s long, and incomplete, but I proposed an idea of just building entirely new words, so we can build an entirely new map for talking about love, desire, attraction, and relationships that actually discuss what its like to be next to someone you like to be next to! 

What is intimacy? It’s closeness right? To be near some ‘intimate’ part of another person, or them near something meaningful about why you’re you. I wanted to start this series by talking about what it means to be close to someone. If you remember my birthday without Facebook, that might make me feel a bit special. But if you remember how badly I was abused by an old friend, its because I trusted you enough to share some of the sadness that I’m not as loud about.

Intimacy isn’t always trauma, sometimes its tears of joy hearing that your cousin is out of prison, or the laughter of your friends. Being close to each other in a hyper-digitized age is a bit tricky, but phone calls, facetime, snapchat are only some of the tools we use to keep each other updating on what we’re feeling. Whether its about our love life, sex life, work life, or home life, just sharing that information can be real special, and bonding.

When we say that we have friends or that we are [Queer] Platonic Partners, does that mean we’ve decided how often we’re gonna talk or what we’re gonna talk about? What if we just send each other memes or rant about politics? Am I supposed to devalue those interactions because they aren’t the person I’m crying on the phone with?

Intimacy can be as deep as childhood scars and as simple as surprising me with my favorite snack. It all just means you know who I am, what I like, and what I care about. I want to intentionally forge those connections. And this why I set these definitions first. 

Other Words:

A Daekkon (n.) would be person/partner whom you’ve developed intentionally this kind of relationship with. 

If you desired this kind of relationship with a certain person, you’d be feeling Daekeen (adj.) for/about that person.

People who are desiring or actively doing these activities together are Daekkoning (v.). 

This would be understood as Daekkonic (adj.) behavior; as in, “My roomate isn’t super talkative with me, but is deakkonic (adj.) with Sandra from the Mosque.” 

“Tom is going through it, he’s felt deakkonically (adv.) deprived since the move.”

________________________________________________________________

In our sex-negative, ironically repressed culture, we seem to think that if you’re touching your bodies together at all, it means *something*.  I want to remove that idea. I want to reclaim physical affection. I want to be touch and be touched by others. I don’t want my afab friends who have experienced some sort of sexual violence in their lives, to ever feel weary about the fact that I’m physically affectionate. It’s been my #1 Love Language for the last 10 years. 

Fighting r*pe culture is a full-time fight, but I think adding a word, and therefore an idea[l], can be useful in reclaiming safety, and boundaries regarding bodily autonomy, for all of us. Clear communication and respected boundaries and asking consent for everything are the bedrock we need to continually practice. And as trust builds, I believe this could be very useful theoretically tool for improving the quality of our relationships and help create clearer discussion about our individual boundaries, needs, and desires. I feel like this leads me to a relevant question. What activities are inherently platonic, romantic or sexual? Is holding hands inherently romantic when almost all of us have done it with a friend? What about those of us who are religious or spiritual and have held hands with members of church, mosque or synagogue; do you think we’re out here non-stop blushing at the Pastor? Or when we held hands with family members? Doesn’t sound like it holds up, huh? 

What about snuggling a roommate? Holding a teammate while celebrating a victory? The kiss my bestfriend gave me on our shared birthday dinner? Are we left to through our Aro and Ace friends’ out of the discussion, just because our culture has bad takes on sex and romance as the only forms possible of significant physical touch? Physical touch is such an important way to communicate love and affection, as well as care, concern, and comfort. They don’t get to cast their shadow on this space anymore!

Other Words:

If you had this desire for someone, or wanted to approach cultivating these forms of affection in a relationship, you could say you’re feeling Phaddish (adj.) for that person.

.Participating or initiating acts of a non-sexual physical intimacy Phadronic (adj.) quality are said to be phade-ing/phading (v.).

A Phadrone (n.) could be the name of a person/partner you share this kind of relationship with. 

Phadroning (v.) would the act of cultivating this kind of intimacy with another person. 

Phadronically (adv.) could describe a certain level of intimacy implicit in a physical touch between to particular people.

________________________________________________________________

Now lets talk about Sex. That’s the thing the everyone’s mind always gravitates to when discuss words like, intimacy, attraction, desire. It’s the thing we want to stay away from when you use the Platonic or Friendly. But, lets be real. Haven’t many of us had sex with people didn’t even consider friends? Or people who became our “Strictly Platonic” friends after we may have had sex, once or several times, with them?

People who gravitate toward polyamory or non-monogamy tend have had a “hoe-phase.” The boundary between friend and lover, or partner and fuckbuddy have been blurred in a good chunk of people’s lives. Non-monogamous or not, I think it’s useful to talk directly about our sexual experiences, desires, fantasies, and how different it can be with different people, or in different stages of our lives. But what makes an experience sexual? Maybe that sounds redundant or obvious; I mean, it’s got the word SEX in it, maybe that’s got something to do with it? But maybe not... 

Lets ask an odd question. Is sex inherently sexual? Who wouldn’t assume the answer is automatically yes? Well, my first thought is to talk to those in the Adult Entertainment industry or friends of ours who are sex-workers, in whatever capacity. Is every client sexy or shoot erotic? Those of us who have sex, have we never been doing it and been bored through most of at least one experience? 

If sex is inherently sexual, why do we have so many Sexual Health Educators, Marriage Counselors, Pornstars, Yoga Teachers, Personal trainers and Writers telling us how to have sexy sex? Dating Coaches and Websites, telling us how we are getting something that’s supposed to sound so easy wrong.

I’ve come to the opinion that sex isn’t about body parts, genitalia, certain body motions, or even clothing [or lack thereof]. I believe that sex, or eroticism, is all about the context and the people involved. There’s nothing inherently sexy about fruit, or food in general, but if woman eats a banana in public, there are at least several men in area thinking of something than her healthy food choices. 

This is why talking about sex directly is good. And understanding it as an energy that you imbue to any activity or circumstance, could help have better sex; and and on the flip-side, show us how we may need to more aware of how we may take up space with our body language. I do also feel, that in part, some of our Ace friends (those who aren’t sex repulsed), may be able to find some resonance with this model; sex doesn’t have to feel passionate or any particular way at all (other than good?), because sex isn’t about sexiness, but about human connection and pleasure.

Other Words:

Serotic (adj.) activities include any activity that is engaged due to, or is infused with, sexual desire and/or erotic intention. It also describes the type of desire you’re feeling for another person. 

A Serato (n.) is any person you engage in serotic activities or feelings with. 

An activity that was originally un-serotic (adj.), but became sexually or erotically charged, we could described as having become Serotically (adv.) charged. 

When you are cultivating or charging an act with serotic energy, you are Seroticizing (v.) that activity

________________________________________________________________

Lately, especially since diving into Radical Politics, I find less and less desire in defining Who I Am as a part of a relationship unit. It’s an overlay from monogamy, The Couple being the only social unit that is recognized, as it’s necessary to the Nuclear Family; a super important thing for Capitalism to sustain itself. The relationships I cultivate with others, with whatever forms of intimacy or interactions therein, cant be understood by that model. I am more than my interactions with a handful of people; I am a human person, and my engagement with the world isn’t actually reducible to whether or not I’m having sex with someone or not. 

We’ve talked about multiple forms of intimacy, and some of the desires or interests associated with them. Have you noticed that in the desire, or need, to discuss relationships on a basis of, ‘sex: yes or no?’, that we haven’t talked about the webs that form because we are all reliant on each other to survive? Not everyone in your community or workplace or online spaces, you’ll get to know or talk to. Do they, as people, matter less because they aren’t in your contacts list or your DM’s?  

This is a space where not a lot of us to tend think or engage as much. An easy word to discuss this space is community. But is a community the people or the place you spend your time, whether online or off? Is the community the place you live and your neighbors? Is it the people who may share some of your identifiers or face similar forms of oppression, despite living in a different city, state, country?

We are multi-dimensional beings, and with the use of technology, there are so many ways to form relationships, and share resources. I think the ‘community’ is any space you find yourself in, which means that mutual aid is something you are always able to engage in. Whether it’s feeding the homeless guys who hang out by the intersection, or dropping a few bucks in a trans kid’s venmo, mutual aid is so much easier.

But what if that feels so inconsequential? It’s not! But it does, from time to time, feel like the problems of the world are so big, and that you and so many you know are suffering in ways you wish you could help. Well, community organizing is always happening somewhere, online and off. It becomes important to join up with others in order feel like we can actually make a positive impact on the lives of others. We don’t have to wait on a government who’s interest isn’t ours, don’t have to wait for some politician to fail on a promise to Make Things Better.

We have each other, and we are all we really have. At the end of the day, all of our concepts are man-made. COVID-19 showed us how drastically things could be different if the people in power made decisions that actually benefited us. A lot of us understand the need to do something. Capitalism says that competition is what drove human kind into evolution, the fight for survival in a meaningless, terrifying world. Anarchism, as I’m learning, throws the whole idea in the trash where it belongs.

Peter Kropotkin, whose been called both the Godfather and Santa Claus of Anarchism, penned in Mutual Aid: A Factor of Evolution (1902), “under any circumstances sociability is the greatest advantage in the struggle for life.”

We are better off together. Capitalism and the property relationships in our compulsively monogamous society try to tell us other wise. We don’t have to follow that model.

Other Words:

To Mudshop (v.) is to build a mudship with a particular person, organinzation, or community; Mud-shopping (v.). 

A Mudshipper (n.) is an individual in a mudship of any scale. 

I’ve said a lot. I hope this reads as accessible to as many people as it can be. I built this because I want to tell the people in my life why I love them as dearly as I do. And that I’d love to build relationships with as many awesome, lovely people as I can.

If you try to use the words Romantic and Platonic while you look at this post, and find it almost impossible, I’ve done my job.

I hope those words die along with oppressive ideas they uphold.

[beautifulchaostrash]

Hi! could I get some fluff with Lester Sinclair and a female S/O? like a date, they go to the woods to search for animal bones and other cool stuff that can be found in the forest and at some point they get lost because they were too distracted being adorable? thank you so much!!!💞💞💞💞 love ya! hope you're doing well💞

A Paisley Afternoon

Lester Sinclair x Fem!Reader

SFW, mentions of abuse, swearing

Word count: 4,884

assasdjhajfsgawgeu you are SO sweet! QwQ I hope you’re doing good as well!

Quick disclaimer: I have not seen the House of Wax, and I haven’t really written for the Sinclair brothers that much, so if their characterization seems off plz let me know! This was hella fun to write and I’m super glad you requested this! (I’m also lowkey simping for Lester Sinclair, what have u done to me)

I know u asked for fluff and while this mostly is, I made the ending kinda angsty cause I can’t help myself...T-T but it has a happy ending tho

cut because this is a loooong ass fic

“S-so uh, Y/N! V-Vinnie asked me to uh, go get some stuff from the forest, ya know, for his artstuffs? And uh, ‘was wonderin’ if you wanted to come with, since yer a big fan of nature and stuff, heh. I-if you don’t that’s ok I understand I-”

You silenced his nervous rambling with a kiss on the cheek.

“I’d love to! Could we make it a picnic? I don’t get to cook for you often,” you hummed.

Lester blushed a deep red. “Y-yeah if you wanna, I’d love that...uh, m-meet you at our usual spot? Four pm?”

“I’ll see you then!” You gave him a chaste kiss on the lips before turning to go back into the house.

He gawked for a minute before jogging down the porch steps, stammering his goodbyes. He drove off as if he had gotten de-pantsed during gym class and was retreating to hide out his shame in the locker room.

...

He would never call this a date. Not in a million years. After all ‘Dates are s'posed to be nice and fancy, and if there’s one thing I ain’t it’s that!’. Lester’s self-deprecating humor came back in your mind as you sat on the edge of the boarded-up well. The well served as your go-to meet spot for these kinds of outings.

Even though you had both been dating for years, Lester always treated every date as if it were his first. As if he couldn't believe that you wanted to spend time with him. It broke your heart to think about, but it was sweet in away.

Every time he came up with an excuse. ‘Bo wants me out of the house for the evening'...'We need more parts for the House of Wax, and I need some help'... 'You’ve spent a lot of time inside lately, you should go on a walk'! And I’ll come with to protect you in case people come by.’  But you knew better.

You knew that Lester was too nervous to ask you outright. You’re snapped out of your daydream by the slam of a car door. Looking up to see Lester jogging towards you, Jonsey following close behind.

“S-sorry I’m late! Lost track of ti-...Y/N! How many times have I told you not to sit on that well!?!” he picked up his pace, sprinting to where you sat.

You sheepishly stood up, not noticing that you had been leaning on it in the first place.

“Sorry sweetheart, guess I jus’ got tired,”

He pulled you into a tight hug, then pulled away to check your body for injuries. He was like a flustered mother goose, almost.

“That well is ancient, why it-it was 'prolly here before Bo and Vinnie were even born! If you p-put too much weight on it, it could-”

“Collapse and I could get hurt, I know, I know. Gah! You worry too much darling,” You stood on your tiptoes to press a kiss into the bridge of his nose.

He stood back and put his hands on his hips, eyeing you up and down.

“Why I oughta-” He wagged a finger in your direction.

“What? You oughta what? What’re you gonna do huh?” you smirked and leaned into him, tilting your head.

“I oughta…” He trailed off at your sudden challenge, blushing hard.

His eyes widened and a mischievous grin spread across his face.

“I oughta kiss you, fer being so reckless!” He crossed his arms.

You giggled and put a hand over your forehead. “Oh no! What a tragedy! Forced to kiss the most handsome man in the world! Whatever shall I do???”

You sank to the ground and leaned against Jonsey, putting a hand to your forehead. Lester looked down at his feet and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Aww shucks!” He muttered.

You jumped up, wrapping your arms around his waist and ghosting your lips against his. Lester pressed his hands against your waist and closed the distance between you two. You stayed connected for a moment, savoring the tangy taste of sweat and dirt on your tongue. You only broke away when you heard Jonesy snuffling around in the picnic basket you brought with. After shooing her away from your food, Lester went back to his truck to gather his bag, and you were both on your way.

You and Lester walked through the forest, taking your time to pick your way for the undergrowth. Even though you both did this often, and usually traveled the same path each time, you never failed to find stuff.

Jonesy, not learning her lesson from the last time, went after a badger and got her ass kicked again. Leading to a very angry rant from Lester, even though she couldn’t understand what she was saying.

Even though you were looking for animal bones, anything was game. From discarded beer cans to cool looking rocks, weird plants, whatever you managed to find.

You both stopped in a small clearing, the trees were sparser here and the grass a bit taller. A perfect place for treasures to hide. Lester beamed, moving to start sifting through the vegetation. You set your basket down nearby and followed suit, hiking up your pant legs to avoid the mud.

A few minutes and a couple of oddly shaped rocks later, Lester called out to you. He showed off a very excellent stick, that was a bit shorter than him and looked thick and sturdy. He handed it to you, proclaiming that it was going to be your 'wizard staff'.

“Wizard staff?” you chuckled, grabbing the stick from his hands.

“Why yes! You are the most magical person I’ve met! You’ve got to be some sort of powerful enchantress! Sein' as you’ve put a spell on my heart~” he smiled and grabbed you by the waist, leaning down to kiss you.

You gasped when he pulled away, blushing at his cheesy comments. You sure as shit weren’t gonna let him get away with it without firing back with some of your own.

“That’s funny, seeing as you’re the one who’s charmed me~” you whispered in his ear, your breath hot on his sensitive skin.

You spun around and stooped down to pick through the grass,  ignoring his flustered gaping. He smiled and kneeled next to you in the dirt, enjoying the silence of the forest.

You both trek on for another hour or so, before finding a level area near a creek to collapse and have lunch. You made quick work, unfurling the blanket and setting out the food. You tossed a few treats towards Jonsey to make sure your meal wouldn't get sacrificed.

You fell onto the ground with a thud, letting your aching muscles relax. Even though it wasn't hot out, the humidity made doing anything outside torture. You don't know how Lester managed to do it every day.

“You need to eat, here d-drink some water,” he pushed a canteen into your hands along with a sandwich.

“Water?” Taking a swig from the canteen, you smirked. “Why, I think you have more than quenched my thirst, gorgeous~”

Lester went red from ear to ear as he realized that you were ogling his backside while he rummaged around in his bag. He flushed and sat down next to you, suddenly very invested in the ham sandwich in front of him. You finished your sandwich and leaned against his shoulder. Lester blushed and started stammering. You silence him with a kiss, one hand moving to cup his cheek, the other moving to his chest.

He reciprocated, wrapping his arms around your waist and deepening the kiss. His lips slid against yours, chapped and sweaty, and tasting faintly of blood. It was more than gross, it was ghastly, repulsive even, and yet so so addicting. Every time you think you get enough of him he leaves you yearning for more. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought him to be a succubus or some kind of land-dwelling siren.

But nope, it was just Lester. Lester bringing you gifts in the form of wildflowers, pretty rocks, and books. Lester giving you full-throated, heartfelt praise and sappy comments. Lester giving you more passion and love and charm in one smile than anyone else could give you in a lifetime. Bo may be a smooth-talking seducer, but Lester? Lester was straight up husband material, and it made your heart melt.

And it made other things melt as well, you realized as you were craving more of him. You opened your mouth slightly, pushing your tongue on his lips to savor more of that sickly sweet taste. He obliged you, parting his lips to brush your tongues together. Straddling his waist, you press your body against his, leveraging a more intimate kiss.

He gave out a small groan, which only spurned you on further. Your  hand reached down to pull at the hem of his shirt, when his rough hands gripped your hips and pulled you off of him.

“Not in front of Jonesy!” he hissed into your ear.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the notion.

“Jonsey? Babe, she’s just a dog she doesn’t care what we’re doin’, she doesn’t even understand what sex is!”

He puffed up , a bit offended by your words. “She is not jus’ a dog, she is an innocent creature and does not deserve to be exposed to that kind o’ stuff!”

You snickered again, conceding defeat. “Alright alright, but you owe me, mister,” you teased.

He smiled and kissed the top of your head as you snuggled into his side.

“Don’ worry bout a thing darlin’, I always pay my debts,”

You both relaxed, exchanging kisses and occasionally commenting about work, or the weather. After a while, you both decided it was time to move on, and you packed up camp.

As you stopped to refill the canteens from the creek, your eye noticed something odd in the water.

Upon closer inspection, you realized it was a very smooth rock. You, of course, fished it out to take home with you. Only then did you realize what about it that had caught your eye in the first place. The rock itself was a dark color, flat, and about the same circumference as a small wine bottle. Right smack in the middle of the rock was a hole going clear through to the other side.

Your jaw dropped. It was a hag stone. You had heard of them before but had never expected to ever find one naturally occurring. They were ridiculously rare and only formed under specific circumstances. Even though it seemed to be a bit silly, you mentally thanked the forest and the creek for giving you such a gift. “Lester!” you called out. “Come look at what I found!”

You ran over to him and dropped the stone into his palm. His eyes widened, his fingers running over the smooth surface, tracing the round hole.

“You found this in th’ creek?” he held the stone up to his face and peered through the hole curiously.

“Yeah! It was just sitting there,”

“Well I’ll be, I never seen anything like it!”

“They’re called Hag Stones! It's rumored they hold powerful magic, since they're only created through natural means,”

Lester hummed and pushed the stone back into your hands.

“That’s a real hell of a find y/n!” He smiled.

You palmed the rock, thinking for a moment. An idea popped into your head.

“Say Lester do you have any rope or string?” you asked.

He nodded and went to retrieve it from his pack. It was a small bundle of thin para-cord, stolen off some unfortunate tourist. 

“Perfect!” you beamed.

Taking the loose end, you compared the length to your neck to gauge it, then took a small pocket knife and cut the rope. Looping one end through the hole in the rock, then tying both ends in a secure knot. Beckoning Lester to lean down, you looped the necklace over his head, leaving it to rest on his neck . He looked down at it and smiled.

“When Hag Stones are worn around the neck like this, they make the wearer pretty much immune to curses and bad luck. It’s even said that if you look through it, you’ll be able to see into the kingdom of the Fae Folk! And because we found this one in the forest, it grants you favor with the tree spirits!” you bit your tongue and blushed, realizing how silly and hippy-dippy you sounded.

“‘Course that’s just all legend, but it is still pretty though, and I think it suits you nicely.”

Lesters’ eyes widened, and he tried to lift the stone from around his neck. “I can't! Y-you need this more than me!”

You snatched his hands from the cord and laced your fingers in his, shrugging.

“You deserve it baby, you deserve to be protected. You deserve to be happy and loved too! I’m plenty safe with you and Jonesy around. It’s your turn to be taken care of,” you leaned and pressed your forehead against his.

Reaching up, you rubbed his cheek, surprised when your hand came away wet. Looking up you saw that he was crying.

“Oh, Lester? What’s wrong sweetie?” you wiped away the streams of tears with your thumbs.

“N-nothing I just-” he closed his eyes and let out a choked sob. His hands came to rest atop yours. “No one’s ever t-told me that, that i d-deserve to be happy and s-safe!”

He burrowed his face in your shoulder and sobbed. You stood and held him there, rocking back and forth while rubbing circles on his back in through his hair. His arms gripped you tight enough to hurt, but you didn’t mind. Even as you cooed and shushed him, anger bubbled behind your soothing tone.

You were furious. Furious at his parents for treating him like he didn’t exist, at Bo for bullying him constantly, and at Vincent too. Even though Vincent wasn’t as nasty, he still brushed Lester off like a horsefly that wouldn’t leave him alone. When Lester tried to talk to him, show him something, even just say hi, Vincent would always sign the same things.

‘I’m busy,’

‘Go bother Bo,’

‘Lester please, I have a headache, be quiet,’

It made your blood boil and your vision go red. Yeah sure, Vincents’ mute and can’t eat or smile without his deformity causing him pain. Bo was treated like the devil incarnate by his parents in favor of Vincents’ artistic talent. But they had the same fucking parents. The same fucking childhood. The least they could do is treat him like something more than a piece of dirt. Some days you wondered if they even cared about him.

You snapped out of your ire when Lester pulled you into a tender kiss, lower lip still trembling slightly. You pulled back and planted kisses all over his face, on his nose, chin, eyelid, everywhere. He devolved into a fit of wet giggles, his nose crinkling as your lips tickled his handsome features. He wiped his eyes again and looked you in the eyes lovingly.

“I love you, Y/N,”

“I love you too, Lester,”

You smiled and gave him one final kiss. He beamed. Taking the stone, he held it up to his eye, peering through the hole at you.

“Well hey! Would’ya lookit that! I’ve already found myself a fairy! And a mighty cute one at that!~”

You giggled and pushed him away bashfully. “Go pack up the rest of our stuff ya goofball!”

>>>>>

Following the river, you continued to look for stuff along the winding trail. You snagged a pretty decent haul, all things considered. Animal bones and carcasses and rocks and some jewelry left behind by a camper. Nothing really out of the norm for the pair of you, and things were going great.

That is until you realize too little too late, that the sun had all but set, and left you in the dark with no idea of where you are. You tried to follow the creek down back the way you came and kept following it. And kept following it, and….

“Lester? I don’t recognize any of this…”

You hoped that Lester would put on his brave act and reassure you that yes, Y/n. He knew the woods like the back of his hand and that you would be home in no time. You did not get that.

“Yeah, me neither, I don’ know where the hell we ended up. It’s too dark for me to read my compass an’ I left the flashlights at Ambrose ‘cause I didn’t think we’d be out past dark,” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone. “Ah, damn it’s dead! Knew I shoulda charged it before I left this morning! Did you bring yours?”

The lack of panic and fear in his voice made your skin crawl. How the hell is he so calm??? And no, you didn’t bother to bring your phone with you this time, not wanting to be annoyed with phone calls from work. Lester seemed to notice your mounting panic and quickly set about comforting you.

“Y/N! Y/n, dont be upset, we’ll be ok! You got me an' Jonesy here to protect you. I’m pretty sure that this creek leads to the main road, and we can follow the road back to Ambrose. You have extra food in that basket right?”

“Uh, yeah, treats for Jonesy, some apples and an extra sandwich I think, and we have water in the canteens still,”

“Alrighty then, If worse comes to absolute worse, we’ll make camp for the night in the forest. Then I can make a fire and we’ll head out in th mornin' when it’s light out, ok? Hey…” He reached out and put a hand on your shoulder. “We’re gonna be ok.” he said with an air of finality, putting you somewhat at ease and strenghtening your resolve.

You continued to follow the creek, holding hands so you wouldn’t get separated. You walked on for what seemed like hours, but eventually, you came across the road Lester talked about. You would’ve cried out for joy if you weren't so goddamn tired. You hadn’t realized how far you went into the forest. Lester stepped out into the middle of the road and looked towards the sky, looking for something. You stepped out and looked up with him. You gasped at the sight of the sky. You had never seen so many stars in the sky before. Well, that’s a lie, Lester took you stargazing often, but it still stole your breath every time.

“Fuck” he whispered under his breath. “It’s a new moon,”

“Why’s that bad?” you asked.

“Can’t tell which way east is, ‘least not very easily,” he muttered.

He scanned the sky further, peering at it with an intense stare. Even though you were horribly, horribly lost, you were happy to be able to spend time with Lester. A little bit of impromptu stargazing was also a plus.

“Jesus, you think after a while i’d start to remember to bring the flashlights, huh? Guess you can’t teach an old dog new tricks,” He chuckled.

You reached out for Lesters’ hand again, squeezing it gently. He continued to curse under his breath before giving up on whatever it was he was looking for. “Y/N, I’m really sorry this turned into such a shitshow, I-”

“It’s ok pumpkin, shit happens sometimes. The only thing we can really do is try to do better next time,”

“Yeah, I guess,”

You both stood there staring at the sky, not knowing what to do or where to go from here. So you stood, and stared at the sky, in the middle of the road, like a couple o’ crazies.

You were so lost in thought that you didn’t notice the car approaching you in the road. A door slammed, jarring you out of your stupor. You rubbed your eyes, stuggling to adjust to the birghtness of the headlights. You heard a voice call out.

“Lester? Jonesy?” it was Bo, of all people, and he seemed to be somewhat concerned  for once in his goddamn life.

“Yeah we are we, just got,” Lester was cut off, the worry vanishing from Bo in an instant once he realized you guys were ok.

“WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?!?!? IT’S ALMOST ONE IN THE FUCKING MORNING AND YOU GUYS SAID YOU WOULD BE BACK AT DAWN!!!” he roared. “You haven’t been answering your phone Lester, and YOU, for whatever fucking reason, decided to leave yours at home, what in the fuck happened?!?”

“We got lost,” Lester shrugged.

“Lost?” he hissed. “Fucking lost? Let me guess, asswipe didn’t bother to bring flashlights did he?” Bo asked you, sarcasm and venom dripping from his voice like sour honey.

He was about to launch into another bought of cursing, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. Bo whipped around to face his twin, who signed something quickly. You couldn’t make it out in the darkness, but whatever he said, it pissed Bo off.

“Don’t you fuckin’ ‘Bo’ me, I’m tired of this lardass going ‘round ‘causin trouble!” He whipped towards you and jabbed his finger in your face. “And you! You-”

Something inside you snapped. You were exhausted, in pain, and flat out sick of everything.

“What?! I’m what Bo? I’m a worthless, good for nothin’ piece o shit? Huh? Just like your FUCKING BROTHER HUH?!?”

“Ya know what, now that you say it-” he smirked.

CRACK The air around you was still, and thick. Bo doubled over, trying to comprehend what happened. You clenched your jaw, refusing to show tears on your face, even as pain blossomed through your joints.

“Not another fucking word out of your goddamn mouth, Bo Sinclair, or so help me god I’m gonna be the one gluing your lips shut! Got it?” your voice quaked low and dangerous, and even Bo knew better than to try and talk back.

“The way you treat Lester is fucking shameful! The ONLY thing you seem to be good at is making people feel like shit, and I would fucking expect an ADULT MAN to have more emotional maturity THAN A FUCKING THREE OLD!!!” you felt your voice go shrill and high, warbling with rage.

“I DON’T GIVE A SHIT THAT YOU PUNCH PEOPLE ‘CAUSE YOUR DADDY DIDN'T LOVE YOU, ‘CAUSE NEWSFLASH, ASSHOLE, LESTER’S DADDY DIDN’T LOVE HIM EITHER, AND NEITHER DID HIS MOMMA!!! A detail you seem to fucking forget even though he’s YOUR FUCKING BROTHER, AND YOU SHOULD BE TREATING HIM WITH MORE RESPECT THAN YOU GIVE TO YOUR FUCKING PICKUP!!!

And you!”

Vincent jumped and almost fell backward when you turned to talk to him. You could see his eyes wide with fear under his waxy mask. Good. You wanted this lesson to fucking stick.

“You have less spine than your fucking wax statues! If you had even an ounce self respect, you’d grow a pair and stop putting up with Bo’s bullshit! Or at the very least, you’d stop cowering in the basement being all sad and tragic and try to be invested in what Lester is trying to say rather than blowing him off with bullshit excuses because you can’t be FUCKED to give shit!!!”

You finally let yourself pause, catching your breath. You heard Vincent shifting his weight on his feet, and felt the eye daggers Bo was stabbing you with. “You three are brothers, so fucking act like it,”

And with that, you grabbed Lester by the hand and led him to Bo’s truck. Neither Bo nor Vincent seemed to make any move to follow you. Opening the driver’s side door, you let Jonesy hop up into the back. Noticing that the keys were still in the ignition, you pulled them out and tossed them to Lester. You slid into the passenger seat and let out a silent sigh. Christ, did your head fucking hurt.

You noticed that Lester seemed a bit anxious, but you could tell that he was happy that someone stood up for him.

You looked over at the twins just in time to see Bo smack Vincent's hand away.

“DOn’t fuckin’ touch me!” he growled.

“Bo, get in the fucking truck,” you hissed.

Vincent scrambled through the driver’s side door into the backseat. You exhaled through your nose, noticing that he chose the seat opposite of where you were sitting.  Bo was a little late to the party, but you savored the humiliation of him having to crawl into the backseat of his truck.

Satisfied, you leaned against the headrest of your seat, trying to steady your breaths. The purr of the engine was a welcome distraction from the tense air around you. You must’ve fallen asleep at some point because the last thing you remember was Lester carrying you to bed. He gave you a kiss, whispering a gentle ‘thank you’ before you drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

BONUS:

Bo gritted his teeth and rolled his eyes.

“I cannot believe you are making me do this,” he mumbled.

“Please, Bo! I don’t wanna get yelled at again!” Vincent signed hastily.

Bo raised an eyebrow. “You really are a self absorbed prick, aren’t you?”

Vincent dropped his hands in exasperation before picking them up again. “Fine, It’s the right thing to do, and I’m a jerk just like you, now will you please-”

“Alright, alright,” Bo waved Vincents’ hands down.

He reluctantly got up from the couch and trudged up the stairs, Vincent tugging him along . Bo gently knocked on Lester’s bedroom door. Hearing a muffled ‘yes’, he opened it to see Lester standing near his dresser, putting his gear away. Y/n was fast asleep under the covers.

“She asleep?” He nodded his head towards your shape on the bed.

“Uh, yeah i think so, why?” Lester whispered.

“We need to talk,” Bo stated numbly.

“Oh...Uh, gimme a minuet,” he stuffed his pack in the wardrobe before following Bo and Vincent out into the living room.

Bo stood for a moment, shooting his twin a sour glare. He rubbed his forehead and inhaled sharply.

“I’m sorry,” he groused.

Vincent looked at him expectedly as Lester tilted his head in confusion. Bo let out a long-suffering sigh.

“I’m sorry fer always yellin’ at you and tellin’ you yer a piece a shit, ‘cause ya aren’t. I know that you don’t mean to forget things. The reason why I got so angry tonight was ‘cause I was so damn worried about you, but that’s no excuse. So, I’ll try and uh, ‘manage my emotional outbursts', his words, not mine” Bo nodded at his twin.

“What he’s trying to say is that we both care about you, and we’ve both been letting our emotions dictate how we treat you.” His hands hesitated slightly before continuing. “I...as much as would like to believe, I’m not any better than Bo just because I don’t yell at you. I’m self absorbed, and I need to be more self aware and not let myself get strung up over little things,”

Lester sniffed, wiping the tears that were forming on his eyelids. “You wax-heads, of course I know you guys care about me! Why else would you come looking for me at ‘one in the fucking morning’?” he snickered. “I do appreciate your apologies though...I know you an’ Vinnie ain’t got it easy, god knows you didn’t, I was there, but that was it. Just, there. A bystander. I can’t help but wonder if I had said or done something maybe-”

“Lester,” Bo interrupted. “What happened to me-what happened to us is not your fault, or your responsibility.”

“I figure, but the problem is I’m still a bystander now, here in Ambrose. I don’t ever take charge of anythin’, I just stand there and wait for one of you to tell me to do something. Heh...that’s not really useful, ain’t It? I want-I should be takin’ a more active role in the House of Wax, we all have our part to play, don’t we?” “You’re right, we all need to work together,” Vincent signed.

Bo rolled his eyes and huffed, shaking his head at Vincent.

“OOOKAYY, if this shit gets any sweetter im gonna have a heart attack and die!” Bo stood up to leave. “Goodnight,”

“Oh no, not so fast mister!”

Lester wrapped his arms around Bo and pulled him into a hug. Vincent was quick to hug him from behind, pinning Bo between him and Lester.

“Alrighty, I love you too...ok that’s enough you can let me go

now...guys?....Helloooo?”

“We're not lettin' go 'til you hug back~,” Lester sang out.

Vincent rested his head on Bo’s shoulder in place of making a sarcastic remark. Bo grumbled, throwing his arms around Lester, who in turn, squeezed Bo tighter.

“Hey! A Sinclair Sandwich! Ain’t had one of these in a long time,” Lester giggled.

“Happy now?” Bo muttered.

“Yeah,” he sighed.

Bo relaxed a little, allowing himself to sink into the physical affection. Vincent hummed happily in response, and Lester nuzzled into Bo’s other shoulder. Bo closed his eyes, and for a fleeting moment, believed that he was going to be okay.

-Mod Elith

[whitehotharlots]

Andrea Long Chu is the sad embodiment of the contemporary left

Andrea Long Chu’s Females was published about a year ago. It was heavily hyped but landed with mostly not-so-great reviews, and while I was going to try and pitch my own review I figured there was no need. Going through my notes from that period, however, I see how much Chu’s work—and its pre-release hype—presaged the sad state of the post-Bernie, post-hope, COVID-era left. I figured they’d be worth expanding upon here, even if I’m not getting paid to do so.

Chu isn’t even 30 years old, and Females is her debut book, and yet critics were already providing her with the sort of charitable soft-handedness typically reserved for literary masters or failed female political candidates. This is striking due to the purported intensity of the book: a love letter to would-be assassin Valerie Solanas, the thesis of which is that all humans are female, and that such is true because female-ness is a sort of terminal disease stemming not from biology but from one’s inevitable subjugation in larger social contexts. Everyone is a woman because everyone suffers. Big brain shit.

But, of course, not everyone is a female. Of course. Females are females only some of the time. But, also, everyone is a female. Femaleness is just a title, see. Which means it can be selectively applied whenever and however the author chooses to apply it. The concept of “female” lies outside the realm of verifiability. Suggesting to subject it to any form of logic or other means of adjudication means you’re missing the point. Femaleness simply exists, but only sometimes, and those sometimes just so happen to be identifiable only to someone possessed with as a large a brain as Ms. Chu. We are past the need for coherence, let alone truth or honesty. And if you don’t agree that’s a sign that you are broken—fragile, illiterate, hateful, humorless.

Chu’s writing—most famously, her breakthrough essay “On Liking Women”—establishes her prose style: long, schizophrenic paragraphs crammed with unsustainable metaphors meant to prove various fuzzy theses simultaneously. Her prose seems kinda sorta provocative but only when read on a sentence-by-sentence level, with the reader disregarding any usual expectations of cohesion or connection.

This emancipation from typical writerly expectations allows Chu to wallow proudly in self-contradiction and meaninglessness. As she notes herself, explicitly, meaning isn’t the point. Meaning doesn’t even exist. It’s just, like, a feeling:

I mean, I don’t like pissing people off per se. Yes, there is a pleasure to that sometimes, sure. I think that my biggest takeaway from graduate school is that people don’t say things or believe things—they say them because it makes them feel a particular way or believing them makes them feel a particular way. I’ve become hyper aware of that, and the sense in which I’m pissing people off is more about bringing that to consciousness for the reader. The reason you’re reacting against this is not because it contradicts what you think is true, it’s because it prevents you from having the feeling that the thing you think is the truth lets you feel.

And so she can get away with saying that of course she doesn’t actually believe that everyone is a female, the same as her idol Valerie Solanas didn’t actually want to kill all men. The writers, Chu and Valerie, are just sketching out a dumb idea as a fun little larf, to see how far they can push a manifestly absurd thought. If they just so happen to shoot a gay man at point blank range and/or make broader left movements so repulsive that decent people get driven away, so be it. And if any snowflakes complain about their tactics, well that’s just proof of how right they are. Provocation is justification—the ends and the means. The fact that this makes for disastrous and harmful politics is beside the point. All that matters is that Chu gets to say what she wants to say.

This blunt rhetorical move—which is difficult to describe without sounding like I’m exaggerating or making stuff up, since it’s so insane—papers over Chu’s revanchist and violent beliefs. Her work is soaked with approving portrayals of Solanas’ eliminationist rhetoric—of course, Chu doesn’t’ actually mean it, even though she does. Men are evil, even as they don’t really fully exist since everyone is a woman, ergo eliminating men improves the world. Chu goes so far as to suggest that being a trans woman makes her a bigger feminist than Solanas or any actual woman could ever be, because the act of her transitioning led to the world containing fewer men. Again: big brain shit.

I’ll leave it to a woman to comment on the imperiousness of a trans woman insisting that she is bestest and realest kind of woman, that biological women are somehow flawed imposters. I will stress, however, that such a claim comes as a means of justifying a politically disastrous assertion that more or less fully justifies the most reactionary gender critical arguments, which regard all trans women as simply mentally ill men (this line of reasoning is so incredibly stupid that even a dullard like Rod Drehar can rebut it with ease). Trans activists have spent years establishing an understanding of transsexualism as a matter of inherent identity—whether or not you agree with that assertion, you have to admit that it has political propriety and has gone a long way in normalizing transness. Chu rejects this out of hand, embracing instead the revanchist belief that transness is attributable to taking sexual joy in finding oneself embarrassed and/or feminized—an understanding of womanhood that is simultaneously essentialist and tokenizing. When asked about the materially negative potential in expressing such a belief, Chu reacts with a usual word salad of smug self-contradiction: 

EN: You say in the book that sissy porn was formative of your coming to consciousness as a trans woman. If you hadn’t found sissy porn, do you think it’s possible that you might have just continued to suffer in the not-knowing?

ALC: That’s a really good question. It’s plausible to me that I never would have figured it out, that it would have taken longer.

EN: How does that make you feel? Is that idea scary?

ALC: It isn’t really. Maybe it should be a little bit more, but it isn’t really. One of the things about desire is that you can not want something for the first 30 years of your life and wake up one day and suddenly want it—want it as if you might as well have always wanted it. That’s the tricky thing about how desire works. When you want something, there’s a way in which you engage in a kind of revisionism, the inability to believe that you could have ever wanted anything else.

EN: People often talk about the ubiquity of online porn as a bad thing—I’ve heard from lots of girlfriends that men getting educated about sex by watching porn leads to bad sex—but there seems to me a way in which this ubiquity is helping people to understand themselves, their sexuality and their gender identity.

ALC: While I don’t have the research to back this up, I would certainly anecdotally say that sissy porn has done something in terms of modern trans identity, culture, and awareness. Of course, it’s in the long line of sexual practices like crossdressing in which cross-gender identification becomes a key factor. It’s not that all of the sudden, in 2013, there was this thing and now there are trans people. However, it is undoubted that the Internet has done something in terms of either the sudden existence of more trans people or the sudden revelation that there are more trans people than anyone knew there were. Whether it’s creation or revelation, I think everyone would agree that the internet has had an enormous impact there.

One of the things I find so fascinating about sissy porn is that it’s not just that I can hear about these trans people who live 20 states away from me and that their experiences sound like mine. There is a component of it that’s just sheer mass communication and its transformative effect, but another part of it is that the internet itself can exert a feminizing force. That is the implicit claim of sissy porn, the idea that sissy porn made me trans is also the idea that Tumblr made me trans. So, the question there is whether or not the erotic experience that became possible with the Internet actually could exert an historically unique feminizing force. I like, at least as a speculative claim, to think about how the Internet itself is feminizing.

Politics, like, don’t matter. So, like, okay, nothing I say matters? So it’s okay if I say dumb and harmful shit because, like, they’re just words, man.

Chu can’t fully embrace this sort of gradeschool nihilism, though, because if communication was truly as meaningless as she claims then any old critic could come along and tell her to shut the fuck up. Even as she claims to eschew all previously existing means of adjudicating morality and coherence, she nonetheless relies on the cheapest means of making sure she maintains a platform: validation via accreditation. This is all simple victimhood hierarchy. Anyone who does not defer all of their own perceptions to someone higher up the hierarchy is inherently incorrect, their trepidations serving to validate the beliefs of the oppressed:

I like to joke that, as someone who is always right, the last thing I want is to be agreed with. [Laughs] I think the true narcissist probably wants to be hated in order to know that she’s superior. I absolutely do court disagreement in that sense. But what I like even better are arguments that bring about a shift in terms along an axis that wasn’t previously evident. So it’s not just that other people are wrong; it’s that their wrongness exists within a system of evaluation which itself is irrelevant.

Chu has summoned the most cynical possible interpretation of Walter Ong’s suggestion that “Writing is an act of violence disguised as an act of charity.” Of course, any effective piece of communication requires some degree of persuasion, convincing a reader, listener, viewer, or user to subjugate their perceptions to those of the communicator. Chu creates—not just leans on or benefits from, but actively posits and demands fealty to—the suggestion that her voice is the only one deserving of attention by virtue of it being her own. That’s it. That’s what all her blathering and bluster amount to. Political outcomes do not matter. Honesty does not matter. What matters is her, because she is her. 

This is the inevitable result of a discourse that prizes a communicator’s embodied identity markers more than anything those communicators are attempting to communicate, and in which a statement is rendered moral or true based only upon the presence or absence of certain identity markers. Lived experience trumps all else. A large, non-passing trans woman is therefore more correct than pretty much anyone else, no matter how harmful or absurd her statements may be. She is also better than them. And smarter. And gooder.

Designating lived experience and subjective feelings of safety as the only acceptable forms of adjudication has caused the left to prize individualism to a degree that would have made Ronald Reagan blush. And this may explain the lukewarm reception of Chu’s book.

While they heaped praise upon her before the books’ release, critics backed off once they realized that Females is an embarrassingly apt reflection of intersectional leftism—a muddling, incoherent mess, utterly disconnected from any attempt toward persuasion or consensus, the product of a movement that has come to regard neurosis as insight. The deranged mewlings of a grotesque halfwit are only digestable a few pages at a time. Any more than that, and we begin to see within them far too much of the things that define our awful movement and our terrifying moment.