#is it sex you lack? you can do that without any romantic connotations. have sex with your friends why dont you. have sex with a stranger.

[widevibratobitch]

honestly tho im so tired of this. this whole obsession with strictly romantic love is life's greatest scam and i really don't get why so many people buy into it to the point where they let it or its lack define their whole life

[iridescentmirrorsgenshin]

Alhaitham and Kaveh - not 'friends' but 'roommates'

(This is a reworked excerpt taken from my Haikaveh essay! If you're interested you can check it out here or as a pdf <3)

Due to Chinese game restrictions, explicit mentions of homosexuality or overt queer references have resulted in less implicit ways of conveying queer relationships or characters. Therefore, same-sex characters in romantic relationships are assigned the platonic status of “best friend” or “friends”.

As such, these restrictions can be used as guidelines in establishing queercoding within Genshin Impact. It is of note, however, that this rule does not mean that all characters who are canonically “friends” are in a romantic same-sex relationship. Differentiating between same-sex couples and platonic friends (who have all been assigned the label ‘friends’) can be done by identifying particular care undertaken to ‘style’ characters. This is done so by queercoding, as in, using taboos linked to queerness; references which point to romantic connotation; or omitting certain details which casts obscurity on the nature of their ‘friendship’.

Alhaitham and Kaveh’s relationship has been styled in this way, as although various titles have been given to their relationship status, there has been no definitive term supplied overall. Alhaitham tells the Traveller that the two are “roommates”, with Kaveh confirming this, although stating that they “used to be friend(s), but not anymore”.

Within Kaveh’s Character Stories, their history as “best friends” is a painful one of separation, which can be seen as akin to a break-up, and despite their lack of status as ‘friends’, the two share an intimate knowledge of the other that no other character is privy too.

Condensing their relationship down to ‘roommates’ is an oversimplification that the narrative challenges the player to question.

This is achieved through their rapport with each other, seen within Alhaitham purposefully goading Kaveh, something which he cannot be seen to do persistently with any other character, as well as Kaveh’s unique reactions to Alhaitham, which present a side to him unlike which can be observed in his interactions with others. Additionally, the two mention the other without them present, as Alhaitham mentions Kaveh unprompted twice within the Archon Quest and once within his Story Quest, and Kaveh is prone to discussing Alhaitham with those who are aware of them living together, as Collei observes: “Seems like you always include him in the conversation, even when he isn’t here…”

When the two confirm themselves to be roommates, this is immediately followed by Paimon asking Kaveh if they are friends, to which Kaveh does not give a definitive answer too. When Paimon asks Alhaitham the same question in the Archon Quest, Alhaitham evades the question, and turns it back on Paimon, who notes that “[she] doesn’t know. That’s why [she’s] asking,” to which Alhaitham then describes Kaveh as his roommate. Although, this still is an evasion of Paimon’s initial question, Alhaitham neither denies nor confirms their friendship status. The status of their relationship is constantly called into question, for the characters they interact with, and for the player.

This casts an ambiguity over their relationship which aligns with Chinese gaming regulations in regard to same-sex couples, which in turn, points to a certain ‘styling’ of relationship which differs from general platonic friendships within the game. Where both platonic friendships and same-sex relationships can only be openly dubbed as ‘friendship’, signifiers must be present in order to differentiate these platonic friendships from the non-platonic.

Obscurity of relationship status can be used to do so – where characters are not explicitly “friends”, but are evidently tied to each other in some way, more than their assigned platonic status. Here, Kaveh and Alhaitham are irrevocably connected beyond their “roommate” status, and although they are not currently described as “friends”, they used to be, “best friends” according to Kaveh’s Character Stories, which creates a gap for interpretation.

The player is encouraged to interpret the reason for the two’s parting of ways, along with the reason for their current rapport. Although Kaveh asserts that there is a mutual “disdain” between the two, Kaveh observably talks about Alhaitham enough for Tighnari to assert: “No dinner with Kaveh is complete without a few words about Alhaitham." Rather than out of disdain, it can be surmised that Kaveh talks about Alhaitham due to the fact that he cares, as he states that the reason he has so many troubles regarding his work is because he cares so much about it.

When paralleled with his troubles with Alhaitham, being that Alhaitham finds a way to “infuriate” him every time they talk, it can be inferred that Kaveh’s approach to dealing with his work is the same as to how he deals with Alhaitham.

If Kaveh’s assertation that the “disdain” between the two of them was true, then there is no basis for him to talk about Alhaitham as much as he does. This is due to his attitude in caring about something results in him verbally expounding the problem, the same behaviour he exhibits when dealing with Alhaitham. By his own reasoning, if Kaveh did not care about Alhaitham, he would not be so “infuriate[d]” by his words.

In turn, the player can see Alhaitham’s care of Kaveh manifest in his concern for Kaveh’s wellbeing within A Parade of Providence. In this sense, the rapport the two have currently which the narrative prompts the player to question can be explained. The two hold a mutual concern and care for the other, but due to elements in their past, they cannot address this, and thus it goes unspoken. The same can be said about the explicit status of their relationship, as no canon label applied to the two can truly explain their relationship, with ‘roommates’ being a clear oversimplification of their bond, and always followed up with the question of their friendship.

Alhaitham and Kaveh’s status as ‘friends’ is disrupted, not only due to the canon ending of their friendship in the past, but also in the current narrative of the game due to this refused label. Alhaitham and Kaveh do not adhere to the status of ‘friends’, either evading it (Alhaitham) or outright denying it (Kaveh), however, their bond remains central to each of their respective narratives, so much so that their differing viewpoints are integral to the other.

Alhaitham and Kaveh have been designed so that they are integral to each other, and the obscurity of their relationship acts as a signifier that their bond is not of a typical platonic friendship.

In Chinese gaming restrictions regulating platonic bonds and romantic bonds between same-sex characters as strictly ‘friendship’, Genshin Impact can be seen to subvert this in order to queercode. By creating an obscure bond between a same-sex relationship, a bond which the game constantly calls into question, a silence has been generated as to what the status of the relationship really is. The depth to Alhaitham and Kaveh’s relationship and the unspoken nature of it alludes to the queer taboo, in that its inability to be definitively labelled generates an otherness than that of an easily understood platonic bond.

[becca-e-barnes]

Limerence

Limerence: a state of mind resulting from romantic attraction, characterized by feelings of euphoria, the desire to have one's feelings reciprocated.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2.2K

Warnings: Angry/ hate sex, mention of an argument but nothing specific, unprotected sex, creampie, degradation, anal play, double penetration, one spank, vaginal fingering, mention of oral, just a little mirror stuff

Summary: I learned a new word last week and I chose to ignore its negative connotations. It's more fun that way.

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!!

Minors, do not interact.

Life is cruel sometimes.

He’s standing over there wearing a cream coloured Hawaiian shirt with a blue floral pattern and, in spite of yourself, you very much want to jump on him.

You can’t look at him though.  You’re convinced that if you look at him, everyone will know.  They’ll know he’s kissed just about every inch of your body.  They’ll know that you crave the way he touches you.  They’ll know that bringing him to orgasm often feels more euphoric than your own climax.  And they absolutely can’t know that.

His poker face is better than yours.  The wry smirk on his slim lips when his gaze flits over to you momentarily won’t give the two of you away and just seeing him look at you like that is enough to make you question whether you possess a single ounce of self control.  He’s better at this than you are, no doubt about it.  There’s plenty you can learn from him.

'Are you still being a bitch?' The message flashes up on the watch on your wrist.  Holy fuck, this man is irritating.

You unlock your phone to respond to the message, your thumbs move quickly across the keyboard.  'That depends.  Are you going to admit you were wrong?'  You glance over at him and see that he’s ignoring those he had previously been engaged in conversation with, in favour of responding to you.  The conversation goes on without him and no one is any the wiser that it’s you he’s texting.

'I wasn’t wrong.'

'Then yes, I’m still a bitch.'

'I thought as much.  But so we’re clear; you made your point in that dress.  Even if you are painfully stubborn.'

'I’d rather be stubborn than wrong.'

'That’s cute.'  You watch him slip his phone back into the pocket of his shorts once he sends the message, re-engaging with the conversation that he’d been neglecting for the few short minutes in which he’d focused his attention on you.

You’re certain he knows how frustrating he is. Surely he must know.

You’ve been at an impasse for over a week and in all honesty, neither of you can really remember how the argument started.  Did it even really matter anymore?  It’s not even so much about the disagreement, now it’s about pride and who’s willing to sacrifice theirs first.

That’s the problem with being equally stubborn - neither of you want to be the one to give in.  At this stage though, sex has been off the table much longer than you would have liked.  Nothing makes you desperate quite like a lack of orgasms and while you can do it yourself, you’d be the first to admit that it’s not even nearly the same.

The way you touch your own body is so different to how he does.  Your touch is borderline clinical sometimes.  It’s methodical and calculated because really, you’re only working towards an end goal.  You focus on release more than pleasure and that’s fine.  You achieve what you need to and that’s enough but the way he touches you is so different.  

When he’s taking you apart he takes his time, touching you because he simply needs to.  It’s evident that he gets off on your pleasure just as much as you get off on his.  There’s never any rush, delivering sensations that you don’t have the time or patience to administer when you do it yourself.  Pleasure with him feels luxurious.  It’s hedonistic and intimate; a perfect blend of satisfying and tender.

It’s hard not to miss that: sex so good that it’s both too much and not enough all at once.

'Do you think anyone would notice if I slipped my hand under your dress?'  The next message flashing up on your watch feels like he must have read your mind.

Your eyes dart around the groups of people attending the small get-together, all engrossed in their conversations and sipping their drinks in various little huddles around the bar.

'I can’t imagine they would.  You could probably bend me over this table and fuck me right in front of them and no one would be any the wiser.'

'I’m sure they’d notice but it’s a nice thought all the same.'  You can tell he’s imagining it and now so are you.  You can almost feel his two large hands, one either side of your waist, holding you tight as he plunges his length into you.  ‘Shut up.’ He’d whisper, letting go of your waist with one hand to place the fingers in your mouth, silencing your little over-pleasured sobs.  ‘Unless you want all your friends to watch you cum for me.’

You shouldn’t really want that, should you?  You shouldn’t want an audience.  The truth is, you know people there want him.  They want to see him the way you get to see him and the possessive part of you that you didn’t know you had until now wants to make sure no one else gets that privilege.  

Arguing or not, his cock is yours.

'I’m leaving in 10.  You’re welcome to join me so long as you promise not to run your mouth again.  You’ll like my hotel room.'  It’s nice to see his resolve weakening first because you certainly weren’t up for accepting defeat.

'You should know me better by now.  Running my mouth is what I’m good at.  Send me the address.'  You shoot the text back and realise he’s wearing that same wry smirk as before.  The very same one that’s tugging at the corner of your own lips.

'Give yourself some credit.  I’ve found your mouth has some other great uses.'  He seems proud of himself, following up with the hotel’s address before starting to make his goodbyes to the group.

You take separate taxis and he’s waiting for you in the lobby.  You’re far enough away from the prying eyes that at least you can be seen speaking to each other now.

Neither of you say a whole lot in the short walk up to his room, letting the door click closed behind you before you start to speak.

But right as you set your bag down his lips are on yours, hot and insistent, his body pressing you flush against the door.

“You’re so fucking annoying.”  He groans, nipping your bottom lip between his teeth.  He cups your throat with one hand, holding you in place to begin sucking on the exposed side of your neck.

His mouth begins to trail lower but not before you tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him back.

“You’re so much worse.”  You use as much of your strength as you can muster to push him back, leading him over to the bed, pressing him down onto it before straddling his lap.

Now it’s your turn, biting at his exposed throat, feeling his needy groans vibrate through his skin.  Undoing the first couple of buttons allows you enough space to nip and suck his collarbones, revelling in the way he melts into this.

He only gives in for a couple of minutes before he needs to feel like he’s back in control, holding your hips and flipping you both over so he’s got you pinned under him.

His hand trails up your thigh, pulling your dress up before two thick fingers sweep across your clothed sex. “You’re wet already.”  He muses, teasing you ever so gently.

“Incredible attention to detail, well done.”  You know you shouldn’t bite the hand and all but he’s a whole lot more fun when he’s angry.

“That mouth is going to get you in trouble some day.”  He’s smug as he withdraws his hand, delivering a gentle slap to your cunt.

It hurts in the most electric way, nerve endings lighting up at the painful stimulus and, in spite of yourself, you want him to do it again.

“Fuck, I didn’t think you’d like that.”  He sounds thrilled, delighted by a moan that you hadn’t even realised had escaped.  “Getting off on the way I slap your wet little cunt.  Do you know how fucked up that is?”  He shifts the thin cotton underwear out of the way, trailing his fingertip from your clit to your fluttering hole before pressing inside to the second knuckle.

“You take me like such a good girl.”  He muses, adding a second finger before pressing as deep as he can.  “It’s a shame you don’t act like one.”

“Maybe if you fucked me right, I’d act like one.”  You’re as quick to bruise his ego as he is to bruise yours.

“Ouch.”  He teases, curling his fingers inside you in the way he knows makes you see stars.  He fucks you perfectly and he knows it.  You act like a good girl when you want to.  You’re even.

“Are you even planning to fuck me?  Or maybe you just want to sit around and enjoy the sound of your own voice.”  It shouldn’t be so much fun to watch his face reflect his discontent but it really is.

“You.”  He begins before pulling your panties off, pushing your skirt up and arranging you on your hands and knees on the bed.  “Might be the most frustrating person I’ve ever met.”

You hear him undo his belt and zipper and a short while later, you feel the blunt head of his erection teasing your slit.

Now you understand why he thought you’d like this room.  The mirror strategically positioned right at the end of the bed lets you see his face, even in this position.

“I fucking better be.”  You tease, pressing your ass backwards, forcing his cock to slide into your eager cunt.  He meets you half way, thrusting the rest of the way into you with a force you only could’ve dreamed of.

“You are. So.  Damn.  Arrogant.”  He punctuates his sentence with equally powerful thrusts, his hand on the small of your back to hold you in place.

“And yet you’re still here, balls deep inside me.  Guess you don’t hate me that much.”  Your pride is short lived, establishing your own rhythm of thrusts that he eagerly meets.  Your fingers cling to the bedsheets, each rut into your body almost knocks the thoughts from your head.

He loses himself just as fast as you do.  You’re both far too pent up for this to last much longer.  Frustration bubbled over into lust and now it’s hit boiling point.

His body is yours to use just as much as yours is his.  

“You take me so well.”  You hear him groan and in the mirror you see him slip his thumb into his mouth before it disappears out of your view, pressing against the tight ring of muscle only he can see from this angle.

Oh.  You don’t often go there.

Your hesitation is short lived, the tip of his thumb presses inside you, slowly stretching out your tightest hole.

It feels amazing.  It’s a different type of fullness and when the initial discomfort subsides, you’re able to let yourself enjoy the sensation.

“I can feel myself inside you.”  He sounds almost broken and it’s delightful.  “Filling up both your pretty little holes.  I can’t last much longer.  Fuck, I’m so close.”

The stretch of his thumb in your ass is the only constant you’ve got with his cock slipping in and out of you.

Your own hand reaches down between your legs, rubbing your clit frantically, desperate to cum in time with him.

“Don’t you dare.”  You groan, watching him in the mirror.  “Don’t cum yet.”

He whines, his face screwed up in pleasure, doing his very best not to spill inside you just yet. At least this is one thing you can agree on.

“F-fuck, hurry up. I’m so close.”  He’s trying to maintain the same pace while holding himself back and you know it can’t be easy.

Your fingers graze your clit just right and before you know it, your moans are getting higher pitched, your holes fluttering around his cock and his thumb, squeezing both involuntarily as your orgasm takes over.  

It’s beyond intense.  There’s so much happening at once and within a few moments of your own climax, you feel your partner achieving his.  He’s pressed as deep inside you as possible, flooding your body with his release, groaning your name loud enough for his neighbours to hear.

---

The following morning with the argument forgotten, everything feels right again.  The Hawaiian shirt he’d worn yesterday evening is draped over your shoulders, unbuttoned, giving him access to worship your breasts.  His cock slips in and out of you beautifully, soft gasps from both of you filling the crisp early morning air.  Your hands are planted on his broad chest and your fingers tease the soft curls of hair on his chest.  It’s hard not to feel like he’s engulfing you, rather than the other way around.  He’s beneath you, he’s inside you and with his shirt draped over you, all you can smell is him.

It’s incredible, as close to perfect as you’re willing to believe exists.  There’s no rush.  There’s nowhere either of you need to be.  One orgasm can bleed into another and you can spend as long as you like enjoying each other’s bodies.  

[dwellordream]

“To understand what friendship between women was, we must first understand what it was not. Before turning to the ways in which female friendship illustrated the play of the Victorian gender system, we must develop grounds for distinguishing it from other relationships between women. This is a detour, for the subject of this chapter is female friendship; erotic desire and marriage between women are the focus of subsequent sections. But friendship, erotic infatuation, and female marriage have so often been conflated, and women’s relationships so commonly understood as essentially ambiguous, that the detour is a necessary one. 

The language of Victorian friendship was so ardent, the public face of female marriage so amicable, the comparisons between female friendship and marriage between men and women so constant, that it is no simple task to distinguish female friends from female lovers or female couples. The question “did they have sex?” is the first one on people’s lips today when confronted with a claim that women in the past were lovers—and it is almost always unanswerable. If firsthand testimony about sex is the standard for defining a relationship as sexual, then most Victorians never had sex. Scholars have yet to determine whether Thomas Carlyle was impotent; when, if ever, John Stuart Mill and Harriet Taylor consummated their relationship; or if Arthur Munby and Hannah Cullwick, whose diaries recorded their experiments with fetishes, cross-dressing, and bootlicking, also had genital intercourse.

Just as one can read hundreds of Victorian letters, diaries, and memoirs without finding a single mention of menstruation or excretion, one rarely finds even oblique references to sex between husband and wife. Men and women were equally reticent about sexual activity inside and outside of marriage. In a journal that described her courtship and wedding in detail, Lady Knightley dispatched the first weeks of wedded life in two lines: “Rainald and I entered on our new life in our own home. May God bless it to us” (173). Elizabeth Butler, whose autobiography included “a little sketch of [her] rather romantic meeting” with the man who became her husband, was similarly and typically laconic about a transition defined by sexual intercourse: “June 11 of that year, 1877, was my wedding day.” 

The lack of reliable evidence of sexual activity becomes less problematic, however, if we realize that sex matters because of the social relationships it creates and concentrate on those relationships. In Victorian England, sex was assumed to be part of marriage, but could also drop out of marriage without destroying a bond never defined by sex alone. The diaries and correspondence of Anne Lister and Charlotte Cushman provide solid evidence that nineteenth-century women had genital contact and orgasms with other women, but even more importantly, they demonstrate that sex created different kinds of connections. The fleeting encounters Lister had with women she met abroad were very different from the illicit but sustained affair Cushman had with a much younger woman who became her daughter-in-law. 

Those types of affairs were in turn worlds apart from the relationships with women that Lister and Cushman called marriages, a term that did not simply mean the relationships were sexual but also connoted shared households, mingled property, and assumptions about exclusivity and durability. We can best understand what kinds of relationships women had with each other not by hunting for evidence of sex, which even if we find it will not explain much, but rather by anchoring women’s own statements about their relationships in a larger context. 

The context I provide here is the complex linguistic field of lifewriting, which brings into focus two types of relationships often confused with friendship, indeed often called friendship, but significantly different from it: 1) unrequited passion and obsessive infatuation; and 2) life partnerships, which some Victorians described as marriages between women. The most famous and best-documented example of a Victorian woman’s avowed but unreciprocated passion for another woman is Edith Simcox’s lifelong love for George Eliot, which has made her a staple figure in histories of lesbianism.

Simcox (1844–1901) was a trade-union organizer and professional writer who regularly contributed book reviews to the periodical press and published fiction and nonfiction, including a study of women’s property ownership in ancient societies, discussed in chapter 5. From 1876 to 1900, Simcox kept a journal in a locked book that surfaced in 1930. Simcox gave her life story a title, The Autobiography of a Shirtmaker, that foregrounded her successful work as a labor activist, but its actual content focused on what Simcox called “the lovepassion of her life,” her longing for George Eliot as an unattainable, idealized beloved whom she called “my goddess” or, even more reverently, “Her.”

Simcox knowingly embraced a love that could not be returned, though she was aware of reciprocated, consummated sexual love between women. Her diary alludes to a “lovers’ quarrel” among three women she knew (61) and mentions her own rejection of a woman who “professed a feeling for me different from what she had ever had for any one, it might make her happiness if I could return it” (159). Tellingly, though twentieth-century scholars often refer to Simcox euphemistically as Eliot’s devoted “friend,” Simcox rarely used the term, and modeled herself instead on a courtly lover made all the more devoted by the one-sidedness of her passion. Simcox defined her diary as an “acta diurna amoris,” a daily act of love, and aspired to keep it with a constancy that would mirror her total absorption in Eliot (3). 

After bringing Eliot two valentines in February 1878, Simcox wrote: “Yesterday I went to see her, and have been in a calm glow of happiness since:—for no special reason, only that to have been near her happens to have that effect on me. . . . I did nothing but make reckless love to her . . . I had told her of my ambition to be allowed to lie silently at her feet as she pursued her occupations” (25). George Lewes, the companion whom Eliot’s friends referred to as her husband, was present at most of these scenes, and he and Eliot tolerated and even enjoyed Simcox’s attentions, which they consciously construed as loverlike. 

During a conversation about Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s love poems, Sonnets from the Portugese, Eliot told Simcox “she wished my letters could be printed in the same veiled way— ‘the Newest Heloise,’” thus situating Simcox’s missives to her in the tradition of amatory literature (39). In private, Simcox indulged fantasies of a more sensual connection, reflecting on a persistent “love that made the longing and molded the caress,” and recalling how “[i]n thinking of her, kisses used to form themselves instinctively on my lips—I seldom failed to kiss her a good night in thought” (136). 

In trying to define her love for Eliot, Simcox significantly refused to be content with one paradigm; instead, she accumulated analogies, comparing her love for Eliot to both “[m]arried love and passionate friendship” (60). Like a medieval ascetic, Simcox eroticized her lack of sexual fulfillment, arguing that her love was even more powerful than friendship or marriage because, in resigning herself to living “widowed of perfect joy,” she had felt “sharp flames consuming what was left . . . of selfish lust” (60).

In an unsent 1880 letter to Eliot, Simcox again found herself unable to select only one category to explain her love: “Do you see darling that I can only love you three lawful ways, idolatrously as Frater the Virgin Mary, in romance wise as Petrarch, Laura, or with a child’s fondness for the mother” (120). By implication, Simcox also suggested that there would be an unlawful way to love Eliot—as an adulterer who would usurp the uxurious role already occupied by Lewes. She concluded by explaining that her relationship with Eliot was too unequal to be a friendship (120). 

In the absence of the sociological and scientific shorthand provided by sexology or a codified subculture, and in the absence of a genuinely shared life that could be represented by a common history or joint possessions, women like Simcox represented their unrequited sexual desire for other women by extravagantly combining incompatible terms such as mother, lover, sister, friend, wife, and idol. Other women deployed similar rhetorical techniques of intensification and accumulation to express sexual loves that were not equally felt and did not lead to long-term partnerships. 

At age twenty, Sophia Jex-Blake (1840–1912), one of England’s first female doctors and an activist who helped open medical education to women, met philanthropist Octavia Hill (1838–1912). In a biography of Jex-Blake written in 1918 that still adhered to Victorian rhetorical conventions, Margaret Todd called her subject’s relationship with Hill a “friendship” but qualified it as one that made “the deepest impression . . . of any in the whole of her life.” Jex-Blake considered the degree of love she felt for women to be unusual, writing around 1858, “I believe I love women too much ever to love a man” (78). 

During a brief relationship that Hill soon broke off, the two women may have been sexually involved, but even so their feelings were never evenly matched. During the period when the women were closest, Hill reduced their bond to mere chumminess by calling herself and Jex-Blake “great companions” (85). By contrast, Jex-Blake was in awe of Hill and described her as both child and mother, roles often eroticized for Victorians, writing in her diary of “My dear loving strong child . . . I do love and reverence her” (85). Even after the relationship ended, Jex-Blake thought of Hill as her lifelong spouse, referring twenty years later to the “fanciful faithfulness” she maintained for her first love, to whom she left “the whole of her little property” in repeated wills (94). 

Like Simcox, Jex-Blake used intensified language to underscore the uniqueness of her emotions. When she described inviting Hill on a vacation that included a visit to Llangollen, a site made famous by the female couple who had lived there together, Jex-Blake wrote of her “heart beating like a hammer” (85) and then described Hill’s response: “She sunk her head on my lap silently, raised it in tears, then such a kiss!” (86). Female friends often exchanged kisses, but Jex-Blake’s account took the kiss out of the realm of friendship into one of heightened sensation. Although it was common for female friends to love each other and write gushingly about it, Simcox and Jex-Blake also wrote of feeling uncommon, different from the general run of women. 

Simcox identified closely with men and Jex-Blake felt unable to love men as most women did; both were extraordinarily autonomous, professionally successful, and self-conscious about the significance of their love for women. Other women also had intense erotic relationships that went beyond friendship, but were less self-conscious about those relationships, which they rarely saw as needing special explanation, and which usually lasted years or months rather than a lifetime. An example of outright insouciance about a deeply felt erotic fascination between women is found in the journals of Margaret Leicester Warren, written in the 1870s and published for private circulation in 1924. 

Little is known about Warren, who was born in 1847 and led the life of a typical upper-middle-class lady, attending church, studying drawing and music, and marrying a man in 1875. Her diary attests to a fondness for triangulated relationships that included an adolescent crush on her newlywed sister and her sister’s husband, and a brief, tumultuous engagement to a male cousin whose mother was the dramatic center of Warren’s intense emotions. In 1872, when Warren was twenty-five, she began to write incessantly about a distant cousin named Edith Leycester in entries that reveled in the experience of succumbing to another woman’s glamour: “Edith looked very beautiful and as usual I fell in love with her....Tonight Edith took me into her room. . . . She is like an enchanted princess. There is some charm or spell that has been thrown over her.”

 Numerous similar entries recorded an infatuation that combined daily familiarity with reverent mystification of a sophisticated and self-dramatizing woman. Warren’s fascination with Edith lasted several years. Unlike Simcox and Jex-Blake, Warren never self-consciously reflected that her feelings for Edith differed from conventional friendship, but like them, Warren ascribed an intensity, exclusivity, and volatility to her feelings for Edith absent from most accounts of female friendship. Indeed, Warren rarely referred to Edith as a friend when she wrote of her desire to see Edith every day and recorded their many exchanges of confidences, poetry, and gifts. 

Warren fetishized and idealized Edith, was fixated on her presence and absence, and used superlatives to describe the feelings she inspired. Within months of meeting Edith, most of Warren’s entries consisted of detailed reenactments of their daily visits and the emotions generated by each parting and reunion: “Edith was charming tonight and I was happier with her than I have ever been. She looked beautiful” (287). Warren created an erotic aura around Edith through the very act of writing about her, through a liberal use of adverbs and adjectives, and by infusing her friend’s most ordinary actions with dramatic implications. 

Describing how Edith invited her to visit her country home, for example, Warren wrote, “Edith came in and threw herself down on the chair and said quietly and gently ‘come to Toft!’” (291). Although Warren got along well with Edith’s rarely present husband, Rafe, she relished being alone with her and described the awkward, jealous scenes that took place whenever she had to share Edith with other women (362, 369). Warren found ways to dwell on the details of Edith’s beauty through references to fashion and contemporary art. Like many diarists, Warren had an almost novelistic capacity to observe and characterize people in terms of prevailing aesthetic forms. 

She described Edith with flowers in her hair, looking like a pre-Raphaelite painting, and recorded her desire to make images of Edith: “I sd. like to paint her. . . . It wd. make a good ‘golden witch’ a beautiful Enchantress” (290–91). A ride with Edith inspired Warren to pen another impassioned tableau: “All the way there in the brougham I looked at Edith’s beautiful profile, the lamp light shining on it, and the wind blowing her hair about—her face also, all lit up with enthusiasm and tenderness as she leant forward to Rafe and told him a long story . . . I . . . only thought how grand she was” (369–70). 

Shared confidences about Warren’s broken engagement to their male cousin became another medium for cultivating the women’s special intimacy. By assuring Warren that she did not side with the jilted fiance´, Edith declared an autonomous interest in her: “‘I wanted you to come here because— because I like you.’ She was sitting at her easel and never looking at me as she spoke for I was standing behind her, but when she said ‘because I like you,’ she looked backwards up at me with such an honest, soft, beautiful expression that any distrust I had still left of her trueness melted up into a cinder” (290). 

Just as Warren heightened her relationship with Edith by writing about it so effusively and at such length, the two women elevated it by coyly discussing what their interactions and feelings meant. Before one of her many departures from London, Edith asked Warren: “‘[A]re you sorry I am going? . . . How curious—why are you sorry?’ Then I told her a little of all she had done for me . . . how much life and pleasure and interest she had put into my life, and she said nothing but she just put out her hand and laid it on my hand and that from her means a great deal more than 100 things from anyone else” (293). Edith’s gesture drew on the repertory of friendship, but in the private theater of her journal, Warren transformed the touch of a hand into a uniquely meaningful clasp. 

This is not to say the relationship was one-sided. If Warren’s diary reports the two women’s interactions with any degree of accuracy, it is clear that both enjoyed creating an atmosphere of pent-up longing. Edith fed Warren’s infatuation with provocative questions and a skill for setting scenes: “She asked what things I cared for now? And I said with truth, for nothing— except seeing her” (303). Three days later, just before another of Edith’s departures, Warren paid a call: When tea was over, the dusk had begun and I . . . sat . . . at the open window. . . . By and bye Edith came and sat near me. . . . The room inside was nearly dark, but outside it was brilliant May moonlight. . . . Edith sat there ready to go, looking very pale and very sad with the light on her face. . . . We did not talk much. She asked me to go to the party tonight and to think of her at 11. . . . She said goodbye and she kissed me, for the first time. (303–4) 

Warren is exquisitely sensitive to every element that connotes eroticism: a darkened room, physical proximity, complicit silence, a romantic demand that the beloved remain present in her lover’s mind even when absent, a kiss whose uniqueness—“for the first time”—suggests a beginning. Any one of these actions would have been unremarkable between female friends, but comparison with other women’s diaries shows how distinctive it was for Warren to list so many gestures within one entry, without defining and therefore restricting their meaning. Warren’s attitude also distinguishes her emotions from those articulated by women who took their love for women in a more conjugal or sexual direction. Her journals combine exhaustive attention to the beloved with a pervasive indifference to interrogating what that fascination might mean. 

Never classified as friendship or love, Warren’s feelings for Edith had the advantages and limits of remaining in the realm of suggestion, where they could expand infinitely without ever being realized or checked. Women who consummated a mutual love and consolidated it by forming a conjugal household were less likely to leave records of their most impassioned moods and deeds than those whose love went unrequited or undefined. Indeed, women in what were sometimes called “female marriages” (a term I discuss further in chapter 5) used lifewriting to claim the privilege of privacy accorded to opposite-sex spouses. 

Like the lifewritings of women married to men, those of women in female marriages assumed intimacy and interdependence rather than displaying it, and folded their sexual bond into a social one. They described shared households and networks of acquaintances who recognized and thus legitimated the women’s coupledom, liberally using words such as “always,” “never,” and “every” to convey an iterated, daily familiarity more typical of spouses than friends. 

Martha Vicinus’s Intimate Friends cites many nineteenth-century women who described their relationships with other women as marriages, and Magnus Hirschfeld’s magisterial, international study of The Homosexuality of Men and Women (1914) noted that same sex couples often created “marriage-like associations characterized by the exclusivity and long duration of the relationships, the living together and the common household, the sharing of every interest, and often the existence of legitimate community property.” 

Sexual relationships of all stripes were most acceptable when their sexual nature was least visible as such but was instead manifested in terms of marital acts such as cohabitation, fidelity, financial solidarity, and adherence to middle-class norms of respectability. Because friendship between women was so clearly defined and prized, one way to acknowledge a female couple’s existence while respecting their privacy was to call women who were in effect married to each other “friends.” Given that “friends” was used to describe women who were lovers and women who were not, how can we tell when “friends” means more than just friends? 

…There are many instances of published writing acknowledging marital relationships between women by calling them friendships. Victorian women in female couples were not automatically subject to the exposure and scandal visited on opposite-sex couples who stepped outside the bounds of respectable sexual behavior. Instead, many female couples enjoyed both the right to privacy associated with marriage and the public privileges accorded to female friendship. The Halifax Guardian obituary of Anne Lister in 1840 recognized her longstanding spousal relationship with Anne Walker by calling her Lister’s “friend and companion,” a gratuitously compound phrase.

Emily Faithfull, whom we will encounter again in chapter 6, was a feminist with a long history of female lovers. An 1894 article entitled “An Afternoon Tea with Miss Emily Faithfull” described her home in Manchester, decorated by “Miss Charlotte Robinson,” whom Faithfull readily disclosed “shares house with me.”80 Faithfull left all her property to Robinson in a will that called her “my beloved friend” whose “countless services” and “affectionate tenderness and care . . . made the last few years of my life the happiest I ever spent.” To call one woman another’s superlative friend was not to disavow their marital relationship but to proclaim it in the language of the day.”

- Sharon Marcus, “Friendship and the Play of the System.” in Between Women: Friendship, Desire, and Marriage in Victorian England

[ianenjoyer]

an overly detailed analysis of every time Ian and Mickey talked about loving each other bc I love pain and angst apparently 

1. “You love me, and you’re gay.” -Ian, 3x09

So right off the bat this one was always the most shocking to me. Throughout the season, there were definitely hints that they were falling in love with each other/already in love but the fact that this is the first time we actually hear it hurts me so much. Especially because Ian was so sure. He wasn’t asking Mickey if he loves him or begging Mickey to love him. He just... knew that he did. This scene is so raw and painful and real because you just see two kids who are desperately in love with each other, but not allowed or able to show that in a healthy way, so they just end up lashing out at each other.

2. “You try sitting on your ass while the person you love--” -Ian, 3x11

Like I said: pain. So before, we heard that Ian knows Mickey loves him, but I always thought it was interesting that he focused on that instead of telling Mickey that he loves him. Because he does, and he definitely knew that. I think this speaks to Ian’s tendency to compartmentalize and only think of his emotions in terms of other people, which he does consistently throughout the show. So here we hear him admit it, but not to Mickey, and only because he’s drunk out of his mind. Ian is just one of those people that constantly keeps things bottled up inside and only deals with them when he reaches a breaking point, which he definitely did in this episode (and we see the fall out of this in 3x12).

2.5 (bc i forgot it the first time) “You love Mickey?” -Carl, 4x11

So I do think it’s really interesting that he says “I like how he smells” here instead of just saying yes. I mean I do think he likes how Mickey smells which is very adorable but he also definitely loved Mickey at this point and he was definitely aware of that. I think he didn’t say it for two reasons: one, he wasn’t ready to admit it out loud and two, he didn’t want Mickey to hear him say it. Before, being over-eager and too obvious about his feelings hadn’t been met with a good response from Mickey, so I think he was trying to avoid scaring him off, while also doing some pretty serious compartmentalization himself. This especially makes sense considering that they weren’t technically a couple here, and that Mickey had only just started admitting (through actions, not words) that what he and Ian had was about more than sex.

3. “You love him?” -Svetlana, 4x12

The dynamic between Mickey and Svet is a very interesting one, and I don’t know if anybody could ever fully pick it apart. But in this scene, you see an odd mutual understanding between them (which extends in season 5a). And what’s truly shocking is that Mickey says “maybe”, which is such a big step for him. Before, if somebody asked him that he would have completely avoided the question while probably blowing up at the person. But he says “maybe”, showing that, even if he doesn’t fully understand his feelings, he had definitely thought about it, and it doesn’t scare him like it used to. This is definitely because he came out and finally felt like he could really be with Ian without this sword hanging over his head (even though the circumstances of that weren’t great).

4. “I love you.” -Mickey, 5x06

God this one... breaks my heart. First of all, the fact that Mickey was the first one to say it would have been shocking in seasons 1-3, but it actually makes so much sense in season 5. Over and over again this season, Mickey’s shown that he loves Ian, but the fact that he can only say it when he thinks he’s losing Ian, and that it’s obvious he didn’t mean to say it, shows that he still hasn’t fully come to terms with his feelings, no matter how strong they are. 

5. “You used to love me--now you don’t even know who I am.” Ian, 5x12

This one is almost identical to #1, except with the added piece that Ian no longer thinks he deserves to be loved. This one is so fascinating to me, because it shows, once again, that Ian projects his emotions onto other people instead of dealing with his own feelings. He tells Mickey that he used to love him, even though there’s been no indication from Mickey that he no longer loves him. He says that Mickey doesn’t know who he is when, really, he’s the one that doesn’t know who he is. He put words into Mickey’s mouth, because that’s what he believed to be true, and I really don’t think that at this point anything could have convinced him otherwise. The lack of self-worth that comes with having a mental illness is so debilitating and all-consuming that no amount of reasoning from Mickey would have done much to convince him that he deserved what Mickey was offering to give him. 

6. “I love you.” -Mickey, 5x12

So while we have Ian telling Mickey that he used to love him, Mickey counters by just saying how he feels to his face. I think that seeing Ian go though what he went through, and almost losing him like three times made it so that Mickey could no longer deny his feelings. But like I said, Ian had it so cemented in his mind that he was doomed and fucked for life, that I don’t think anything could have gotten through to him at this point. And of course at this point Noel left the show, so we never got to see what could have happened between them if Mickey had stayed. (I 100% think they would have gotten back together sometime in late season 6 after Ian reached a stable place again but whatever).

7. “I love you.” -Ian, 7x11

Fuck. 7x10 and 7x11 are such bittersweet episodes because while it does make it so clear that Ian and Mickey are the loves of each others lives, it’s also when they thought they would never see each other again. What’s extra sad it that this is the first time we’ve ever heard Ian say this. And it’s a goodbye. The only time Ian can really face his emotions head on is when he’s forced to, and he was definitely forced to here. He loves Mickey. He knows Mickey loves him. But that didn’t really matter here, and it’s so tragic, but also really realistic. As for Mickey, he doesn’t even seem surprised--because he wasn’t. He wouldn’t have asked Ian to come if he didn’t know he loved him. This scene is extra heartbreaking because of that. This whole thing just serves as a reminder that sometimes love isn’t enough, and that sometimes there are forces bigger than any two people at play, which I think has always been a central idea to their story.

8. “I love you.” “I know, love you too.” Ian and Mickey, 10x03

Mutual ‘I love you!!!! It took like 10 years but it finally happened. They say it like they’ve said it a thousand time before, which makes me think that it’s definitely not the first time they’ve said it. There’s not really much to talk about here except that finally they’re allowed to love each other. Sure it’s not an ideal situation, but it is one where there are no forces actively working to keep them apart, which is so wonderful. When Ian and Mickey are allowed to just be, they work so well. Even though they’re saying goodbye here, it’s not a real one, not like the break up or the border. It’s temporary and they both know that so for once, them saying ‘i love you’ is a happy (or at least bittersweet) thing instead of the tragedy it was all of the other times.

9. “I love you…and I trust you.” -Ian, 10x08

Remember that quote where Fiona tells Jimmysteve that to her (and all the Gallaghers) trust is bigger than love? Yeah. Anyways his scene is tough because while I don’t think Ian was necessarily lying about genuinely wanting to marry Mickey and the legal stuff just being bonus, I do think he was downplaying the importance, both to himself and Mickey. And at the courthouse, once the bonus of spousal privilege wasn’t needed, he definitely started to realize the magnitude of the situation and what connotations marriage held for him. I mean marriage isn’t something you should just decide on a whim, no matter how much you love somebody and I think he realized that the second the impending threat was gone.

10. “Mickey, I love you!” -Ian 10x08

This is him making it as clear as possible to Mickey that it’s marriage that’s the problem, not him. He saw how heartbroken Mickey was when he didn’t sign the papers, and was basically doing damage control at this point. The problem was, Mickey couldn’t see through his initial heartbreak to really listen to what Ian was saying, or try to understand where he was coming from. I think that Mickey is an incredibly understanding person, but this was just one time too many for him.

11. “You’re just saying you don’t love me enough now.” -Mickey, 10x09

This is probably the first time we’ve ever seen Mickey question Ian’s feelings for him. I think that at the courthouse, he was just so blatantly reminded of the break up and the border that he wasn’t thinking rationally. He was so terrified at the prospect of Ian not choosing him, that he couldn’t listen to Ian’s (pretty reasonable) explanation for why he didn’t get married. However, I don’t think he really believed what he was saying, especially because of how petty he was being with Byron, and how obvious he made it that he would instantly go back to Ian if he proposed. But it still is really sad that he was reminded of that all over again after believing that he and Ian were gonna get married and that he was never going to have to worry about that again.

12. “How do you know you love me?” -Ian, 10x09

I’ve written a meta on this before but here I go again. He’s once again assuming that Mickey couldn’t possibly love him--that he couldn’t possibly want to be with him forever. Not because Mickey’s done anything to indicate that, but because that��s what he thinks Mickey should feel. He genuinely can’t believe that Mickey would want to be with somebody like him, especially because of what he saw with Monica and the way she destroyed relationship after relationship (both romantic and familial). I don’t think he sees himself as being all that different from Monica, so even though that’s definitely not something Mickey would ever care about, it weighs on him heavily (and probably always will). This whole thing just so directly parallels the break up, and it’s so sad to think that, after everything, Ian still doesn’t think he’s worthy of the kind of love Mickey has for him.

13. “I love you Mickey Milkovich. More than anything.” -Ian, 10x10

More than anything!! God, the proposal was a little underwhelming but this line!! It’s Ian choosing to get past all of his doubts because his love for Mickey is bigger to him than they could ever be. Like I said, I don’t think he’ll ever fully be over his insecurities, but he can definitely choose to let Mickey in and have hope that they can work through it together. And even though Mickey knew that Ian loved him and was basically just biding his time, it must have felt amazing for him to hear it put so clearly like this.

14. “Look I love you. I love you.” -Mickey, 10x12

First of all, the way he says it is so amazing. Second of all, there isn’t much to say about this except that it’s so indicative of his growth. Like he went from being closeted and terrified, to blurting out how he feels in a room full of people. That is such a beautiful thing and I get really emo whenever I think about it. 

15. “To love and to cherish you ‘til death do us part.” -Ian and Mickey, 10x12

I actually really love that they used traditional vows for their wedding. So much of their relationship was complicated and hard, so to have something very simplistic but meaningful as their vows was so perfect. And the way they say them... they’re being so sincere and so honest. They really mean what they’re saying. They love each other!! And they’re married!! Wow!! That’s all I have to say about this.

[canvas-the-florist]

Two Halves Make a Whole

Ship(s): Romantic Logince, Background Platonic Moxiety, Platonic Dukeceit, Creativitwins (they’re all friends okay I make the rules)

Warnings: Swearing, blood mention and mutilation of meat, alcohol mention, NSFW mention (not that much just like… saying someone had sex in a sentence), food mention, possible second hand embarrassment

Summary: The thing about idioms is that Logan has a hard time understanding them metaphorically, and tends to stick with the more logical reasons. Which can be confusing to the others when he starts calling Roman his “other half”. (Thank you to @hteragram-x for letting me use their post as inspiration <3)

Word Count: ~2.7k

-

   They had just finished up recording a video. Something about accepting trauma and accepting that you’re allowed to move on from it. Thomas went up to his room for a nap while Patton walked over to sit by Virgil on the stairs. Roman wrapped his arm around Logan’s shoulders with a big smile. “You did so well, Pocket Protector! Not as well as me but I’m sure you’ll catch up soon!”

   Logan rolled his eyes and moved out from under Roman’s arm and crossed his. “Thanks. You were… adequate as well. Despite messing up a three sentence line five times.”

   Roman let out a loud scoff attracting the attention of Patton and Virgil. Patton covered up a laugh with a cough that wasn’t very convincing. “It was a very difficult line, Logan! How dare you accuse Creativity of messing up!”

   “Did Princey mess up another line?” Virgil asked from his place on the stairs. Patton punched his arm, muttering that it was rude. “I’m just asking a question, Pops. I’m not intending to be mean.”

   “Virgil!” Roman was red in the face with embarrassment and turned back to Logan who had a small smile. Roman’s face softened slightly over his little giggle before remembering he was supposed to be upset. “Logan you sicked Virgil on me!”

   “I do not believe that Virgil is sick. If he is, we should attend to that immediately.”

   “That was an expression, Alan Boring.” Roman corrected. “Do you want me to add a vocab card?”

   “Yes, thank you.” Roman gave a thumbs up and sunk out. Logan walked over to the remaining sides. “Well, my other half is working on that I believe we should cover what to do to keep Thomas healthy during the editing process for the video.”

   Virgil fell down a step causing Patton to fall to the ground completely. Virgil coughed and moved back up while Logan just looked confused. “Your other half?”

   “Yes?” Logan pulled out a vocab card. “There is a theory that the brain is composed of two parts, logic and creativity. Two halves making a whole person. While this is not factual I thought the idiom would work with Roman and myself. Is that not correct?”

   “Logan-” Virgil started but Patton cut him off.

   “That’s really sweet that you’re picking up nicknames like Roman and I! I’m sure that Roman would appreciate it. Too bad he wasn’t here to see or understand your quip.”

   At this point Roman showed up with about three index cards in his hands. He walked over to the others staring at his cards as he moved. “Okay so I made the card but then I got distracted and doodled on these ones but I think they turned out okay. So, I want Patton’s validation on- Wait are you guys talking about the schedule without me? Rude.”

   “My apologies, Roman, we haven't covered anything important yet as I had to explain a joke but I would like your contributions to this conversation as well.” Logan gave a smile and Roman tightened his grip on the cards. “Are you going to hand me the card, Roman?”

   “Oh yeah, here you go.” Roman had a crush and didn’t want to do shit about it.

   The talk took awhile. Especially after Janus and Remus joined which was just chaos disguised as two sides. But that wasn’t the only chaos afoot! A few hours after the meeting and a lot hours past when Thomas should have been asleep, Virgil walked to Patton’s room, knocking on the door softly. Worried that he was too quiet he was about to knock again when the door swung open. Virgil quickly backed up to avoid accidentally punching Thomas’s morality.

   “Uh, hey Patton. Can we talk?” He asked, now fidgeting with his hands.

   Patton gave a concerned look but nodded and moved out of the way to let Virgil in. He closed the door and turned to Virgil with a comforting smile. “You seem nervous, kiddo. Why don’t you hold one of those plushies? That usually helps me.”

   He grabbed a bean filled one that looked like a tiny elephant without a mouth and beads for eyes. Virgil tossed it in between his hands for a few moments while Patton sat down across from him. “I’m just going to get into it before I talk myself out of it. Why didn’t you tell Logan about him using a pet name for Roman?”

   Patton blinked before smiling. “Oh, I wasn’t expecting that. Well, that’s an easy one Virgil! I think that this will be good for Logan. Using nicknames is something that an emotional side would do. This might be his way of opening up.”

   “Are… Are you sure? This seems more like… Deceit’s thing.”

   “Well, his name is Janus, Virgil and we don’t see eye to eye but I think that Logan becoming honest with his emotions is a good thing. You don’t agree and you can tell him if you want. I won’t take that from you. Just consider it.”

   Virgil held the elephant up to his face and sighed. He pulled up his legs so he was able to rest his chin on his knees. “I guess it would be embarrassing to know you’ve been using a word with romantic connotations without knowing it…” He made direct eye contact with Patton who was listening to what Virgil had to say. “You think this is going to be good for him?” He nodded and Virgil dropped his legs back to the ground. “Okay, we won’t tell him. I’ll tell him if he asks but if you think this is the right thing to do, I trust you.”

   “Thank you, Virgil.”

-

   Janus, Roman, Logan, and Patton were having a picnic in the imagination. Virgil and Remus decided not to go for separate reasons. Virgil mumbled something unintelligible and hissed at Janus before sinking out quickly while Remus was busy painting over a copy of Vincient Van Gogh’s “Two Rats” with what seemed to be blended pork rinds and blood. Janus had a cup of wine, Patton had a capri-sun, Roman had a lemonade, and Logan just had water. They were having a… civil conversation on whether 100 lions or 100 pokemon would win in a fight.

   “Bitch you know that pokemon would win!” Roman yelled pointing at Janus dramatically, who was nursing his wine. “They have magic powers! Lions are just animals!”

   Janus took a sip and let out a laugh. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Pokemon are over glorified rats at most.”

   “Why do they have to fight at all?” Patton asked, pretending not to enjoy Janus and Roman having a conversation that wouldn’t end in tears. He was genuinely upset about the fighting even if it meant two of his friends were finally interacting. “Couldn’t they just be friends?”

   “Do I have to be the one to point out that pokemon don’t exist?”

   Roman stuck out his tongue and picked up his glass again. “It’s the principle of the thing.”

   “Very well, if my other half says so. The lions would win.” Logan reached for an orange slice calmly as Janus raised an eyebrow. Roman was so offended by Logan’s side of the story that he didn’t even notice Patton trying not to choke on his drink.

   “Oh so you’re on the Lying King’s side?”

   “Lions hunt in a group and as I understand pokemon they fight one at a time in a turn based system. For a fight the lions would have a higher advantage.” Logan put the slice in his mouth while Roman narrowed his eyes.

   “What about legendaries?!”

   The fight continued for thirty minutes and Patton decided that the picnic was over. Janus came back to the dark side and hung up his cape in his room. He turned to Remus. “How did the painting go?”

   “Oh just wonderful, the entrails made a smiley face! Look!” Remus held up the canvas too close to Janus’s face. He took a step back and looked it over. If it wasn’t covered in guts it did look rather intriguing and interesting to look at. Janus clapped his hands together.

   “It looks amazing, Remus. Better than the original!” Janus wasn’t lying (for once) because it was just a shitty thing to do when someone is asking for feedback on art.

   “Thanks Jan! How’d the orgy with the light sides and my brother go?”

   Janus shrugged. “Just detestable. The sandwiches lacked but I did find out some information. Were you aware that your brother and Logic are dating?”

   Remus put his hands to his cheeks with an over dramatic gasp. “You’re telling me that little Roman is boning the nerd?! This is the best thing that’s happened since radiation poisoning!”

   “Yeah, I agree. So, want to watch Into the Woods?”

   “Is that even a question dipshit?!”

-

   Roman, Remus, and Logan were going over the storyboards for the next Sanders Sides. Creativities and Logic. It was going well, and Roman was feeling confident that it was going to be fun, even if they definitely weren’t getting it out on time. Logan got up and stretched.

“We’ve been working for two hours and 37 minutes we should take a break. I will bring us snacks. Do you want anything?”

   “Strawberries.”

   “No thanks I brought my own.”

   “Okay, strawberries for my other half and an empty glass for Remus.”

   “Thanks Logan!” Roman hadn’t taken his eyes off the notes, scanning for any discrepancies or something that could be done better while Remus looked over his shoulder taking a bite of deodorant. They stayed in silence for a second before Roman felt Remus staring at him and finally looked up. “What?”

   “So how long have you and Logie-Poo been having sex?”

   “I… what? We’re not- Why would you assume that???” Roman’s face went red and looked incredulously at his brother.

   “Jan-Jan told me that you and Logan have been ‘dating’ two weeks ago. And he just called you ‘his other half’ like a gay person. Are you not…” Remus made a lewd gesture with his hands.

   “No! We’re not… Wait… his other half? Did, did Logan really call me that?”

   “Wow! You’re really oblivious!”

   “Umm, shut up!” Roman’s face turned red as he hid it in his hands, completely flustered and unsure how to react to the situation. Had Logan been hitting on him for two weeks? Had it been longer than that? Remus laughed at him and hit his back. Roman rolled his eyes and sat back up. “What should I even do about this? I’m kind of tempted just to hide this in the back of my head for five years or some sort of grand gesture… Those are romantic, right?”

   “Or you could just make out with him! Well, consensually.” Roman punched him and Remus just kept giggling. “He HAS been calling you a disgustingly cute pet name for a LONG ASS time, dude… Haha ass…” Remus seemed to space out after that so Roman sunk out and appeared again in the living room. And Logan just so happened to be reading a book on the couch. Roman blushed again and cleared his throat.

   “Logan I need to talk to you.”

   He raised an eyebrow, closing his book after putting in a bookmark. Roman’s fist clenched around his sash to calm his nerves. “You wouldn’t NEED to talk to me for any reason so I’m going to assume you mean that you have some information to convey to me?”

   “I… umm, yeah.” Roman took a deep breath, closing his eyes. “Why… Why have you been calling me your ‘Other Half’?” He leaned his head back and tried to calm down. He’s had a crush on Logan for a while and there was a sliver of a chance it might be reciprocated. Roman kind of felt like crying.

   “Oh, that?” Logan took a deep breath in and smiled, not that Roman could see. “Well, there’s an incorrect theory about the right and left hemispheres of the brain being logic and creativity. Therefore, you would be my other half.”

   Roman didn’t look at Logan, trying not to feel too disappointed. “That makes sense. Thanks for telling me, Logan. I’ll see you later…” His hand dropped to his side and he got ready to sink out, focusing only on his breathing. He made eye contact with Logan to see genuine confusion on his face. Roman gave a smile and began sinking out-

   “Roman wait!” He stopped. Logan had stood up and ran up to him. “Is that not what you wanted? I’m going to be direct because this is confusing to me but… Roman do you reciprocate romantic feelings for me? Because I really want to date you!”

   He didn’t respond immediately. Roman searched Logan’s face and he seemed to be meaning this. The passion on his face almost made Roman melt. He nodded slightly and decided for the first and only time to take Remus’s advice. Roman leaned towards Logan, grabbing his tie, and kissed him.

-

  The sides were hanging out in the kitchen while they were all working together to make a fam-ILY dinner. Virgil was tapping his foot nervously while vaguely listening to whatever Remus was ranting about. Patton and Janus were putting together the ingredients for a vegetable pie (excluding carrots of course) while Logan was making orange juice. Roman sat on the counter bantering with Janus. He laughed loudly and boldly, wiping a tear from his eye when his snake friend made a particularly bad pun.

   “Roman, my other half, would you please pass over the raspberries?” Logan asked easily. Virgil grumbled nervously, looking over at Patton, who was in a flour-based food fight with Remus. He sighed loudly and walked over Logan, finally cracking.

   He breathed in, ringing his hands. “Logan you’ve been calling Roman a pet name this entire time! The left brain right brain thing isn’t why people say my other half! I’m sorry for not telling you but Patton said to!”

   Roman and Logan looked at each other before looking back at Virgil. Roman quietly handed the raspberries to Logan before giving a soft smile. “Didn’t you know? Logan and I have been together, Storm cloud. It’s been a pet name this entire time.” Janus snickered to himself while putting the pie in but decided not to say anything.

   “You have?” Virgil asked.

   Logan nodded. “Yes, Virgil. Roman and I are indeed in a romantic relationship. Now, we’re going to set the table. Grab the plates?”

   Virgil stayed speechless, frozen in the kitchen until he got hit on his shoulder with flour. Roman got out the forks and walked to the table while Logan continued stirring the orange juice concentrate. After the pie finished, Patton helped serve everyone. Virgil stayed silent, with his forehead leaning on the table in shame. Eventually he started joining the conversation, ignoring his own embarrassment.

   When everyone finished up dinner. Logan volunteered to wash the dishes and Roman was the slowest to put away the food, leaving the two of them alone in the kitchen. Roman gave Logan a hug from the back.

   “Your adorable, Logan.”

   “It’s ‘you’re’, Roman.” He corrected calmly, cleaning off a plate.

   “What? How did you- never mind. You ARE adorable, Logan. Even when you’re acting like a smartass.” Logan chuckled and twisted back to face Roman. He wrapped his arms around Roman to make it a full hug. “This is nice. I’m glad we’re dating.”

   “Even when I’m a smart ass, like you said.”

   “Even then.”

Taglist: @bullet-tothefeels @logan-sanders-enthusiast @local-art-cryptid @lizzy-lineart @jasmine-loves @justanonymous @enby-wizard @openthedoorplease @crossiantgay @meowthefluffy @as-the-stars-foretold @sablesides @thedukeofdeodorant-main

[princesskokichi]

HAPPY NON-BINARY DAY MIYA!! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!! YOUR VALID!! AHAHAHAAHAH 🥺🥺🥺💕 - Kiibo SIMp 😭💖

aaaaaa !!! thank you so so so much !!! i love you just as much and thank you for being such a sweetheart !!! 

~ storytime with miya ~

[ warning : personal story, mentions of ab*se, h*r*ssment, family issues ]

i struggled a lot while trying to figure out who i am. while most kids my age were starting to get partners and going on dates, and i didn’t want to ever. i thought that having a partner meant that i had to be someone’s girlfriend - i had to have sex with someone. i didn’t want either. i didn’t want to be called “ girlfriend “ and i didn’t want to have sex. i was constantly told that my lack of clinging to my gender or sexuality was because of the abuse and trauma i endured during my childhood. that’s what people labeled me as. a scarred girl with too much trauma.

i simply didn’t care about anything that most people cared about, because it had no meaning to me. i would do things that would be considered lewd or nasty to other people, like sitting with my legs spread out while wearing a dress or not caring if i wore a bra or if my shirt was showing too much cleavage. i didn’t care. i still don’t care, really, but i’ve learned what’s considered to be socially acceptable, but sometimes i still get pissed off because my brother can go without a shirt around home and i can’t not wear pants even though my underwear covers everything. 

my body is just a human body, i don’t really think of any part of me being “ sexual “ or “ nonsexual. “ it wasn’t made for sex, it was made to help me continue living every day. 

while a lot of people who experience childhood trauma similar to what i went through go on to be hypersexual or extremely uncomfortable about sexual situations, i didn’t. i felt,, empty when talking about things such as sexuality or gender. i experienced having crushes, and i know i’m romantically attracted to all genders but. i’ve never experienced actual “ lust “ or wanting to be sexual with anyone. sometimes i thought i did, but every time i thought about it deeper, it turned out that i was just missing being intimate with someone. sex has no meaning to me other than being intimate with the other partner and having children. in the future, i think the only reason i would engage in sex is for children only. it holds no meaning to me, although i like to joke about it. i like to say i would fuck aizawa sensei senseless, but in real life i wouldn’t.

every time i would get into a situation that looked like it was heading that way, i would clam up. i wouldn’t get fearful or nervous, i just felt out of place. i felt like i didn’t want to be there, that eating pizza and watching netflix was better that what i was doing at that moment. so any time i would have a partner, i would turn them down if things got too heated. i lost a lot of good people that way. likewise, i myself wouldn’t realize i was being lewd with them. i would take off my shirt while chilling with them because i thought it was hot. it wasn’t me going to initiate sex, i was just trying to get comfortable. but i never learned how to convey that to anyone. even still, i don’t think i could if someone asked me to explain my lack of sexual interest.

i didn’t see my body as something sexual, and i would forget that other’s did. my body was just,, my body. that was it.

i felt odd about not caring about sexuality or gender. i wore what i want, and i didn’t care what anyone called me. but for some reason, i had a problem with my deadname. i hated it. i still hate it. so it never made sense to me that i would care about such an arbitrary thing when things that have other people so caught up and that everyone around me seemed to care about. i loved who i loved, and i dressed how i wanted. to be honest, i still wonder what prompted me to be so different from other normal trauma victims, but i doubt i’ll ever know the answer to that. life is fickle like that.

but because i never felt any ties to my personal gender, i felt,, out of the loop on some things. i liked wearing dresses but i didn’t feel like a girl. i wore make up but didn’t feel feminine. my body grew as i got older and i grew into this mature female form, but i never felt like a / girl /.

likewise, i never felt like a boy. i liked to rough-house and fight around with the boys but never felt like i was one. i liked to cut my hair short and dress like a guy but i never felt like i was one. for the longest time i thought i was experiencing dysphoria about my body, so i believed i was trans for a little while. i thought it was weird that i was trans but still liked to dress and act like a girl at some points. i didn’t know what was going on.

however, i still didn’t care about what pronouns people used for me, although i found that most trans are adamant for their pronouns because it’s the only thing that links them to their gender other than their name. i didn’t care what people called me. i was the mom-friend in my irl friend group, but the big-brother to my online group chat. even though my name - miya - is feminine in connotation, i never felt / female / but never felt / male / either. 

i knew that nonbinary existed, but i think i was in denial. i think it was some internalized cissexism ( i think that’s the word. please correct me if i’m wrong ) because it didn’t make sense to me that that could be a thing when it seemed like everyone else was so hooked on gender and sexuality. i began to believe that being ace and nonbinary was taboo of sorts. i thought that i was built wrong. that everyone had sexual attraction, and everyone felt connected to a gender. i was so wrong back then. 

a little while after i realized i wasn’t trans, i got a bit of hate for slandering the name of transpeople. a few people online were calling me fake and invalid, that i wsa / wrong / and they basically voiced every fear that i had held in for so long. i was lost after that. i didn’t know who i was, or where i was going. i was young and dumb, even though it was only a little while ago. 

it was a slow process coming to acknowledge that i was nonbinary, more specifically, that i was completely ambiguous. there’s a difference in nonbinary - which is not conforming to either gender - and ambiguous - which is having no gender at all. ambiguous is a subset of the umbrella term nonbinary. at first i changed my pronouns on twitter from she/her to she/they, and much later i added she/they/he to that list. but i opted to never specify my gender. it was easier that way. no one seemed to really care that i had no gender, they just wanted to know what to refer to me as.

later on down the line, i used the word nonbinary for the first time. and it felt,, refreshing. i think that i was finally coming to realize who i was. i used the term nonbinary to describe me for a long time, thinking that that word fit me. and it does - it’s my umbrella term. but my specific gender is amibiguous, a word i just started using very recently. 

and having recognized my gender has been a load off of my shoulders. i get to be who i am. if people think i’m female, good for them. if they think i’m male, yay. if they think i’m trans, or anything in any other spectrum, i’m happy for them. i don’t mind what anyone calls me. my gender is perceived differently by everyone. and i like that a lot for some reason, although i know many people probably would not like it. it suits me. i’m happy.

my body is still very feminine, but it doesn’t bother me as much as it used to. if i could, i would definitely try to lose weight and potentially go through breast reduction surgery, but i’m not too bent up about it if i never get to do that. my body doesn’t equal my gender. how i present - which is typically masculine, but sometimes i wear feminine clothes - isn’t my gender. my gender,, well, to be frank, i don’t have one. i’m me. i’m nonbinary. i’m,, ambiguous. i leave it up to the other people around me and their imaginations. i spend my days trying to make myself happy with what i wear and what i look like, not conforming to society’s rules of gender.

it took a long time, and frankly sometimes i still have a problem with self doubt and internalized problems. one day i hope to get over that. but i know inside my heart who i am. i’m just a human. i’m a person who’s trying to live my life the best way i can. whether my views were formed because of my trauma or whatever, i don’t really care. i’m happy with who i am. i have friends who call me “ sis “ and “ bro “ in the same sentence. i’ve got a friend who calls me their momma, and a friend who refers to me as their big brother. and i like it like that. i realize it’s not for everyone, but i’m happy with it. 

to those who need their gender to feel complete, i commemorate you. you are wonderful, valid individuals who will make it where you want to be in the world. to those who feel similar to me and feel disconnected with gender and / or sexuality as a whole, i’m telling you that you are not alone. you’re not built wrong, and you are not made this way because of trauma. you deserve to be happy with who you are as a person in your own way. just because some people need their gender, doesn’t mean you do. you don’t need to put any labels on yourself. you can just simply exist, because you’ve lived this long so you must be doing a pretty good job at it. 

[sometimesrosy]

i love bellarke, and i was just wondering what actually makes them great for each other? why are they so good together? all my love!

I had to stop and consider this ask because this is not really the way I think about it. Clarke and Bellamy are not real people, so there is no “good for each other” about their relationship. They aren’t “good together” the way two real people would be, because they are created specifically to act against each other for the purpose of the narrative. I get why you’re saying that, because we relate to the fictional characters we see on screen as if they are real, but I don’t love Bellarke because i find their relationship aspirational. It’s far too tragic and painful for that, and rocky. I’d prefer Marper’s story, dependable, not narratively interesting, peaceful, true. 

BUT the question of what makes them such a good love story? That’s a different thing all together. And I need to be clear that this is why they are good for ME, not for everyone, because I do not consider their story to be a typical romance story, which tend to be a lot slighter and simpler, more focused on the resolution of getting the couple together than on BUILDING the relationship. Which I also enjoy, but this love story seems to be on another level for me, and THAT’S what makes it a good love story for me. 

Their relationship is the center of the non-romantic story. Who they are together REFLECTS the main intentions and journey of the fate of humanity. They need to be together because HUMANITY needs to be together. As Bellarke get closer, we reach for unity among our characters. And I like that macro/micro repetition of the theme.

Their relationship is shown through symbolism and allusions to many other archetypal stories. Yin/Yang, Sun/Moon, Chess King/Queen, Penelope/Odysseus, Rapunzel/Eugene-Flynn, The Head and The Heart.

Their relationship has continuously been given a LOT of attention, very patiently and slowly. That is hollywood commitment. I love the way it built up every season, from antagonists, to respect, trust, friendship, need, care, protect, devoted, believe, centers, etc and we haven’t even gotten to the typical romance yet, but their love for each other is evident without any of the kiss/confess/sex. Fandom may be frustrated by the lack, but I ENJOY the development and the recognition that real love is deep and a LOT more than the superficialities of words, kisses or even sex. Yes those can all be used to deepen a relationship, but a relationship like Bellarke is already deeper than most fictional love stories. Consummation of their relationship will actually be a RELIEF, not a confirmation, because the confirmation is already canon and in the narrative and character development. 

Pride and Prejudice is my favorite romance. I see Bellarke taking the same trajectory in its romance, from s1 to s5, which seems to be (almost) the very end of the 2005 movie narrative. Looked at in that light, it’s a lot less frustrating. Because you can see the same sort of slowburn delay of reaching completion. Plus, it’s romantic! The longing. And frustrating! OMG Elizabeth stop being so dumb! And there are twists and turns! Wickham! Collins! Georgianna! Anne De Bourgh! Charlotte! Caroline!

I like that every season, Clarke and Bellamy have to fight their way back to each other, that everything falls apart if they are not on the same side, that they have to work with their team even when they are angry, that there is no victory without Bellarke together. 

I HATE that Bellarke keeps being separated, however it does raise the tension and keep me on the edge of my seat waiting for them to be reunited and that is part of why I care. Without real risk, there is not real suspense, and i don’t get as invested. It is necessary. Plus it makes all the emotions bigger.

I love the way Bellarke is shown POETICALLY. The storyline and plot and character development may be the prose story, the what happens and how, but the music and imagery and fades, the way they look at each other, the connotations of things that are said and left unsaid, the symbolism, the lighting and the close ups, all things that are pretty much ONLY given to Bellarke in this show? This is POETRY. That shot of Clarke in Eden looking up into the stars wishing he were home, and the direct cut to Bellamy in the stars looking down on Eden wishing the same thing??? OMG. I am NOT being extra. That is literal poetry. A visual poem. The action show may not be the fancy part of this show, but the Bellarke narrative is cinema. They are consciously creating more depth and resonance with poetic filming techniques. You can track the growth of Bellarke emotions by following certain visual stories, like the hand/touching images and closeups. 

As for their relationship, I love how they are equals, and the writers have gone to pains to keep them so. They balance each other out because they know what the other is going through. This allows them to be more open with each other than anyone else. They deserve each other. They are equally good. That means they are equally bad, too. They’ve done as many bad things. They’ve saved as many people. They aren’t always equal IN THE MOMENT, but that’s also good, because Clarke can pull Bellamy back from the brink and Bellamy can pull Clarke back from the brink. They are each other’s checks and balances. When they were alone for 6 years, they had to internalize the other in order to find that balance, but they weren’t QUITE there, externally, they managed, but internally they were in pain over it. They are complete people on their own, but they also NEED each other. And it’s NOT to get things done anymore, it’s because they just do. Because they love each other.

I love how they’ve both grown, from these terrible/amazing young people with unlimited potential into these terrible/amazing adults who UNDERSTAND what it means to be responsible for lives and deaths. THAT is something none of their other friends really understand. Maybe Monty (but he was at MW with them, wasn’t he?)

The YEARNING, omg the yearning. How could their yearning POSSIBLY get any yearnier every season??? There’s just no way. But it did. The mutual pining taken to an EPIC level. They yearned through time, space and death itself. The way you can tell they want to touch each other, want to be more intimate, but can’t, for all their various reasons. #teamfuckingkissalready but even when they don’t? the feelings just get ramped up ANOTHER notch? How many more notches ARE THERE?

I was going to say I liked them because they were hot, but they have transcended hotness at this point. They aren’t the teen soap stars anymore. Their story is so deep now that when they get together, it won’t be about hotness at all, it will be about YEARS of love and longing and trust and need and devotion and commitment. They are freaking SOULMATES, built for each other, the clear and truthful mirror of the other, the other half of them, the head and the heart. They make each other better, stronger and happier. They give each other comfort. They believe in the other when no one else did. LOVE. OMG are they just made from love. ugh. 

[bluerosesburnblue]

Okay, actually, screw it. I am tagging this. People need to realize that that line doesn’t make Charlie canonically ace, they’re just pushing their own interpretation and then trying to act like it’s more “correct” than all other interpretations. Congrats, fandom. You all instantly “Did That.” Glad to see my lack of faith was well founded

Eughh I really hope the Hogwarts Mystery fandom doesn’t Do That again when the First Date quest drops. Drove me nuts the first time it happened and I’d rather people not get so pushy about their interpretation of that one line that, no, does not canonize anything

So here’s the thing:

“Dragons are all I care about. Who has time for dating when there are so many breeds of dragons to study?”

is not confirmation that Charlie is aromantic. Can it be interpreted that way? Yes, absolutely. And I’m not going to begrudge people who are a fan of that headcanon their right to interpret it that way. But it’s not confirmation of canon. The lines right before it are:

“We don’t care who your crush is.”

“Really? Why not? Our other friends seem to want to know.”

The “dragons are all I care about” isn’t necessarily “I don’t care about romance at all and never will.” In the context of who MC’s crush is, that line can be taken to mean “I’m not nosy enough to pry into who you’re in love with, because I have more important things such as my studies.” Yes, he expresses that he’s not interested in dating at the moment, but so does who I’m assuming is probably Tonks but might be Bill, both of whom we know end up in heterosexual marriages:

“Dating doesn’t interest me now, either. Perhaps someday. But I like doing my own thing.”

So, what, are they all aro now because they don’t want to date at the moment? People are allowed to have priorities and just because something is more important than dating or they’re not comfortable with being in a romantic situation at the moment doesn’t mean they don’t feel romantic attraction at all. Literally the only thing Charlie’s line proves is that he values his dragon studies more than romance. Not that he doesn’t care about romance at all. He doesn’t even say he doesn’t want to date, just that he doesn’t have enough time to do it and everything else he wants to do. It’s not a priority, but that doesn’t mean the desire doesn’t exist

He doesn’t even state he’s not attracted to anyone. Attraction ≠ dating. You can decide you don’t want to date anyone because you don’t feel like you could give the relationship the effort it deserves, even if you’re in love with someone. You can decide you don’t want to date because getting your dream job is more urgent than dating. You can decide you don’t want to date because of family issues. Heck, you might even do it for religious reasons. There’s a million reasons why you can decide you don’t want to date, despite the attraction. What is the assumption here? That people have to be in a relationship to prove their sexuality? That if you’re not in an active relationship then you must not be interested in sex at all? Life isn’t that black and white

I mean, they’re teens for crying out loud. They’re still figuring out where their boundaries are! They are literally in the age of experimenting. I didn’t give a shit about romance as a teen. It’s still not a priority for me! But just because it’s not The Most Important Thing to me doesn’t mean I’m not ever going to be interested in a romantic relationship with someone. Am I suddenly not allowed to see my own life experiences reflected in Charlie because it’s not “inclusive” enough?

Am I disappointed that none of the HP-canon characters are options? Yes. I think it’s silly that the writers feel the need to go out of their way to deny players the ability to date the three non-original canon characters, but hell. I don’t know what JC’s contract is like. Maybe they were forbidden from allowing it by Warner Brothers or JK Rowling or whoever they got the rights to use the franchise from. But you know what I’m more disappointed about?

The fact that there’s (seemingly) no option to have the MC just... not date someone. The only way it seems you can do that is to just not play the timed quest, which SUCKS for my completionist ass. I want the option to not date, like Charlie and Tonks, but also not have a giant “INCOMPLETE” in my events tab

And it’s not because I see my MC as aro/ace or that I’m aro/ace, though I’m certain that people who do or are would appreciate the option as well. Dating just feels out of character for the character I’m playing. Some people don’t care about Jacob, but I’ve made my character so obsessed with finding him and so unable to focus on anything else until that’s done that there’s no way she’d be dating anyone. She literally has something more important than romance at the moment and she won’t be able to focus on any romantic relationship until the Jacob situation’s resolved

Look, I’m not saying all of this to be like “you can’t headcanon Charlie as aro/ace/whatever!” That’s bullshit. You can headcanon whatever you want and the beauty of fiction is that we can have conflicting headcanons about things that make the experience richer for us. This isn’t a STOP HAVING FUN post

I’m only bringing this up because when Charlie was introduced and a bunch of people thought that he and MC were cute together, you couldn’t go two minutes without someone else going “HE’S CANONICALLY ACE AND THIS IS ACE ERASURE.” People were goddamned aggressive about their interpretation of JK’s intentionally vague interview answer from years ago. And already I see people in the tags declaring that these lines make Charlie canonically aro and I’m terrified that that shit’s going to start up again because people just can’t learn to respect someone else’s headcanon and move on. The people posting about it have been cordial so far, but I do not trust this fandom to stay that way for long

[EDIT] And it looks like I was right not to

If you do that - if you go on anyone’s post and say “um actually you can’t headcanon that” then you’re the asshole. That goes for both sides. If you go on an aro/ace Charlie post and go “But he’s so cute with MC!” then you’re just as much of an asshole as someone who goes onto a Charlie/MC post and says “Um, but Charlie’s aro/ace.” Both are awful and I don’t want that fighting to start up again because of one line

If you’re going around making posts in the tags like “It’s CANON” then you’re also being an ass. The line’s ambiguous at best. Stop trying to force your interpretation. It’s not canon, just a headcanon. So long as multiple, equally valid interpretations of that line exist, Charlie is not canonically aro or ace. Not to mention that the quest isn’t even out yet and none of the people I’ve seen posting that line/interpretation in the tags are tagging their spoilers. Seriously, have some online etiquette

[EDIT] Look, I’ve seen the arguments. It doesn’t make the interpretation of that line any more canonical. And the only actual arguments I’ve even seen are “well, if you consider this line AND JK’s interview then it’s obvious. Do you really need someone to spell it out that it’s canon?” And, look, if you have to go out of your way to state “okay, well they didn’t say it exactly, but come on!” then maybe consider that you’re the one who’s wrong and it’s an ambiguous line that doesn’t prove anything? My aunt is straight, barely dated, and never married. Her life experiences that happen to coincide with what we see of Charlie are not any less valid than the experiences of any ace/aro people who also see themselves in Charlie. And that’s not even getting into the fact that 90% of the people citing the interview are hypocrites because they admit that they don’t care what JK has to say... unless it’s convenient to them, I guess

“But he’s the only ace representation we have!” Look, I get it. I know. The asexual and aromantic communities are sorely underrepresented in media. The number is not “literally two, at all, ever” as I’ve seen people on this site claim, but it is very low. This is a problem. But Charlie is just not that. In a game that, as far as we can tell right now, won’t even let us make ourselves asexual and still participate in the events, do you really think they’re going to go out of their way to try and respectfully represent the ace community? Are you all so ready to pat these writers on the back over an implication? I know. I know you all want this representation so badly, and I’m so sorry that Charlie isn’t canonically what the community wants him to be. Had they said that he was canonically ace/aro, then I wouldn’t even be making this post; I’d be congratulating the community

But they haven’t. They’ve put one line that sort of implies it in a game that gives, like, twelve lines implying that he has a crush on someone. By going around making all of these baseless claims that it’s canon now, you’re only making the community look worse. You’re actively denying the life experiences of other people and asserting your own as the only “correct” way to view things, and that’s what I can’t stand

I’ve seen at least one person claim that Charlie/MC shippers are exclusionists, I’ve seen people try to guilt other people into the ace!Charlie headcanon by playing the “we’re underrepresented” card, I’ve seen people go around saying you can still ship Charlie/MC but just know it’s not canon like ace!Charlie is (which implies that it’s inherently lesser than the ace!Charlie interpretation because we all know what connotation “canon” has in fandom). Just stop. All of this behavior is childish. Instead of acting entitled about your headcanon, support media with well-written ace characters that are respectful to the community! Seek out the ace media that exists and support it instead of claiming that there is none and aggressively trying to enforce your headcanons on non-canonically ace characters. Use the headcanon as a way to showcase how to write these things well, or as a springboard to start creating your own characters and stories. Media doesn’t spring up out of nowhere. If you want tasteful ace representation, someone has to create it

I’ve made it abundantly clear on my blog that the “my interpretation is the only correct way to interpret this ambiguous line” thought process is one that I despise. I’m a firm believer that the beauty of fiction, the beauty of art, is everyone’s ability to put a little piece of themselves into the experience, and this line of thought goes completely against that. It shuts down discussion. It doesn’t allow for a middle ground. And it’s what you all sound like when you make the claim that your headcanon is now canon. You sound like children sticking your fingers in your ears and shouting “LALALALALALA I’M RIGHT YOU‘RE WRONG.” You aren’t converting anyone to your cause. The people who support your position already agreed with you, and anyone who didn’t will double down on hating it because, SURPRISE, people don’t like being accused of thinking wrong

I said it once. I’ll reiterate. I don’t want people giving up the aro/ace!Charlie headcanon. It’s your right to interpret that line however you wish. It’s your right to experience the story in the way that makes you happiest because that’s ultimately what it’s there for. But it’s my right and anyone else’s right to interpret that vague line in a way that makes each of us happy, too, and I won’t stand for people denying that right to others by asserting things that are just factually incorrect. There’s a difference between something actually being canon and something being implied or open to interpretation. Please stop insisting that the latter is the former just because you wish it was. And above all:

Just don’t be children and let people enjoy fiction their own way. Don’t be pushy in the comments or tags with your headcanons/interpretations. You’re not being an activist by yelling at people over sexuality headcanons. You’re just being a dick and I’d better not see everyone fighting again because they can’t respect a difference of interpretation (nope, that’s exactly what they all did)

[thesilverheroineproject]

The title of the rant explains itself, I think. I’ve put “more” in there because I’ve written rants in the past about different ways to diversify female characters, and slashed heroines/female protagonists because of the unfortunate connotation that “heroine” sometimes has.

1) A life in thought.

One thing missing from a lot of fantasy novels is philosophy—not morality, since there’s often a clear sense of right and wrong, but the exploration of abstract questions. What is truth like in that world? How is beauty regarded? Knowledge? Wisdom? (Is there a difference between knowledge and wisdom?) Is there a purpose to existence for your invented culture(s), and what is it? What is the philosophy of art?

Even in a society where philosophers don’t exist as a separate profession, class, or guild, I bet there are people doing some thinking about these things. And some of them can be women. Or should be women, since female philosophers are rarely, if ever, central characters in fantasy novels.

Want to use a noblewoman character as your protagonist but have absolutely no idea what to do with her if she’s not involved in a marriage plot? Make her a philosopher! She’ll certainly have time to think that a working-class character probably won’t have, and curiosity makes for a good way to show off the fantasy world. And if she gets into intellectual debates or is forced to defend her ideas, she’ll develop as a thinker in a way that many female protagonists don’t get to.

2) Friendship, complicated and complex.

As much as I enjoy reading about and depicting lesbian relationships, I think female friendships (at least, female friendships that are not centered on winning and discussing men) are even rarer in fantasy. They give you all kinds of things to consider. Here are just a few:

How did these women meet?

What drove the initial formation of their friendship? Are those factors still around? If so, how have they developed? If not, what kept them friends when the initial common ground turned to mud?

What wrinkles have their friendships gone through? What really spectacular fights, conflicts of principles, arrival of subjects on which they’ve agreed to disagree?

How hard do they pull on one another? For example, is one friend always supportive of the other no matter what, because support is what she needs most in her life, or does she smack her friend upside the head regularly and tell her not to be an idiot?

What do they talk about most often? (This seems to be especially hard for many authors to write about if they want to ban men as a discussion subject).

I’m probably prejudiced, because all the most complex relationships in my life have been friendships, not love affairs. But they’re also less “regulated,” because of the absence of common models in fiction, than relationships like mother-daughter or sister-sister or lover-lover. I always perk up when I see a pair of fictional female friends, because I feel I’m able to expect more variety from them. (Note that this does not tend to happen if their sole subject of conversation is who likes them and who likes-likes them).

3) A truly equal footing.

What would it take for a woman in a fantasy society that’s not gender-equal to gain freedom and the ability to form equal relationships with other people? Imagine that the solution is not to become male and abandon everything that makes her female. Maybe she likes some of the things that make her female (and, in any case, deciding that to be “free” a woman has to remain a virgin or never have a child is a limited vision).

So. How does she do it?

It’s going to depend on the circumstances of the society you’ve set up, of course, and the individual qualities and flaws of your protagonist. But say you’ve rejected the “substitute male” and “complete runaway” routes (the first for the reason given above, and the second because it insists that the character has to give up all connections to everybody else). How does she win her freedom without paying a price that’s intolerable to her?

4) Asexuality.

By this term, I’m talking about true asexuality, the lack of sexual desire and any longing to engage in a sexual relationship, not a character who’s been scared away from sex by rape or abuse. And yes, male asexual characters are rare, too, but men are more often written as though romantic relationships are unnecessary in their lives—asexuality in practice if not theory. Whereas female characters have to be located in relation to romance the moment they appear on-stage. They’re lesbians, or they’re going to fall in love with the men they’re currently screaming at, or they’re casually bisexual, or she’s had two kids in the past but they’re living with her sister now, or she’s a repressed virgin who just needs to find the right man.

But say that she’s asexual. She just has no interest in any sexual relationships.

Maybe her society has no classification for this, and so other people still try to shove or manipulate her into a sexual category. But this character conceives them all as not mattering to her. She slips out of the categories in her own head, or creates her own. And she doesn’t need to have children or take a lover to be a “real woman.”

Or the author can write her independently of romance whatsoever. If her society is accepting of bisexuality, homosexuality, and polyamory, they could be equally accepting of asexuality. Romance is dispensed with. It does not come up.

Any version of female asexuality could make an interesting story.

5) Changing oneself.

The version of this story that I’m most fascinated with is the human who ventures into a nonhuman culture, absorbing their point-of-view, shifting her own attitudes, mentally becoming the alien. But there are other ways to do it:

The female privileged protagonist who becomes aware of and tries to deal with her own privilege and the consequences of it.

The heroine whose life changes radically later on, rather than with puberty or as a child, and who has to integrate her sudden magic or destiny or binding to another person into the connections she’s already formed.

The oppressed/colonized woman who begins to be able to separate her consciousness from the oppression or colonization, and starts the process of changing what she can.

The woman who’s been hurt and whose life is not suddenly 100% better because a goddess chooses her or a man falls in love with her; she sets her sights on a goal and works towards it, even though complete healing may not be possible.

This requires a lot of introspection, which might be one reason it’s not that popular a plot for fantasy novels. But I think adventure is indeed possible in a story like this; it’s just that it can’t take over and be the sole thing happening.

6) Dealing with human limitations.

Her own and others’, in this case. And no, not in the so-familiar holding pattern in which everyone else’s needs—children’s, male partner’s, siblings’, parents’, random passing men’s—come before the needs of the heroine, who is a selfless (and often spineless) martyr. A woman in this kind of plot would need to choose and act; the difference is that she’s not able to knock down every barrier in her way as if she were a queen or a conquering savior.

What’s her life like if she’s living in the middle of an occupation? A natural disaster? A magical disaster? The sudden appearance of an alien species? A difficult political situation, with necessary compromises and powerful opponents who must be appeased? A personal limitation, such as a disdain for violence in a society where violence is one of the prime ways to advance? A chosen limitation, such as a refusal to go on bailing a rebellious child out of trouble?

This is where I have a lot of frustration with some specific fantasy plot devices, which are designed to destroy all the barriers the protagonist faces. Loopholes are the ones I hate most, but also common are sudden unbeatable power, prophecies, coerced loyalty because of prophecy (“But we have to obey her! She’s the Chosen One!”), and a simple lack of ethics (such as the heroine who has no problem killing other people because they’re The Enemy).

Why waste a beautiful difficult situation by insisting that the difficulties are just an illusion?

7) Work.

If the center of a female protagonist’s life is her work, that’s often a problem. If she has children, of course she’s too busy to be a proper mother to them. If she’s performing a job commonly done by men in her society, then she runs the risk of losing her femaleness (see point 3). If she’s an artist, she turns out not to be as good an artist as she thinks she is, and/or discovers that she wants a man/a family more than her art.

Why not have work be the center of your female protagonist’s story? She can still have a perfectly ordinary life outside work. Many male protagonists in fantasy are presented as having had friends, lovers, training, different jobs, and families in the past before they started saving the world or going on the quest or fighting in the war. A female protagonist can be a dedicated botanist, but that doesn’t mean that she’s automatically a bad mother or a dangerous workaholic.

Of course, fantasy also has an allergy to work as such. (Tasks are a different matter. For one thing, you can tell that it’s a task because the hero/ine is reluctant to undertake it and certain that s/he’ll be no good at it). There’s no reason that prejudice has to endure, especially because something that’s simple here may be difficult in another world—or another world may have work that doesn’t exist here. Try giving your female protagonist a job without implying that she’s a bad person for having one, and see what happens.

[janiedean]

Hi Lavinia! Can I ask for your opinion about Jaime and his relationship with his stump? I mean, everyone knows he hates it, but is there a possibility that Brienne can change his mind? I belive he hates it most of all because his sister hated it, but it can be changed even a little if he finds someone that does not care. Plus: do you think Brienne can "love" his stump and act tenderly towards it? Like kisses and caresses? I know it's weird but I'd love to care for it to make him feel better!

a) first: man it’s not weird I mean guys I’m gonna tag it so I’m not gonna get into the specific but let’s just say that there are reasons why frankenstein was one of my five formative books and let’s leave it there

b) second: well I put it in every damned fic I do where they have sex so the short reply is yes, but the long reply would be...

c) now, why is it yes and going into your specifics:

he hates it but more than cersei I think the issue is that to him it’s basically a perpetual reminder in his face that a) he lost his right hand (which was what made him the best swordsman around) which in turn means that b) he’s lost one of the things that (in his conception at least) defined him ie ‘if I don’t have that what am I worth’ (which he thinks more than once in that asos chapter when he wants to let himself die) and most of all:

"The lack of my hand is troubling me." The mornings were the hardest. In his dreams Jaime was a whole man, and each dawn he would lie half-awake and feel his fingers move. It was a nightmare, some part of him would whisper, refusing to believe even now, only a nightmare. But then he would open his eyes.

“The wench would have told him he had to eat before he slept, to keep his strength up, but he was more tired than hungry. He closed his eyes, and hoped to dream of Cersei. The fever dreams were all so vivid . . . Naked and alone he stood, surrounded by enemies, with stone walls all around him pressing close. The Rock, he knew. He could feel the immense weight of it above his head. He was home. He was home and whole. He held his right hand up and flexed his fingers to feel the strength in them. It felt as good as sex. As good as swordplay. Four fingers and a thumb. He had dreamed that he was maimed, but it wasn't so. Relief made him dizzy. My hand, my good hand. Nothing could hurt him so long as he was whole.”

now, counting that the whole spiel cersei (and him) have going is that they’re not whole without each other, the point is: he’s not feeling whole without the right hand because it’s what makes him good at sword fighting which in turn gives him worth. now, if you look at the whole procession of thoughts in the dream above, you have the following (which is necessary to get into your question): he feels alone and surrounded by enemies and he had dreamed he was maimed (which is what happened irl) which in turn equates his lack of a hand with inability to protect himself/the others around him/makes him feel vulnerable. BUT, he has the right hand in the dream, and right hand = swords = swordplay = sex, like the four things are all put on the same level (mind it: who is the last person he fought before losing it? right, brienne) and having it back puts him back in a supposedly favorable position because nothing can hurt him as long as he’s whole (ie: he has the hand and cersei) and he supposedly can do the job himself;

too bad that he doesn’t have it anymore;

so like to him the fact that he doesn’t have the hand is a reminder that, again, he can’t do his job, and if he can’t do his job he isn’t whole, and if he isn’t whole he can’t fight (which is basically half of what he loves, the other half being cersei + tyrion + what other relatives he has that he does but it’s not many) and he can’t have cersei either and he can be hurt;

now, I once ranted about the romantic connotations of jaime’s weirwood dream vs brienne’s dreams in affc and I’m linking to it so I don’t have to go again over that, but another thing that’s fundamental about the weirdwood dream is that after it tells us what he fears most ie a) being hurt, b) the people he loves leaving him behind, c) his guilt over his supposed responsibilities in elia’s death and her children’s (which technically is not on him but nvm, d) cersei leaving him behind and after all of that happens... ah, right, BRIENNE shows up, asks him for a sword to protect him after he frees her from her chains and she gets it and she does it until hers is the only bright light in the entire cave, and after that dream he goes back for her and saves her life in the bear pit doing one of the two 100% truly heroic deeds that have happened until now (the other being theon saving jeyne hahaha). which he does... without having the hand;

now, back to the beginning: cersei hates it because a) it’s not aesthetically pleasing, b) he sets jaime apart from her because NOT MIRRORS ANYMORE, c) it cuts down his *usefulness* by a lot since he can’t fight as well as before, d) she cares about the fact that if he’s her male counterpart then she can be with herself just male, she doesn’t care about him or his needs or anything else of the kind, which anyway ties with the fact that by losing the hand he also loses something that was intimately tied to his old life (in the bath he tells brienne he lost the hand he killed aerys with/pushed bran down the tower with/made love to cersei with), so.... by losing it he also has to narratively lose cersei and put himself on the track he wanted to be on when he was fifteen and believed in being arthur dayne if you catch my drift, and the thing is that he can do that without it as well - and we saw it when he saved brienne WITHOUT IT;

as far as brienne is concerned though, the entire thing with losing the hand is actually tied to her in a positive light. meaning: while cersei hasn’t wanted anything to do with it (the stump/his lack of hand) and has been disgusted openly/called him a useless cripple because of it when she’s supposed to love him no matter what, brienne has actually helped him live through that loss even when she was supposed to hate him. like, a lot of people brush over what brienne does for him just after he loses it (or think she could never love him because she did that, lmao as if) but guys let’s be real here, post-hand loss he was pretty much 100% helpless there and she spent the rest of the road trip a) giving him pep talks when he felt like giving up, b) materially cleaning him up, c) telling him that losing the hand didn’t mean his life was over, never mind that after that they have the harrenhaal bath where without going into the whole cleansing symbolism of having him unload why he killed aerys for the first time in his life to her while taking a bath during which they’re both naked and... when he about faints she catches him and she’s gentler than cersei (and later cersei is Really Not Gentle with him at any point ops) and again, she never gives two fucks about his lack of hand or not.

also I realized this meta is overall 3k+ and the next part is choke-full of quotes so I’m gonna cut, more under the cut. sorry I FEEL STRONGLY ABOUT THIS SPECIFIC TOPIC.

moreover, never mind that after he saves her backside and she comes to see him when he gives her oathkeeper she’s all like ‘OH THE WHITE CLOAK BECOMES YOU’ (one day I’ll break apart that scene line by line is2g), what happens in her first affc chapter?

Brienne remembered her fight with Jaime Lannister in the woods. It had been all that she could do to keep his blade at bay. He was weak from his imprisonment, and chained at the wrists. No knight in the Seven Kingdoms could have stood against him at his full strength, with no chains to hamper him. Jaime had done many wicked things, but the man could fight! His maiming had been monstrously cruel. It was one thing to slay a lion, another to hack his paw off and leave him broken and bewildered.Suddenly the common room was too loud to endure a moment longer. She muttered her good-nights and took herself up to bed.

now, compare that to these gems from cersei’s affc chapters:

Her own twin interrupted her musings. "Would Your Grace honor her white knight with a dance?"She gave him a withering look. "And have you fumbling at me with that stump? No. I will let you fill my wine cup for me, though. If you think you can manage it without spilling.""A cripple like me? Not likely." He moved away and made another circuit of the hall. She had to fill her own cup.

"And our valiant Lord Commander?""Ser Jaime is at his armorer's being fitted for a hand. I know we were all tired of that ugly stump. And I daresay he would find these proceedings as tiresome as Tommen." Aurane Waters chuckled at that. Good, Cersei thought, the more they laugh, the less he is a threat. Let them laugh. "Do we have wine?"

Jaime hugged her, his good hand pressing against the small of her back. He smelled of ash, but the morning sun was in his hair, giving it a golden glow. She wanted to draw his face to hers for a kiss. Later, she told herself, later he will come to me, for comfort. "We are his heirs, Jaime," she whispered. "It will be up to us to finish his work. You must take Father's place as Hand. You see that now, surely. Tommen will need you . . ."He pushed away from her and raised his arm, forcing his stump into her face. "A Hand without a hand? A bad jape, sister. Don't ask me to rule."

there was more tho I picked the first three, but if you compare them, cersei basically either mocks him or thinks the stump is ugly and doesn’t want it forced into her face (reminding her he’s-not-her-exact-mirror anymore), brienne’s only horrified that they did it to him in the first place and she considers it cruel, but she doesn’t give two fucks about his hand being ugly nor considers him lesser. actually:

"I will find the girl and keep her safe," Brienne had promised Ser Jaime, back at King's Landing. "For her lady mother's sake. And for yours." Noble words, but words were easy. Deeds were hard.

When she was small, her nurse had filled her ears with tales of valor, regaling her with the noble exploits of Ser Galladon of Morne, Florian the Fool, Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, and other champions. Each man bore a famous sword, and surely Oathkeeper belonged in their company, even if she herself did not. "You'll be defending Ned Stark's daughter with Ned Stark's own steel," Jaime had promised.

I know. It was on that very road that Ser Cleos Frey had died, and she and Ser Jaime had been taken by the Bloody Mummers. Jaime tried to kill me, she remembered, though he was gaunt and weak, and his wrists were chained. It had been a close thing, even so, but that was before Zollo hacked his hand off. Zollo and Rorge and Shagwell would have raped her half a hundred times if Ser Jaime had not told them she was worth her weight in sapphires.

She had learned the truth of that once she went into the world. Even Jaime Lannister had come at her that way, in the woods by Maidenpool. If the gods were good, the Mad Mouse would make the same mistake. He may be a seasoned knight, she thought, but he is no Jaime Lannister. She slid her sword out of its scabbard.

(that EVEN is already telling because it puts jaime above other men she ran into EXCEPT that even he underestimated her)

Perhaps she had made a mistake in abandoning Ser Creighton and Ser Illifer. They had seemed like honest men. Would that Jaime had come with me, she thought . . . but he was a knight of the Kingsguard, his rightful place was with his king. Besides, it was Renly that she wanted. I swore I would protect him, and I failed. Then I swore I would avenge him, and I failed at that as well. I ran off with Lady Catelyn instead, and failed her too. The wind had shifted, and the rain was running down her face.

I could slink back to King's Landing, confess my failure to Ser Jaime, give him back his sword, and find a ship to carry me home to Tarth, as the Elder Brother urged. The thought was a bitter one, yet there was part of her that yearned for Evenfall and her father, and another part that wondered if Jaime would comfort her should she weep upon his shoulder. That was what men wanted, wasn't it? Soft helpless women that they needed to protect?

now, I could rant at you for ten minutes about how in all of those quotes a) she looks up to him, b) never thinks of him as crippled or ugly or useless, c) at most has pity for him because he lost that hand, BUT a thing not many people bring up is that...

He was better than Pyg, but he had only a short throwing spear, and she had a Valyrian steel blade. Oathkeeper was alive in her hands. She had never been so quick. The blade became a grey blur. He wounded her in the shoulder as she came at him, but she slashed off his ear and half his cheek, hacked the head off his spear, and put a foot of rippled steel into his belly through the links of the chain mail byrnie he was wearing. Timeon was still trying to fight as she pulled her blade from him, its fullers running red with blood. He clawed at his belt and came up with a dagger, so Brienne cut his hand off. That one was for Jaime. "Mother have mercy," the Dornishman gasped, the blood bubbling from his mouth and spurting from his wrist. "Finish it. Send me back to Dorne, you bloody bitch."She did.

brienne literally kills one of the people in the brave companions after cutting his hand off saying *it’s for jaime* and after then she kills another (shagwell) after making him dig the graves for the others, AND:

"I have no spade.”"You have two hands." One more than you left Jaime."Why bother? Leave them for the crows."

that’s what she says before she stabs him to death and getting really worked up about it:

She knocked aside his arm and punched the steel into his bowels. "Laugh," she snarled at him. He moaned instead. "Laugh," she repeated, grabbing his throat with one hand and stabbing at his belly with the other. "Laugh!" She kept saying it, over and over, until her hand was red up to the wrist and the stink of the fool's dying was like to choke her. But Shagwell never laughed. The sobs that Brienne heard were all her own. When she realized that, she threw down her knife and shuddered.

like, tldr: we all focus (rightly) on jaime punching ronnet connington for disrespecting her (WITH THE FAKE HAND) but I don’t think as much on the fact that brienne killed two of the brave companions while thinking specifically of how they hurt him/maimed him and thinking that she’s doing it *for him*.

as in: to avenge the fact that he lost the hand because they took it from him.

now, this entire rant with probably too many quotes was to say that brienne cannot give a single fuck about whether jaime has the hand or not beyond thinking it was unfair and unjust to take it from him and leave him without rather than just kill him and she actually avenged it on what brave companions she ran into (which she couldn’t do when they were captured) and she’s into him to the point where (as stated above) she dreams about him all the time INCLUDING him putting a cloak on her and would rather die than bring stoneheart his head, and........ after all of this we really would assume that if they did the deed she wouldn’t not only not ignore that he has a maimed wrist but that she wouldn’t make sweet love to it? especially when according to her he’s omgamazinglybeautiful and she thinks she’s the ugly one that no one’s ever going to want? like, she doesn’t even think about the stump when she thinks about wanting to weep on the guy’s shoulder/when she wants him to come with her/when she thinks he looked like half a god/when she wants him to put a cloak on her or come back for her. she’ll take him exactly the way he is, stump or not, and since she’s seen worse than that - like fuck’s sake she spent time tied to him with the rotting hand in between them - I’m 100% sure that she would totally not shy away from loving all of him including the maimed wrist;

(mind that if you go back to what I was saying in the beginning ie that loss of the hand = loss of sense of security = loss of feeling safe but brienne is associated with a) keeping him safe, b) keeping him alive at both basic and not-so-basic-level, c) the rebirth imagery, d) literally caring for him regardless of her personal feelings......... if they actually become lovers the whole thing plays out because he doesn’t need the hand if he has her who is also framed as the knight to his damsel 98% of the time including in his head/when he dreams about her appearing and keeping him safe with oathkeeper just after he *frees* her ie lets her be the knight she’s meant to be, like literally the one time it doesn’t happen is the bear pit and she’s stuck with him through pretty much everything and has seen the best and worst of him and still didn’t leave [and he doesn’t know but she’s willing to get hanged for him], I mean can we get more obvious here?)

now, can she change his mind? well, if they have idk two years of uninterrupted marital bliss in which they have all the good kind of sex in the world and in which she does it first thing in the morning most likely yes, I mean, the moment he realizes he’s not his sword hand and that he has worth beyond it and that he doesn’t need it to be the person he always wanted to be (and he’s trying for that matter) then he’ll care a lot less about it/won’t hate it as much and if she shows him that she can’t care less it certainly will help, if one of them (or both) dies two months after they get together that might cause a problem X°D but in the best possible outcome (the first one ofc which is a prelude to THEY GROW OLD TOGETHER ON TARTH OR WHEREVER) sure thing he would get over it. tbh I think he should get over it within the end of the saga because that would be basically capping his arc if he lived while having become the person he always wanted to be without giving two fucks about the lack of hand or not but anyway that’s mvho;

tldr: yes he would change his mind. indeed. X°D

[eeveelutionsforequality]

Have you always been an inclusionist (regarding the wil Wheaton post)

Yeah, if I remember correctly, I have. At least, I believe that I have been regarding asexual and/or aromantic people - but bear in mind that I, personally, don't extend that to the "asexual spectrum" (which, I believe, is a misnomer since you're either asexual, completely unattracted, or allosexual, attracted on some level, no matter how small or infrequent - it's more like the "allosexual qualifier spectrum"). Things like demisexual do not describe the sexes/genders that you're attracted to (you can be a heterosexual demisexual, or a bisexual demisexual, or a gay demisexual, since it only describes the necessity for a preexisting emotional connection and not the genders/sexes of the individuals who you can feel attraction to once that emotional connection is there), and so the qualifier of demisexual is not inherently LGBT+ (just as the qualifier of only liking blondes isn't), as you can be a heterosexual heteroromantic cisgender demisexual, but one can be LGBT+ and demisexual.

I have been involved in real world LGBT+ activism and communities, I've been involved in safeguarding, volunteering, parades, youth groups, older groups, and so on. Most of the LGBT+ groups and people that I've encountered did include asexual and/or aromantic people under the LGBT+ label (and many included allies within the community and/or groups, although the allies obviously were not classed as LGBT+ themselves). Those groups and individuals that I've encountered who didn't explicitly include asexuals and/or aromantics have usually been those with more of a focus on same sex/gender attraction as the core of the group and/or as what they believed to be the core of the LGBT+ community (or as some, but not all, put it, the LGB, GLB, LGB+T, or gay community; some of them, not due to malice but due to understandable ignorance, this was years ago, were somewhat biphobic and transphobic - but that's a ramble for another day, and not something that is inherent to people who don't agree with the inclusion of asexual and/or aromantic people).

That isn't to say that I think that this reasoning represents every individual who doesn't agree with the inclusion of asexual and/or aromantic people, everyone has their own reasoning and isn't accountable for other people's beliefs, actions, or words - I'm just expressing that the main (possibly only) argument that I've really seen in real life for the exclusion of asexual and/or aromantic people has been "they're not inherently same sex/gender attracted, and some of them can be attracted to the opposite sex/gender". Online, I see a couple of other arguments, like "they're not as oppressed" and "they're cishets" and "it's not real".

I, thus far, have not seen any reason to exclude asexuals and aromantics from the label as a whole that I can agree with (although individual groups are more than welcome to have their own specific focus).

An asexual or aromantic person is not a cisgender heterosexual heteroromantic person, by definition (and I believe that the best way to describe what constitutes being LGBT+ is that you're not at least one of those things - ie the only people who aren't LGBT+, in my opinion, are people who are all three of those things at once). If you wouldn't call a bisexual heteroromantic person or biromantic heterosexual person a "cishet", then don't call asexual and/or aromantic people "cishets" - if somebody is not both heterosexual and heteroromantic, I don't think it's fair to label them a "cishet" (although I don't like the word anyway, it has derogatory connotations that I don't think are at all helpful, as there's nothing wrong or bad about being a cisgender heterosexual heteroromantic person).

Being LGBT+ does not necessitate being same sex/gender attracted, nor does it necessitate being unable to be attracted to the opposite sex/gender (trans people can be straight, and bisexual or biromantic people can be attracted to the opposite sex/gender).

Being LGBT+ does not necessitate a certain level of discrimination (if, hypothetically, homophobia completely stopped tomorrow, gay and lesbian people would still be LGBT+), and suffering is neither quantifiable nor consistent across the group (different people will experience different levels of disadvantage based on other life factors - wealth, class, how accepting your school and family are, where you live, and other circumstances and factors can affect how much homophobia you experience, as well as the level of impact and damage that said homophobia can do).

People have been expressing the experience of being asexual and/or aromantic for years and years, and I haven't seen any evidence to suggest that it's impossible for an individual to be born without sexual and/or romantic attraction. That said, while I do understand the concerns that not everyone who identifies that way will be correct (there have been cases where people have said that their "internalised homophobia" lead to an incorrect assumption about their identity, and hyposexuality or other libido issues could be mistaken for it), the potential for some people to be wrong does not mean that the thing itself doesn't exist - for example, one can mistake a thyroid issue for major depressive disorder, but that doesn't mean that depression doesn't exist or that everybody diagnosed with major depression actually has a thyroid issue. I see no reason to disbelieve every single person who identifies that way, simply because some people are wrong - I see it as reason to spread information and promote caution with one's identity, as well as the fortitude to be open to the possibility that in the future you may realise that you were wrong.

So, in conclusion, I think that I have always been an inclusionist to some degree.

Note: Just to clarify, I'm not saying that you have to be a "gold star asexual", for lack of a better term, to be asexual - attraction can be confusing, there are straight guys who want to bang Johnny Depp but are otherwise straighter than a ruler, there are asexual people who aren't sex repulsed, and so on. What I'm saying is that if you're capable of attraction to one or multiple genders/sexes once an emotional connection is there, that shouldn't be lumped under asexual as it is not the lack of attraction to any gender/sex, but rather selective attraction (comparable to only experiencing attraction to blondes, for example).

~ Vape

[ranjxtul]

All You Wanna Do: Verse by Verse Analysis

honestly this probably isn’t new but i wrote this and honestly lowkey proud of it.

The song starts off in a very youthful, upbeat tone as exemplified through Howard’s first line: “I think we can all agree I’m the ten amongst these threes.” Starting out in this manner and with the introduction of “Ever since I was a child I’d make the boys go wild,” introduces the audience to Katherine on the grounds with which she’s portrayed in history: a temptress or at the very least loose. It also serves to establish her youthfulness and naivety.

However, the lyrics do not hesitate to delve into the dark nature of Katherine’s so called ‘flings.’ The first one explored is Henry Mannox. In a verse laden with sexual innuendos a vivid picture of a young girl being molested by her music teacher is created. As a modern audience hears this, it’s bound to raise some red flags, but Katherine herself is not alarmed at this stage in remembering her life. She has yet to recognize this is the beginning of the her grooming by men to be complacent and let them abuse her sexually or otherwise.

She still very much sees it through a lens of adoration, a naive perspective appropriate for a child of thirteen. Most notably, she sings, “Run your fingers through my hair; tell me I’m the fairest of the fair.” This line’s romantic connotations already provide a direct contradiction to the disturbing narrative, once again emphasizing Katherine’s innocence and perception of abuse.

The second verse centers around the story of Francias Dereham and Howard. While this verse isn’t inherently as dark as the first, it’s reasonably inferred that she’s still very young her. The darkest line is by far, “He gets what he wants and won’t take no.” This can be interpreted as Katherine having tried to say no, but ultimately being coerced. Despite this implied admission, Katherine does not realize how horribly these men treat her. She does however begin to recognize each one’s sense of urgency to have her body and only her body in the second chorus. ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀

The third and fourth verses tell the story of Howard in the Tudor court. At first Katherine is praising Henry in a way as he made her one of Anna of Cleves’ ladies in waiting. She believes that she’s finally found her place in the world thanks to Henry; however, spoils this feeling with his advances. For the first time, she acknowledges that maybe Henry isn’t different from any of the other men who’d used in her the past. This admission signifies Katherine’s loss of true innocence. She’s resigning herself to what men want. ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀

Additionally, the fact that Katherine has been taught to equate sex to love/marriage is brought to light directly after the lyrics imply Henry slept with her through, “So we got married... woo...” Of course there’s a certain historical context of marrying someone you’ve had sex with out of wedlock, but kings had mistresses frequently, and Henry was willing to sleep with Anne without worrying about marriage. Plus, with the context of the song, it’s safe to say Katherine’s been groomed to believe her only option was to marry Henry after that, and to believe he loved her. ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀

As she narrates her life as queen, the highlights include Henry’s brash temper, which implicates to a certain degree and leaves the audience to wonder whether or not Henry verbally or emotionally abused Katherine. ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀

The next highlight is Thomas Culpeper, a seemingly kind courtier. From the lyrics, “This guy, is finally what I want, the friend I need just mates no chemistry,” one can infer that Katherine saw her relationship with Thomas as strictly platonic. There’s also an implied component of respect in their dynamic, which Katherine had not experienced from men before. Though she’s learned that most men aren’t different (as seen through Henry), Culpeper becomes an exception in her mind. ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀

For this reason, when Culpeper comes onto her, it’s a bigger let down than normal. She truly believed he was different and truly believed he cared about her. At this point in the song, Katherine begins to see her abuse for what it is after one last man. The abrupt shift and slippery slope is heavily exemplified in the change of the chorus lyrics. ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀

No longer is she viewing these men’s insatiable and greedy attitudes toward her body as romantic. She sees them for the first time as possessive and rough. She questions when will it finally be enough, and admits her unhappiness. ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀

Though the most striking contrast to previous choruses is provided through “Bite my lip and pull my hair as you tell me I’m the fairest of the fair.” Not only has run your fingers through my hair become violent, but the imagery of biting a lip is introduced, which in this context comes off as anything but sexy. Along side that, adding the as there creates an uncomfortable contrast to directly juxtapose Katherine’s lack of enjoyment and the man’s enjoyment (plus his perception that she is enjoying it.) ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀

Finally, the phrase playtime’s over takes on a different meaning. Throughout the song it’s already been a figure of speech for loss of innocence but at the end, it’s truly solidified that Katherine’s innocence and soon to be life is gone. Because men have taken advantage of her, Katherine will be beheaded so her time really is up. She has to pay the price for being groomed by men and used, and once she’s realized everything, she’s powerless to control her fate.

[scriptlgbt]

Would there be any negative connotations in making my fourteen-year-old vampire character aroace (I.e. not mature enough for a ~real relationship~ , not human)? Just checking in to make sure I'm not accidentally sending the wrong message. There are other characters on the ace spectrum - interracial QPPs , and protag is a biromantic ace witch - in the same storyline if that helps. Thank you so much!

Okay so I don’t like the idea of a character being aroace because they aren’t “mature enough for a real relationship”? I understand where you’re coming from, I really do, but I think you could send the wrong message here. Aro/ace non human characters are already a topic to be handled with caution, and I fear that your rationale behind your character’s orientation is wrong. There’s a difference between children being too young to feel romantic or sexual attraction, and people identifying as aro/ace, and I think the line here is blurred. Having other characters on the ace spectrum definetely helps! But I still think that you should make some changes. 

I think you need to look deeply at the reasons that led your character to identify as aroace. Did she decide that she shouldn’t be in relationships due to her state as an eternal fourteen year old? Great decision! But that does not mean she is aroace. Does she have trouble deciphering her feelings for people because she’s constantly stuck in puberty? Sounds like hell! But that also does not mean she is aroace. Or (this is what I think you mean) she never matured fully? And thus, she feels no sexual/romantic attraction? 

Personally, I think this is wrong! Emotionally, she continued to develop. I don’t think discovering your orientation is tied to the physical changes your body goes through. Thus, if she is aroace, it is because she did mature and discovered that was her identity. Being aro/ace is not a lack of maturity, and I don’t think you want to (even accidentally or subtly) compare aro/ace people to children. 

If I were you, I would give her an identity unrelated to her condition, and then have her be celibate (abstain from sex) and single because she doesn’t want to be in relationships due to her child body. If this messes with your lore, and she actually is stuck in the same emotional state as a fourteen year old, she doesn’t need a stated identity, in my opinion? I mean, also…lots of people DO start to feel attraction by that age, but…I think it’s enough to just say she is still a child, and she doesn’t want to enter relationships because of her current state, without ever using the words aro/ace. 

TLDR; She can be aroace. But she cannot be aroace because she isn’t mature enough for a relationship.Wanna read up on this more? Check out this post to learn about ace/aro stereotypes (there’s one on nonhumans, wasn’t posted when you asked, so don’t worry), and this post for myths about asexuality! 

~ Mod Ginger

[cravitus426]

i felt inspired by the condescending ‘foolish edboy’ smug look i accidentally made and then wanted to practice some other faces

but then i realized it was already one in the morning and i’m still half dead

so instead of the nine planned you get ave making five different faces and one flatcolored ave that i’ve posted at least two times now

out of these the one that i’m iffiest on is the wat because i couldn’t get the mouth or antennae to really look right

what i should do now is figure out how the hell to draw his head from the side

i’ve never actually figured it out

legitimately i cannot for the life of me figure out how to draw his head at a perpendicular angle, the last time i tried he looked like an green mutant head with a super buff neck and huge eyes

i had teenage mutant ninja turtle flashbacks and everything

Obligatory lore from krevland: Pieces of midnight rambles edition

Irken Sexuality headcanon ramble - 2 am edition

tl;dr - gays would be better off than hets because population control and control brain plans but generally unlikely anyway in society

tl;dr 2 - irkens are probably very detail oriented lovers and basically shakespeare would be a masterpiece of erotic fiction to an irken

Sexuality is a concept that the average Irken doesn’t really give a whole lot of meaning, if any. While friendships and bonds may form in life, the mindless devotion to the Empire and the Tallest coupled with standard indoctrination and detachment taught and enforced in the academy ends up suppressing the majority of concerns in regards to sexuality, making it little more than a trait of the individual. It is not typically a social issue, and more a personal fact - physically you are male, female, neither, or both, and mentally it should not matter what you identify as, as long as it does not conflict with your loyalties and duties. The matter is unlikely to have much relevance in a world where birth happens in a cloning tube, and where life is for the empire to give and take. Sexuality - the idea of attraction (or lack thereof) to a given trait or series of traits is typically ignored or crushed, and is seen often as the primitive need to breed in messy, uncontrolled ways.

This said, this view is more typically applied to 'traditional' male/female relations - homosexuality in comparison gets off more easily. It is more illogical than standard reproductive pairing due to the inherent biological sterility, yielding nothing without the use of a technological surrogate or otherwise genetically modifying one's self. In a negative light, one could argue that it is carnal relation for the sake of pleasure, without the ability to even spawn a bloodline. However, it does not interfere with the standard reproductive cycles maintained by the smeeteries, unlike 'standard' pairs, and can be seen as on par with the standard indulgences exercised by many Irken citizens. In fact, one could argue that it is a sort of racial narcissism - the worship of the Irken body in it's perfection, a strengthening of bonds between comrades, without chance of interfering with the population plans of the control brains.

At worst, it can impede loyalty, and at best it is a general benefit.

As implied, however, heterosexual relations are a bit of a different and more sensitive subject. As a negative, it is interference with the plans of the control brains - uncontrolled breding, tainting of the bloodlines in addition to the personal zeal for pleasure, taking the already present risk of jealousy among peers and adding in the discomforting connotations of pregnancy and childbirth in a society largely free of standard breeding. One could argue it's just the natural order of things, that it's another indulgence in an empire of excess. One could go further, argue that it invokes stronger images of narcissism through a sense of completion through the unity of male and female, resulting in creation - these arguments, however, fail to address the fact that these relations are liabilities when it comes to the Imperial population plans.

Unplanned births are not unknown - such things are dubbed freebirths. It is not clear what happens to those who sire freebirths, but those who do tend to find themselves without memory of their families and within the academy.

If they're lucky, they'll never know they had one - and no one else will. The family is a powerful ideal within an Empire that strives to be the only family and the only identity it's people has. The few official families that remain, such as the Kove bloodline, tend to be exceptions initiated through the rites of identity, and are often sanctioned by the brains as Imperial icons - role models.

Those who come from an official house, such as Kove, live with all the benefits and pressures of being the successors to ancestors hailed as heroes. Those that do not are subject to ridicule and are effectively outcast by the majority of their 'trueborn' peers.

Regardless, in terms of stimuli and sexual attraction, the specifics are shrouded in mystery for Irkens - but that has never stopped speculation, hasn't it?

It's likely that Irkens are starved of stimuli and punished rather than properly taught or instructed on sexuality beyond the information download they get at birth.  They are all fully clothed, left around people identical to them for a hundred years as they mature more than learn in the Academy, where they are directed at spearpoint into VR, where their only stimulation is artificially controlled and administered.

From birth, smeets try to imprint on cold, unfeeling robotic arms before being dumped into a chute to be given the supposed whole of Irken knowledge, and are presumably shoved right into the Academy. They are given no time to process, feel, etcetera - and although there are mentions of toys for smeets, it's pretty doubtful that any of them offered sexual stimuli or imagery.

Sexual dimorphism would be at an extreme minimum - the difference between male and female subjects. Limited, generally speaking, only to eyelashes and antennae, sexual dimorphism is unlikely to really increase for the entire duration that the cadets are in the Academy.

Irkens are forced to use very little to determine the sex or gender, and given the general irrelevance of it in society, most probably don't latch on to much. This said, it's not too far fetched to imagine that antennae and eyelashes - as well as voice - became the focus of any budding smeethod romances. Without the prominence of male or female genitalia - without breasts or testes to draw attention - Irken romances and attraction likely revolve around body language and fine detail, and perhaps due to cultural significance, height.

So in summary, with practically nothing else to tell boy from girl, smeets likely imprinted on the antennae, the eye, and maybe the different base pitches of voices to identify who was what, which likely gave rise to attractiveness based on height (a big thing), body language, and the voice. Irkens do love their drama and range in shouting, after all.

It makes sense that these become the things to look for if you're a romantic green-eyed space alien, and when you're in a birth-to-adulthood brainwashing school of combat that would make 1984 look like anarchy, it also makes sense that this probably doesn't mean too much to most Irkens anyway.

Ironically, due to the detail oriented undertow of Irken attraction, plus their dramaticism, the existence of love songs, poems, and sappier romance dramas might actually be right at home for Irkens. Shakespeare would be an erotic masterpiece, with this in mind.

[fae-fucker]

Zenith: Chapter 18-19

Chapter 18

We’re in Nor’s POV again, so prepare for edge. Though that can be said about literally every chapter in this book.

Nor is having a dream about how she’s being crushed by a small rock that feels like a bunch of very big rocks. And then she falls into an abyss (relatable), and into a big ol’ fire.

It’s very dramatic, and also? Symbolism.

Extremely symbolism. 

She wakes up.

She was so cold. Her body, coated in sweat, was attracting the frigid recycled air that clung to her like a second skin.

How does one “attract” air? I know what they’re trying to say but like, at some point you just gotta stop trying to twist more meaning and drama out of every meaningless detail. 

People say show don’t tell, but here, Shinsay follows up their telling with really dubious showing. Why do you do this? Just to pad the word count? More words doesn’t make you a better writer.

We’re introduced to Zahn, who is Nor’s bodyguard and also lover. They cuddle for a bit and Nor thinks about how nobody but Zahn is allowed to see her this vulnerable. 

“I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think, Zahn.” She lifted her prosthetic hand to her face to wipe away the tears, then dropped it, disgusted by the sight of the gold metal, of the scars marring her upper wrist. Disgusted with herself for feeling so weak.

Ah. We’re doing this now, are we?

It’s okay though, because Zahn takes her fake, disgusting hand and kisses her tears away! 

How sweet.

“You’re safe,” he said with a sigh. “I will always protect you, Nor.”

“I don’t need protecting,” she whispered.

I know this is supposed to be deep and not true, but she’s basically telling him, her bodyguard, that she only pays him to sleep with her. 

To many people, Nor was the stone-cold ruler who haunted the nightmares of her foes. But to Zahn, she was just Nor. The love of his life, as he was hers.

Cool cool. The narrative then continues to talk about how they were there for each other when the war took their families and how he’s the only one who’s seen her at her weakest and bla bla bla.

This chapter is literally just a massive infodump about this new rando. You couldn’t have woven his existence into the narrative in a more elegant way, Shinsay?

“Don’t leave me,” Nor said, looking up into his eyes. Seeing the passion mirrored there.

“I would never dream of it,” he said.

Their lips touched, and his hands slid down her bare back, gentle at first. Then hungry for more as she let him lay her back down.

“I love you,” Zahn said. “My Nhatyla.”

The lingering fear from her nightmare trickled away as a very different sort of feeling took its place.

“A very different sort of feeling,” Shinsay?

Are you two grown women or twelve actual years old, combined? Why is this so coy? You can’t have both all these MATURE and EDGY characters who are all about TEH SECKS and VIOLENS while basically giggling like tweens whenever you make a reference to fucking. 

If you don’t want to deal with the subject, why include it at all? This is YA, isn’t it? Teens can handle discussions and references to sex. You could probably even get away with sex scenes if you write them carefully and don’t make them too explicit.

If you wanted to be completely PG, why is everyone always making grody sex jokes? If you wanted them all to have amazing sex lives, why don’t you have them (and the narration) speak maturely and openly about the subject?

I do not understand the reasoning behind any of this.

Chapter 19

We’re back with Dex, who, if you recall, kissed Andi without her consent in chapter 17.

DEX HAD FORGOTTEN how fast Andi’s reflexes could be when she was mad.

Furious, actually, he thought, as he watched the shock on her face melt into a mask of pure, boiling rage.

The sentence above, my friends, is a perfect illustration of why I have such problems with purple prose and using a bunch of “pretty descriptions” that don’t mean jack shit just to show off how deep your writing is.

Allow me to be extremely nitpicky and go off on a tangent while I analyze this ... word vomit.

Melting happens when something gets warm enough to change state from solid to liquid, but without necessarily boiling. In writing, the word usually has positive connotations. ”Molten” metals are often used as eye colors for love interests, people “melt” when another person does something sweet or romantic for them, et cetera. 

It makes people think of warmth, softness, pliability. 

When Andi’s shock melts into “a mask of rage,” it implies that the rage is solidified, but also that it’s fake, because it’s only a mask. Then we’re told that it’s actually boiling still. The fact that her shock is “on” her face doesn’t help.

Now, I know what you’ll say: Eff, this isn’t literal! It’s all just a metaphor!

But metaphors have to make sense, and conflicting, confusing visuals and concepts do nothing but shine a spotlight on the author’s carelessness. They’ve picked these words because they have inherent meaning and they sound good and intense, but without understanding how to use that meaning to their advantage.

If Shinsay wanted to keep the “hot rage” angle, I’d suggest something like this:

Dex watched as the shock on Andi’s face boiled over into white-hot rage.

Jesus Christ, I’m only two sentences in.

Anywhoo, Andi beats Dex with a chair. I would’ve killed him on the spot but I’ll take what I can get.

Andi spat on the ground, then rubbed her lips with the back of her sleeve. For one moment, she looked purely Andi, angry as a wet feline and terrifyingly beautiful.

...

So uh. For future reference: Comparing to your badass, ruthles space pirate to a wet cat 

is probably the dumbest fucking thing you can do.

I guess Dex is also impressed that Andi looks like Andi. 

And here I thought standards couldn’t go any lower.

Maybe there’s a message of positivity in there? Dex loves you if you look like you, girls! Just be yourself, and also angry as a wet cat.

Then he saw the moment when Andi’s face changed. She transformed into someone else entirely; an actress playing the perfect part.

So you’re gonna describe to me how her shock melts into a mask of rage and how she looks angry like a wet cat, but you won’t tell me how Dex sees her slip into the role of an actress playing the perfect part? Something that would actually be quite interesting to witness?

Figures.

Andi starts acting like Dex cheated on her and Lira and Breck join in as the other women, which for some reason confuses Dex, the ultimate mastermind that he is. He catches on eventually as the other patrons start surrounding them in the hopes of a juicy fight.

Breck kicks him and he flies across the room, which is absolutely delightful and I love it. She kicked him into the table of the Lunamere guards (finally someone does something smart) and a fight with them breaks out. 

Dex wasn’t the tallest man by Mirabel standards, but what he lacked in height, he made up in speed and agility—and above all, the desire to win.

And as we all know, people who lose always actually want to lose, and the guards he’s fighting against just don’t want to win enough!

Makes perfect sense.

He was all grace and glory as he spun and whirled, taking out Lunamere guards as they rushed forward in hopes of sinking their knives into his gut.

Don’t make me do a GLORY count. Blease.

We switch POV to Andi. This entire chapter/fight scene is for some reason broken up into chunks, even though it’s all the same one scene and at one point we don’t even switch POVs, but the scene break is still there?

Who edited this?

[The Lunamere guard] howled and dropped, and then she was off again, leaping over his fallen form, her hands itching to raise hell, draw blood and spread the glory of her name.

The Bloody Baroness was here.

She’d make sure every single one of them knew it.

THE GLORY OF HER NAME

Note how Andi seems to just love this. I guess when the narrative needs her to be ruthless and badass, she’s all about being the Bloody Baroness and loves to SPREAD HER GLORY, but when she’s angsting, it’s all about how much she hates murder and remembers every single person she’s killed.

Cheap, Shinsay. You’re cheap and so is your book.

Another POV skip. We’re back with Dex. It’s still the same scene, same fight.

The plan was in place. Everything was glorious, beautiful, blessed disarray.

GLORIOUS

Another scene break. We’re back with Andi. Holy shit, this is such a terrible, disconnected, patchy mess. 

Dex was cornered with his back against the bar, fresh green blood oozing from a cut on his brow.

Proof that his blood is actually green, in case y’all didn’t believe me. 

Idk what this means or if it will ever be explained, but whatever.

Every part of Andi’s soul told her to get the hell out of there before the Sparks went off. She could abandon the mission. Leave Valen Cortas in prison, with Dex beside him once the warden of Lunamere caught wind of this.

But as she stood back and watched the clock tick down, some tiny part of herself, some animal thing deep down, began to claw its way back up and out into the smoky pub light.

The Bloody Baroness never turned away from a fight.

See? Andi enjoys this, and willingly chooses it when she can do otherwise. So then why does Shinsay insist on making her all angsty and sad about the people she murders?

YOU CAN’T HAVE YOUR CAKE AND FUCK IT TOO, SHINSAY.

With a sigh, she pushed herself forward, swinging her borrowed knives as if they were extensions of her body. Little pieces of heaven clutched in her hellraising fists.

With a sigh? Why is she acting like she doesn’t have a choice and this is a chore, like her mom told her to clean her room? Oh my god.

And yeah, I had to look at “little pieces of heaven clutched in her hellraising fists,” and now so do you.

Anyway, the “Sparks” (if they were explained, I didn’t pay attention) that Andi’s team set up around the bar go off and:

Then the whole world exploded around [Andi and Dex].

God, I wish they could die in the explosion.